MY SON OSIME is now at home, though he remains deeply traumatised. He is surrounded by love, care and support from people who are working with him to improve his mental wellbeing. It is often difficult for us because my son has faced a lot of abuse over a sustained period of time.

Often, he does not sleep, but when he does he screams, and shouts out, repeating the word no again and again.

It makes me wonder what they did to him in custody. Right now, Osime is too traumatised to tell us anything.

I think he just wants to forget about it and blank it out, but those feelings and memories are not letting go of him.

I watch him try so hard to be happy. He turns up the music in his room, so high, like he is trying to drown out noises in his head that haunt him. When you watch him, you can see how hard he fights it, but eventually you see the sadness win through, like a dark cloud.

I desperately want to see a society that is fit for everyone. It is important for people with lived experience to drive research and conversation. A top down approach just does not work.

The right changes will come from the grassroots. We need people in positions of power that put equity, justice and decency first. We lack people like that in society, and it is desperately sad.

If the people in power paid attention, these injustices would not be so easily seen as defensible. It is not enough to have a seat at the table. We have to question whether our voices are really heard. We are not believed and our concerns and our lived experiences are ignored.

The evidence shows that children like my son, Black children or children with mental health difficulties are disproportionately given longer sentences. They are treated more harshly than their white counterparts with similar issues.

I have spoken to so many parents who have similar concerns to mine. It is clear that this terrible treatment is normalised and institutionalised. It must be looked into.

It seems to me, that to be a Black person in this country can be a life sentence of grief. Our Black sons walk on knife edges. Black autistic men like my son are living through nightmares.

This is in one of the richest, most developed and enlightened countries in the western world.

No government platitude will rectify the injustices I have seen and faced.

But I have found some comfort in the positive actions of kind and generous people, people like yourselves, who have supported us and stood by us in our darkest hour.