The humanitarian crisis threatening the streets of merseyside

AHEAD OF THE 20TH ANNIVERSARY OF ANTHONY WALKER'S MURDER, THE ECHO WAS INVITED TO SPEND AN AFTERNOON WITH THE FOUNDATION'S HATE CRIME TEAM 05:00, 24 May 2025 In a city centre

office with pictures of a handsome, smiling young man adorning the wall, a small team is carrying out vital work. In the space of 30 minutes on a Tuesday afternoon, the team - all wearing

matching pin badges of the same young man playing basketball - take several calls from victims who have experienced unimaginable abuse. For a lot of the people on the other end of the line,

isolated and alone in a community that should be their home, there is nowhere else to turn. But there is always help available. One phone handler finishes a phone call with the eight

comforting words - "we will always be here to support you". The young man whose pictures cover the wall is Anthony Walker and the ECHO has been invited into the office of the

foundation set up in his name to see the work the hate team do ahead of the 20th anniversary of the teenager's racist murder. Since August last year, the four-person team have been

inundated with phone calls. From the moment a violent mob gathered around a mosque in Southport in the wake of the sickening murder of three girls at a dance party, the foundation's

referrals sky-rocketed by 300%. People who had lived on the same street for years were abused over the garden fence by neighbours, mums with their children were harassed in the street and

people were physically assaulted. Police also passed on intelligence to the Anthony Walker Foundation that their office was listed as a possible target as the disorder shifted into

Liverpool's city centre and later across the country. The staff stayed at home for the next two weeks - but their work continued. Article continues below Zoe Hume, 31, who has worked at

the Anthony Walker Foundation for over five years and is the most experienced member of the hate team, said: "We knew we were going to see an escalation when it happened. But I think

we were surprised by the scale of referrals we got. "We couldn't come to our place of work because we could have become victims as well. We didn't know when it was going to

end. Our work felt massive pressure and strain. Everyone felt the impact. People who had never been targeted became victims. People they thought were friendly with them were turning on them

- it was an overnight thing. "They were being told to go back to where they came from. Some were physically attacked. There was criminal damage - windows smashed, graffiti written on

their houses. A lot of people were just scared to go out of their houses. I had never seen it on that scale before." Rahana Bennett, 37 and from Aigburth, previously worked in education

for the foundation, before she moved to the hate crime team to learn more about how the physical and emotional abuse affects people. "What happens in August still affects people to

this day," she told the ECHO. "Some of the people we support still don't leave their houses because of what happened. You can see the effect it has had on their health. They

have anxiety and depression. They're declining. Some of these have no-one else. No friends, no family. They are isolated and alone." While August undoubtedly put the small team

under a huge amount of pressure, the work they do is imperative throughout the year. Between April 2024 and March this year, the team received 1,042 new referrals and supported 1,163

victims. Each victim has their own story - and some stay with the staff more than others. Kofi Barrett-Wilkie, a 24-year-old criminology graduate from Mossley Hill, told the ECHO he joined

the foundation after hearing about other people's experiences of being on the receiving end of racist abuse. "One recent case I dealt with was a guy that lives on his own in a

flat, and for some reason his neighbour has access to his utilities and is turning them off, breaking his window, shouting the n-word at him. "He has also assaulted him and set the dog

on him. He tried to take his own life afterwards. It's this rhetoric of 'go back to your own country' and 'what are you doing here'? We can only do so much, but the

rewarding thing that I keep hold of is the joy in people's voices when you ask them how they are. Their thanks is very powerful. If we can support one person then it is worth all the

stress." Thirty-eight-year-old Veronica Leacock, from Fairfield, agrees. "I'm supporting a man whose children can't play out in the street because they are being racially

abused," the former social worker said. "It happened a good few years ago, but it keeps escalating again. "He feels he is alright but is terrified for his children. We helped

make a referral for counselling for one of his sons. Now that child has support. Sometimes you feel like you aren't doing enough, because we can only do so much, but their thanks

reminds us how grateful they are and that the work we do is so important." The team face a number of challenges, most significantly the threat of social media. A number of years ago,

when the foundation was in its infancy, people, primarily children, could escape abuse when they returned home. But the team have now seen an increase in incidents through social media.

"Children will be abused at school and then that will continue when they go home on social media," Zoe said. The law and criminal justice graduate, from Crosby, continued:

"They can't escape it and the hate crime is continuing. It doesn't end like it used to. All day, every day, you can be targeted. "It's constant and the perpetrators

have an easy way to carry that message across." The misinformation, which has exploded on social media platforms especially since August, and the amplification of populist politics has

also had a knock-on effect on the marginalised groups of people they support everyday. One wall of the foundation's small office is covered with posters displaying pictures and quotes

from a number of historic figures. The faces of Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, Baroness Doreen Lawrence and Rosa Parks are all featured. But it's impossible to sit anywhere in the

office and not realise why everyone is here - it's for Anthony. College student Anthony was 18-years-old when he was ambushed and murdered by racist thugs in Huyton in July 2005.

Anthony, a talented basketballer, was in the second year of his A-levels and held ambitions of training as a lawyer. The year after his death, the foundation was created to tackle racism,

hate crime and discrimination by providing support services and education. "Everyone who works here is here for the same reason," Zoe told the ECHO. "It can be stressful and

impactful. It's not easy, but the reward that you get from helping just one person is incredible. But the reason we are all here is because of Anthony. It's not just a name - it

means something. This is his legacy. Everyone is very aware of how important that is." As well as the hate crime team, the foundation works with the Crown Prosecution Service to provide

a legal scholarship in Anthony's memory. The foundation also has an education team, who go into schools and businesses across Merseyside and the north west educating people on

Anthony's story and their work. Catherina Quinn, a former solicitor who volunteered with the foundation before joining full-time as its education lead, said: "From our point of

view, racism can start at schools. I was that age when I first experienced racism. It's important that young children learn that words and actions can hurt. "The riots in August

were reminiscent of the 1970s. Terror rippled through the country and we don't know when it could erupt again. This had a huge effect on our work. One school we worked with said in the

previous year they had two racial incidents. In the six weeks after August they had seven or eight. "We could always do with more help when it comes to tackling hate crime. But we do

our best - we want to be out there doing what we can. It is so essential we work with the children at this age. The children are the generation of change." Alison Houghton-Corfield, who

previously worked in banking for 30 years before becoming chief commercial officer at the foundation. She is tasked with ensuring the foundation can continue to get into as many businesses

and schools as they can to continue their educational work, while the hate crime team can help whoever is referred to them. But the work can't continue without funding and, without

funding, more people can't be helped. "What this team does is incredible - they are committed to helping people who are victims of hate crime," she said. They don't

understand the enormity of what help and support can mean to people who are frightened and alone. In a lot of cases there is no one else. I believe this is a vocation - it's not for

everyone." As the ECHO leaves the office, the phone rings again. Someone else needs the help of the team. Article continues below