I rarely speak about my cousin, Ricky Reel. His passing takes me back to one of the darkest periods of my life—though for my aunt and her family, that darkness has been even deeper and far more enduring.
So much has happened since we lost Ricky. My aunt, Mrs Reel, has led a relentless fight for justice—one that many others, before and after her, have been forced to abandon. The weight of that fight has taken a profound toll on her and the entire family.
For many of us, it’s been difficult to truly grasp what her everyday life has been like. She stood firm, unwavering, determined to challenge what she believed were serious injustices—facing issues of poor judgment, stereotyping, and surveillance. Since 1997, her pursuit of justice for Ricky has been all-consuming. She refused to let her son become just another statistic, fighting with everything she had to keep his story alive.
Even while carrying that burden, she has continued to support others—guiding people through their own struggles and standing beside those in need of strength and direction.
In 2025, during a police undercover inquiry, both my aunt and my cousin Tish spoke openly about their experiences with the Met, shedding more light on their long fight.
Last week, they came to visit my mother—her first time back at the house since my dad passed. There was a different energy in the room. I saw my aunt relaxed, laughing with my mum. It felt like, in some small but meaningful way, a weight had lifted.
My mum, the eldest of her siblings, has been through so much. Seeing her smile—truly smile—meant everything. Before he passed, my dad said he wanted her to live her life and find happiness again. In that moment, it felt like she was beginning to.
I brought my camera and captured a few images from that visit. It was the first time since my dad’s passing that I saw my mum genuinely happy. I’m grateful I was able to hold onto that moment—both my mum and my aunt, smiling together.
Love you all. I really appreciate all the help love and support you gave me over the years. Really proud of you all.
A POEM FOR RICKY
We came together carrying sorrow,
Each heart with its own quiet pain—
Yours for the love of your dear husband,
Mine for my child I ache for again.
The room held all that was unspoken,
Grief sitting gently in A very chair,
A shared understanding between us
Of love that still lingers there.
Then softly, something shifted—
Not planned,
not forced,
just true—
A smile appeared between the moments,
And then a laugh from me and you.
It felt so strange,
yet so familiar,
Like sunlight breaking through the grey,
A sound we hadn’t shared in so long,
Finding its long-forgotten way.
And then the children caught the feeling,
Their laughter rising, bright and free—
Until the room was filled with something
So close to what used to be.
It wasn’t wrong to laugh together,
It didn’t mean we loved less so—
It simply meant our hearts remembered
That love still lives, and it can show.
Our souls felt lighter in that moment,
Lifted by joy we thought had gone,
A quiet bliss wrapped all around us,
A gentle strength to carry on.
And in that shared and healing laughter,
Sukhdev Reel
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