It’s been three years since Daesh murdered you. Once again, through the badger cull, we bash yet another cage on your name.
Three years is a very long time, yet we still remember you every fucking day, and we talk about you often. I don’t think you ever realised how much of an impact you had in so many people. Our shared experiences and adventures fighting coal, sticking the middle finger at cops and ensuring animals got to live another day will forever mark a pivotal point in the way I understand the struggle.
Waka understood that duality between radical action and approachability more than anyone else I’ve ever met. His understanding of optics and his way of acting radically whilst taking care of how it was perceived was something we all should strive for.
And that is probably your biggest legacy, and one that we shall try and learn and try and teach. You taught us so much more than you would’ve ever imagined.
So to everyone that might’ve met Waka, and to everybody else that didn’t, remember that you can lorry surf with a newt onesie, so that the kids like it. Apparently if the kids like it, everybody will.
We shall shoplift on your name, we shall bash the fast on your name, and we shall keep fighting for animal liberation and against the destruction of Mother Earth on your memory. You are never forgotten.
PS: To the mountains and via punk mail, I am sure you will end up reading this. Howling at the moon tonight in the hope that one day we can plant a Waka tree together. Be well.