In 1985, I moved from West London to South London. When I arrived in the Peckham and Camberwell area, there was only one couple practicing Nichiren Daishonin's Buddhism (and they soon left for other regions). I decided to make an effort to get to know my new neighbourhood and its people. So, armed with a lot of daimoku, I walked around every day to meet and talk with local people in shops and pubs, at bus stops, and on the street.

One day, I heard an old lady say that in her estate, people were living in a constant state of war. Black families, white families and a large group of Italian families were fighting one another at every possible opportunity. I asked her to show me where this estate was, because I wanted to know why this was happening. Being Italian myself, I was especially interested in why these Italians were acting in such a violent way.

I soon discovered that many of the people living in this estate were squatters and that there was a high level of robbery and assaults. Black women were being molested and insulted by white English men, white women were being assaulted by black men, and the Italian women were suffering violence and abuse from both white and black men.

I started to chant every day that somehow this violence, based on racial intolerance and fear, would stop. I befriended the young Italians who lived there, and every day, over food, music, and drinks, we discussed the situation. I tried to break through their frustration, fear and anger, and talked to them about respect and the dignity of life.  I also argued against prejudice and intolerance of differences, but all my efforts fell on deaf ears.

With lots of daimoku, and fighting against my own fear of being assaulted (by going there), I continued to spend time with them. My new friends started to get used to my positive approach. It therefore became quite natural to talk about Buddhist philosophy and the practice that I was doing. Some of them were curious, some pulled my leg, but all of them heard Nam-myoho-renge-kyo and its meaning. None, however, would try to chant for fear of being ridiculed by the others.

Then, early one morning, an Italian couple knocked at my door. In tears and panic stricken, they told me that one of our friends was in hospital in a critical condition. A group of white youths had attacked him just outside his flat. They had beaten him violently, crushing his skull and dragging him to the centre of the estate's communal area. He was left almost dead, with a piece of paper attached to his chest on which they had written in his own blood "Bastard Italians go back home." My friends were terrified. I invited them to come inside and sit down while I chanted daimoku for our friend. To my surprise, during the daimoku, they started to chant with me.

Later, I went back to the estate with them. With their help, I managed to gather all the Italian women living there. I invited them to come with me and walk round the estate to meet the other women there, to talk to them about keeping their men under control. The aim was to try to defuse the fear and to create some communication among us women and our children. Some of them joined me in this project.

I also spoke to the guys to try to calm them down. I was especially glad to find the two young Sicilian men who were the closest friends of the young man dying in the hospital, since I knew they were already plotting revenge. At the end of our emotional conversation, I managed to stop them from carrying out their plans. But they were over-excited and didn't want to go home, so I invited them to come with me to a Buddhist meeting in Dulwich.

The meeting was an introductory lecture on a basic Buddhist principle given by the local SGI-UK district leader. As my friends were full of anger and frustration, they challenged the speaker with strong cynicism and criticism. However, I was quite confident that what was happening that evening, in front of the Gohonzon, was already saving lives.

At the end of the meeting, the Sicilians invited me back to their estate for dinner with the other Italians. Although I was very tired, I accepted so that I could be near my friends at this terrible time. As soon as we walked into the estate, I started feeling very uncomfortable. We entered a lift. As soon as we were inside it, a group of black men stopped the doors from closing. They walked in with guns and knives in their hands, blocking the entrance, and demanded our money and clothes. My two friends also took their knives out.

I was standing in the middle of the lift, squashed by seven black men and two very hot-headed Sicilians, all armed to the teeth, ready to kill each other. I could not believe that this was happening. Maybe it was just a crazy game? They were shouting threats at each other. I looked at them — they were so ridiculous, they looked so stupid. My reaction was astonishing, even to myself. I started laughing, and I laughed and laughed so loudly that everybody was silenced. I opened my bag and said since I had no money to give them, they were very welcome to take everything that was in it. I insisted they took the contents, telling them sarcastically that they must be very desperate if they were going around robbing people who had nothing to give.

I started to throw the contents of my bag into the air, object by object, including my dirty tissues and spare pantyliners. I threw everything I had, telling them that I was fed up with their bullying and their stupidity; that they were acting like a bunch of silly kids who looked so ridiculous. I laughed at all these frustrated young men, then I looked at them straight in the eye, and told them all to put their stupid weapons away. To my surprise they did, and walked silently away, together with my two speechless friends.

After this event, the women on the estate always greeted me when I walked around there. All the women in the estate were now talking to each other and the local children started to play together. Soon the situation there quieted down.

Today, the same area has been completely restructured by the council. It now hosts the large and modern sports centre for the borough. Violence and the crime rate have, since then, gradually diminished. Racial violence is mostly nonexistent and, between Peckham and Camberwell, there is now a large district full of wonderful SGI-UK members.

Several young Italian residents from the estate started chanting. Three have since returned to Italy where they are now local SGI leaders. The couple who came to see me that morning, and chanted with me, have returned to Sicily. They moved to an area where there were no SGI members. Within just a few years, they created a strong chapter in the Syracuse area with lots of districts, full of active members, fighting local violence and crime every day through their Buddhist practice.

For some years now, I have been living in Dulwich Common in total safety, surrounded by a beautiful green and residential area.  My gratitude knows no bounds.

[as published in the February 1999 UK Express (an SGI-UK publication)]