WHATÕS
VERDICT?
WORDS: SASKIA MURPHY. PHOTOS: ALAMY
I
GUILTY
n April 2019, Mohamed Noor was found guilty of the third-degree murder and second-degree manslaughter of Justine Ruszczyk. At his sentencing, Justine’s heartbroken fiance Don read out a letter in which he described weeping in a dress shop when he saw Justine’s wedding dress for the first time after she died. ‘I had an experience of what that magical wedding night in Hawaii would have been like,’ he said. ‘I fantasised about seeing you walk on the beach in that dress toward me to exchange our
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vows. I fantasised kissing you as they designated us man and wife. But these are not memories but sad wishes of what will never be.’ Noor was sentenced to 12½ years for the fatal shooting. In July 2019, his lawyers launched an appeal against his conviction.
So sad
r h
STAYING POSITIVE
Noor: Convicted of the fatal shooting
Proudly supporting a charity
I refused to be ashamed of something I can’t control
P
Channan Warmington Lewis Moore, 20, London
laying with my toys, I was startled by my older brother. ‘It’s not fair!’ Tom, then 7, cried. ‘What’s not fair?’ I asked him, confused. ‘You’re ABC positive!’ he shouted before storming off. It was 2006, I was just 6 and had no idea what Tom was talking about. But that night, as my adoptive mum Janette, then 46, tucked me up in bed, I asked her what Tom meant. ‘Tom didn’t mean ABC positive, he meant HIV positive,’ she said softly. Mum explained it was something I’d had since I was born. And suddenly, everything made sense. The medicine I’d taken daily, the nurse visits, the hospital appointments. ‘How did I get it?’ I asked. ‘From your biological mummy,’ she said. Mum had always been open with me about my past. I knew my biological
parents were drug addicts. Badly neglected, I’d been taken away by social services when I was just 6 months old. In need of love and a home, I was blessed when social services found Janette. ‘That’s when you came to live with me,’ Mum smiled. Still in primary school, I was blissfully unaware of the stigma attached to HIV. ‘I’m HIV positive,’ I announced proudly to my school friends. But it wasn’t long before I learnt just how much of a taboo my condition was. One boy in my class bullied me relentlessly and my teacher told the other pupils to ‘be careful’ around me. Embarrassed and scared, I started running away. ‘Don’t listen to any of them,’ Mum told me. When I was 10, my consultant referred me to an HIV support group. Meeting other young people like me, I realised I wasn’t alone. In September 2011,
‘You’re HIV positive,’ he gasped, horrified
