To date no one knows for sure why it happened. In nearby Port Mourant, the People’s Progressive Party (PPP) had just concluded its congress and President Bharrat Jagdeo had passed through the area only minutes before the shooting started around midnight. A large number of heavily armed men in black arrived by sea and left the same way six hours later.

Left in their wake, Police Constables Outar Kisoon and Ramphal Pardat, as well as 17-year-old Balram Khandai, were shot dead, while Mohan Latchman, a 72-year-old man, collapsed and died from suspected heart failure. Another teen, Royden Wong, 17, was shot in the leg while in his grandmother’s house.

Reports the next day stated that Pardat was taken from the dilapidated police outpost and paraded through the streets as his attackers robbed and raked business places and homes with gunfire. He was then taken to the foreshore and executed.

Kisoon was apparently returning to the Whim station when the vehicle he was in was fired upon. Khandai, a delegate at the Congress, was shot and killed while travelling through the town in a vehicle.

The attack left three women widowed, 15 children fatherless and an entire community still shaken. On Thursday, Stabroek News returned to Rose Hall and caught up with a number of persons who fell victim that night. That very day also marked the opening of the new police outpost, but not many of them feel much safer one year on.

Feng sells his Chinese restaurant

Dai Hong Feng, then owner of the Chinese restaurant adjacent to the old outpost, was forced to sell his business to his brother. One year ago, the man said, he sometimes made in excess of $30,000 each day. Now, he is lucky if he musters $4,000 in sales.

“Lil lil business like this they come and rob. Everybody stop coming... Nobody nah come after seven o’clock. Business fall off, so me close down,” Feng told Stabroek News. The same was the report from the proprietors of Imran and Sons General Store. Nobody opens late anymore.

That fatal night, Feng recalled in his strong Chinese accent, about 25 patrons were drinking at his establishment when one of the policemen from the outpost called out to him.

“Nuff people drinking here and a police and one black man come call meh to the outpost...when me go, me see five people hold down a police. One with a big gun tell me shut me mouth. Put me in a corner and tell me, ‘Don’t move!’” The robbers stripped Feng of two gold chains and two rings, as well as $80,000. They beat and locked him in the outpost with a policeman before going next door to cart off more than $160,000 proceeds from the day’s sale. The customers were placed to lie face down on the floor and robbed of valuables.

“[They locked up] me and police Chetram, then they carry way Pardat. They pull out all drawer...bruk down them drawer looking for gun...Me see police car past fast and nah stop here. When me come out, me hear Rose Hall get gunshot. Then me lock up everybody inside, about 10 people,” said Feng.

Even as he spoke, the Police Force Band had piped up some lively tunes a few corners away, prior to the formal opening of the new outpost. Feng was not impressed.

“Every night them people get rob...[The police] lock them [perpetrators] up for two day and then loose them back. They make fight, bruk me thing. When me mek report, they [the police] ain’t lock them up...they can’t take care of anybody.”

Two families pull their lives back together

A couple of corners away, more residents had gathered as the band played on under the canopy of Imran and Sons Store, opposite the National Bank of Industry and Commerce branch. Owner, Imran Hamid said he was busy and called on his 13-year-old daughter to speak with the newspaper.

Although the gunmen had not gained entry to their business premises that night, the teen and her family are still traumatised. “I still don’t want to recall it,” she said.

But with a little prompting from her father, the child launched into a narrative, recounting her encounter with one of the bandits some hours before the assault.

“Normally on Sundays we find something to do after we finish our chores, so we decided that day to go by the seashore. And when we were going, there was a car by the koker. It was blocking the entrance, so he [the man standing by the car] asked us if we wanted to go down. We said no, because we did not know what was going on. It was a strange car and a strange guy.”

According to the child, after the attack, she realised that the same car she had seen that Sunday afternoon was used in the blitz. Sometime close to midnight, the Hamid household was startled out of sleep by the sounds of heavy shooting. At the time, there were two adults in the home, along with three children - ages 12, nine and six.

“These men [were] shooting coming down the road. My brother (aged nine) started to holler, ‘Thief! Thief! Thief!’ and mommy had to come out fast and calm him down...when she looked, one [of the bandits] was at the junction firing, firing...there was a whole lot of them. They were all over. Imagine they got this place so well surrounded, not even a dog barked. Everything was as calm as ever, except for the shooting. I start shaking. I did not know what to do. Nothing can come out my mouth. I couldn’t move.”

Based on reports, it was possible that the bandits had started to cut into another business premises opposite the Hamids’ place. Feeling trapped, the Hamids slipped into a hiding place to the rear of their home and waited. Above them, were the heavy sounds of footsteps and cursing on the zinc roof. At the same time, another set of gunmen was on the family’s veranda, presumably looking for a way in the house.

“We had nowhere to go...about half an hour later, we hear somebody walking over us, then we hear cursing, cursing...I was so terrified, I did not hear a thing other than the shooting...We were so terrified we couldn’t scream,” the teenager said.

The attack has obviously left an indelible impression on the child. She has already written her story of what transpired that night. But her father’s concerns were that since the incident, none of his three children has been counselled.

“If they hear the slightest noise, they jumping.” For him, the attack has adversely affected his business. Like Feng, he said, “people still scared to come out”. So they close up early.

Across the road at Happy Shopping Centre, proprietor Mohamed Shamshudeen Afiz refused to speak about the incident. His place bore the brunt of the attack last year. His brother, another businessman, along with the brother’s wife, had to be hospitalised. His daughter and eight-year-old grandson, who were visiting from abroad, vowed never to return to Guyana. The bandits had used chainsaws to cut their way into Afiz’s home, which is situated above his business place. After more than an hour of terror, the gunmen carted off a large amount of cash and jewellery.

“It affect us, not the business. It affect the family in a great way...I don’t want to think about it, that incident, but I feel a little more secure now that all the big boys have died,” he offered while sitting in a caged area of his store.

As the Hamids and Afizes try to recover from the attack, four other families were still trying to cope with their own losses.