By erasing the Asian community of Dewsbury, the BBC have not only done a disservice to that community but to the wider Asian community in the UK. It's time for the BBC, and other key influencers to take responsibility for the ramifications of their actions, and the real and immediate action they can take to ensure these issues become a thing of the past.
Viewers will end up concluding that people like Abdul Haq do not speak for Muslims as a whole and that moderate Muslims can, and do, challenge such voices. They will also see that British Muslims can just be as intelligent, compassionate, mean, rude, polite, and dysfunctional as any other community in Britain. In that sense, the programme is humanising.
Extremists attack schools and universities, and kidnap and murder pupils, teachers and academics because they fear genuine education. If we do not actively confront their abhorrent views they will take advantage of our silence. Young people will make up their own minds. We need to make sure they get the facts.
We urgently need documentary films about events that took place in the 1940s, 50s and 60s globally and locally, now because of the threat to living memory. Soon we will only be able to document new information from the sons and daughters of the era. And if I can't even recall my actions or find my notebook from three years ago, what hope do we have on a national or international scale of remembering the past?
Through examining 10 cases in Murderers and their Mothers, I have begun to unpick the complex fabric of the killer by pulling at the "mother" thread. Why such an emphasis on mothers? What about the fathers? Isn't this sexist? These are questions that I have encountered a lot over the past few months.
In 2014 my husband was kidnapped by ISIS. I do not know if he is alive or dead, and every day I pray for some news of his well-being. Eighteen months ago we made the difficult decision to leave. But the problem throughout the world is that nobody wants Syrian people. To the rest of the world Syrian people and their children are very cheap; their blood is very cheap. We don't come to Europe to eat, we don't come here to have a flat. I stayed for years in Syria without much food, we stayed for five years without a lot of things. I don't want to eat, and I can stay in the streets if I need to. But I don't want to see my children dead in front of my eyes.
Katherine Round's film explores a key issue of the modern age, the ever growing gap between the "have's" and "have not's", our obsession with wealth and the growing feeling that capitalism isn't working. It is shot beautifully, and this cinematography embraces and cuddles you as you follow the lives of people on both sides of the wealth divide.
Standing outside the room my palms were clammy, I had pins and needles in my face and could feel nausea rising from my stomach. I stalled - I couldn't go through the door. All those months in prison flashed through my mind, as well as the moment I threw the punch that changed our lives. Walking in and meeting Joan and David, the parents of 28-year-old James Hodgkinson who I killed with a single punch, was something I needed to do. I knew how important it was for me to tell them how sorry I was face to face.
After watching 'Life after Suicide', part of a BBC 1 series about mental health, I have to say this incredible documentary has changed something inside me irrevocably. Although suicidal ideation is habitual and I try to shield those around me from such dark thoughts, seeing this documentary was very healing and profoundly moving.