Powder Magazine residents brace for violence again

FLASHBACK: Police are seen driving through Phase 1 Powder Magazine, Cocorite, on May 6, two days after four people were killed and eight injured in a mass shooting. Residents say the patrols are now non-existent. - Faith Ayoung

RESIDENTS of Phase One, Powder Magazine, Cocorite, say they are once again living in fear, bracing for another shooting as criminal and illegal activity resurfaces around Building F and police patrols that once brought a sense of safety have significantly declined.

The community remains deeply traumatised by the May 4, 2024, mass shooting that left four people dead and eight others wounded, an incident residents say still haunts daily life.

More than a year later, they claim conditions are deteriorating, with loud, explicit music, alleged illegal occupancy and suspected criminal activity becoming increasingly visible, while police presence has faded.

That deadly shooting occurred around 11 pm when a dark-coloured car drove onto the compound, turned around and stopped near the entrance of Building F, where several people were liming.

Two men dressed in dark clothing exited the vehicle and opened fire indiscriminately before escaping. The victims were identified as Shaquille Ottley, 22: Antonio Jack, 57: Sadiki Ottley, 31, and Jonathan Osmond, 36, all residents of Phase One. Eight others were wounded in the hail of bullets.

When Newsday visited the community on December 21 around 9 am, loud music blared through the compound and nearby buildings, reverberating off concrete corridors.

A group of about 13 men gathered outside Building F. While some residents watched quietly from windows and balconies, many declined to speak on record, citing fear for their safety.

An elderly resident, who asked not to be identified, said she lives in constant anxiety and no longer feels safe even in her own home. She agreed to speak only from a location several buildings away from her apartment.

“The music is unbearable, and it plays from morning straight through the day. Most of it is explicit,” she said. “I call the police so many times, I just give up now.”

She said nights are the most frightening, and she avoids leaving her apartment altogether.

“In the evening the place does be cool, and I want to take a little walk around the buildings, but I’m afraid. I feel it’s only a matter of time before they shoot it up again,” she said.

Another resident, a mother of young children, said fear now dictates her family’s movements. She said she does not allow her children to visit neighbouring shops after 6 pm, and she herself feels unsafe even during the daytime.

She also alleges a ground-floor apartment in Building F is being illegally occupied and used as a base for criminal activity, a situation she believes has worsened in recent months.

“After last year’s shooting, the police were always around. You felt like someone was watching over the place,” she said. “There was peace and some sense of security. Now, you hardly see police patrols at all.”

She appealed directly to Minister of Homeland Security Roger Alexander to intervene, urging him to increase patrols and engage directly with residents.

“The young people in here not lost. They just need better role models and real attention,” she said. “The minister should come and walk and talk to the people, especially the young men. Bring the commissioner with him.”

Newsday also spoke with a group of young men at another building in Phase One. Initially hesitant, thinking the media were police, they declined to comment directly on alleged operations at Building F. However, they admitted gun violence is a constant concern.

“Anybody could just run in and shoot up the place,” one said quietly.

Despite their fear, they said they were unwilling to co-operate with police, claiming they feel ignored and distrustful of law enforcement and government authorities.

“Nobody doh care.”

Attempts to speak with additional residents were largely unsuccessful, as many chose not to engage. Loud, explicit music continued to fill corridors and courtyards. One resident, shaking his head, muttered, “Not even a little parang,” in reference to the persistent noise.

Following residents’ claims, Newsday contacted Housing Minister David Lee, who said he was unaware of the situation but would order an “immediate investigation” into the occupancy status of Building F.

He said he would also liaise with the Housing Development Corporation’s chairman and senior officials to determine whether apartments were being illegally occupied and whether enforcement action was required.

Newsday attempted to contact Snr Supt Sylvester Williams, who is responsible for the district, by phone and WhatsApp. Questions were posed regarding residents’ claims that police patrols have significantly decreased or ceased entirely.

Newsday also asked if police have received recent reports of illegal occupancy or drug activity at Building F and whether any long-term policing initiatives established after last year’s shooting remain active. Up to press time, there was no response.

Similar questions were sent to Alexander, including whether he has reviewed the security status of Powder Magazine and other residential “hot spots” since assuming office. He was asked how his ministry ensures sustained police presence after major crimes and what message he has for residents who say they feel abandoned by law enforcement.

Alexander initially sent five responses to Newsday’s inquiries but deleted the messages before they could be viewed. No further correspondence was received up to press time.

Police Commissioner Allister Guevarro was also contacted via WhatsApp and asked to provide data on the frequency of patrols in the Cocorite area compared with the immediate post-shooting period.

He was asked whether Building F has been flagged for intelligence-led operations and how the TTPS balances static policing in high-risk communities with broader deployment demands. As of press time, no responses were received.

As tensions rise and memories of the 2024 bloodbath remain fresh, residents of Phase One say they are desperate for visible action, not assurances.