Henry Nowak: The Footage We Were Never Meant to See

As many of you will know, I have been covering the Henry Nowak case rather extensively of late. Murders, alas, come and go these days. The true tragedy of Nowak’s death, however, is not just the callous indifference of those involved but what the response says about Britain, its governing class, and how far we have fallen as a nation. 

Along with countless others, I have been demanding the release of the police bodycam footage from the night Henry Nowak was murdered. I do not say this lightly. There is almost nothing I would rather not see. And yet, the criticism I (and no doubt others) have received for demanding the footage is revealing. ‘Ghouls’ and ‘racists’ we may be, ‘without respect for the family’ (the family gave their permission, incidentally), although this pearl-clutching was notably absent when there was wall-to-wall live-streaming of George Floyd’s death. I guess you’re only truly ghoulish when the murder footage cannot be monetised?   

That Hampshire Police have finally bowed to public pressure to release the footage (or were instructed to do so) is something of a victory. It’s worth noting, however, that the footage is incomplete. Currently circulating in the media are the first three minutes following Hampshire Police’s arrival at the scene. It stops at the point where officers realise Nowak’s pupils are not responding to a flashlight. This selective exposure itself raises uncomfortable questions: what exactly was omitted (presumably the administration of CPR), and why? 

Along with Hampshire Police, we have also finally had a statement from our pompous pedagogue of a prime minister, who customarily suffers less stage fright in his sermonising. Faced with an intervention from Speaker Lindsay Hoyle, Starmer trotted out the most generic tweet he could muster, alluding to nothing more specific than the “horror of knife crime.” That his hand was forced is shameful; that this was the best he could come up with is sickening: 

This an awful, shocking case.

Henry’s loved ones have gone through the trauma of a long trial and endured Henry's killer making up appalling claims about their son who was thoughtful, kind and deeply loved.

It is right that the IOPC is investigating the police’s response to… https://t.co/h7JAXXPMEQ

— Keir Starmer (@Keir_Starmer) June 1, 2026

The footage itself is almost unbearable to watch. It captures Nowak’s final moments in horrifying clarity. He lies motionless on the ground, pleading repeatedly: “I’ve been stabbed … I can’t breathe.” He uttered variations of “I can’t breathe” around nine times. Yet an officer responds with dreadful disdain: “You’ve been stabbed? Whereabouts? … I don’t think you have, mate.” 

I believe we have a moral duty to witness the reality of these matters—particularly those of us like me who pontificate about them. We owe it to the victims. We owe it to Henry and to his devastated family. We owe a duty to the truth. And above all, we owe it to our children to confront this without flinching. Shielding ourselves from facts has brought us to this point. For too long, comfortable narratives about ‘diversity,’ ‘community cohesion,’ and ‘no evidence of two-tier policing’ have been prioritised over raw evidence. This footage strips away the illusions. It forces us to ask what kind of country we have become.

The footage: a damning record

The footage paints a damning picture of Hampshire Police and completely exposes the statement previously put out by Deputy Chief Constable Robert France. France claimed police were up against a “complex situation” that Nowak’s wound (singular) was “difficult to find,” and that they were repeatedly lied to. In fact, Digwa’s father’s first words were both truthful and explicit: “He keeps dropping side to side; I’m just trying to keep him sat up. He’s got a mouth full of blood.” This, coupled with the statement from a visibly unharmed Digwa that Nowak had been “on the bin … jumped over these fences and stuff like that … fallen from there; he’s slipped from there,” ought to have been more than enough evidence as to who was in need of police/medical assistance. 

Unimpressed by the clearly incapacitated youth, police attention quickly turns to Digwa and his family: “Has anyone been hurt other than him?” Digwa claims his eye is swollen. In other words, the police knew Nowak was injured from the outset but chose not to investigate properly. 

While pleading that he needed an ambulance, Nowak is roughly dragged out from the side of the house along the gravel. During this time, he repeatedly states, “I can’t breathe.” Completely uninterested, the officer instructs his colleague to “grab his other arm.” Nowak calls out weakly, “I’ve been stabbed,” to which the officer replies with obvious disbelief, “You’ve been stabbed? Whereabouts? I don’t think you have, mate.” 

Nowak is roughly cuffed and left lying face down in the gravel, which obviously causes him pain as he cries out. Again he states, “I can’t breathe.” The officer, without a trace of compassion, says, “Put your hand in the cuff, mate.” Again, Nowak reiterates, “I can’t breathe.” 

“He’s saying he’s been stabbed,” remarks the second officer. “Where is it you think you’ve been stabbed?” she asks, with obvious scorn, “in the face?!” Clearly, the officer believes Nowak was either drunk, mistaken, stupid, or worst of all, simply white.

Then comes what, for me, is the worst and most damning line in the entire three minutes: Digwa’s family says something inaudible (presumably about Nowak not being stabbed), to which the second officer replies, “I know, but we have to check, don’t we?!” Let’s just pause here and reflect on the meaning of this. Called to an emergency situation, with one man’s word against another: one man being visibly unharmed, while the other lies incapacitated in a pool of his own blood, the police officer wants to make it crystal clear she knows who the villain is—and that villain is the white guy.  

The first officer instructs his colleague to “Get their details, and I’ll keep hold of him.” Yes, by all means, let’s make sure the dying man doesn’t escape his own murder scene. Nowak repeatedly pleads, “I can’t breathe!” The police place him on his side (as he didn’t seem to like being face down for some reason) and continue to ask his name and read him his rights as he passes in and out of consciousness. 

“His pupils aren’t even reacting,” another colleague finally realises. Three minutes in. 

This footage is about as damning as it was possible to be. It demonstrates criminal negligence on the part of the police, who are callous to the point of boredom. It reflects genuine criminality on behalf of all members of the Digwa family, who must have known the true state of affairs (Digwa’s mother has been convicted of disposing of the murder weapon) and presumably were hoping that in the event of Nowak’s death, the court case would have been a whitewash. The most dangerous thing you can now be in modern Britain, it seems, is a native Brit going about your business. 

The death of Henry Nowak is everything they wanted George Floyd, Chris Kaba and Mark Duggan to be. Millions across the West will be rightly furious about Henry’s murder. And many other millions will be furious—not because of the murder, but because the starring role was wasted on a white actor. 

What needs to happen now

Several things now need to happen with the urgency Starmer usually reserves for white Brits posting on social media: 

1. A full and transparent public inquiry into Henry Nowak’s murder. Not the usual whitewash by the Independent Office for Police Conduct, but something with teeth; chaired by someone outside the institutional bubble. Every second of footage, every radio transmission, every statement from the Digwa family must be examined.
2. The officers involved deserve severe punishment, and I do not mean dismissal (as I understand some members have already quit the force). A meaningless apology from senior officers is nowhere near good enough. Accountability must be real, with the top brass losing their jobs and the officers involved facing criminal prosecutions. 
3. We need a root-and-branch overhaul of policing in this country. The cancerous DEI ideology must be scrapped entirely. Many senior members of forces should lose their jobs, and confidence must be restored that the British police genuinely serve the public without fear or favour. 
4. The scourge of knife crime must be tackled head on: that means a ruthless application of stop-and-search, particularly in those neighbourhoods where we know knives are being carried. There must be no exceptions—religious or racial. 
5. All members of the Digwa family shown to be complicit in the lies and attempted cover-up must be prosecuted. Justice demands it. 
6. And finally, as I have argued many times before, it is long overdue that we reconsider the death penalty in Britain for the most heinous crimes. A life sentence of 21 years is a mockery of justice when a genuine life sentence has been so willingly handed to Henry Nowak and, by extension, to his family and friends. 

Henry’s legacy

Henry Nowak was, by all accounts, a kind and thoughtful young man, a student with his whole life ahead of him. He did not deserve to die gasping for breath on a Southampton street, disbelieved by those sworn to protect him. His legacy must not be merely another footnote in the cut-and-paste X posts of our least compassionate politicians. 

We cannot of course eradicate murder—human nature is what it is. But we can at least attempt to eradicate the institutional failures and cultural cowardice that aided and abetted Nowak’s death and emboldened the likes of Vickrum Digwa to believe the magic ‘R’ word would shield him from punishment. 

Henry’s parents have spoken of inhumane treatment and a lack of dignity in their son’s final moments. The very least we can do to honour his memory is ensure this tragedy is the catalyst for real, lasting change. For Henry. For our children. For Britain itself.

The footage is out. We have seen it. There can be no more excuses.