Kerwin was only 15 years old; a youngster from the Antilles living in Amsterdam, The Netherlands. It was August 20, 1983 and Kerwin and his friends were on their way home from a night out.

At the Dam Square, a stranger appears from the dark. The stranger approaches Kerwin and comments: "You are black, and you can't walk here". Without hesitation, the stranger pulls out a knife and thrusts it several times into Kerwin's stomach. Kerwin collapses; blood is gushing all over the street.

Kerwin's friends immediately halt a taxi to rush him off to the hospital. The taxi driver fears that the blood will smudge his back-seat, and refuses to help. It will take another 20 minutes for an ambulance to show up. In the hospital, Kerwin Duinmeijer passes away as a result of his wounds.

The police arrest Nico B., the person responsible for the murder. Nico B. is a racist skinhead with tattoo on his arm that reads 100% white. His defense for the murder is that Kerwin gave him a dirty look: "I don't like it when a dirty nigger looks at me that way"

Kerwin Duinmeijer's death is met by much disbelief and astonishment. The Netherlands has long prided itself on its tolerant, multicultural society, and such a senseless act of racism was simply unimaginable. Kerwin's death became a symbol for the struggle against racism. Each year on August 20, his death is remembered by a silent march, from the Dam Square to Kerwin's memorial statue in the Vondelpark.

Hij liep daar in de stad
's Avonds laat
Plotseling aan de overkant
Zag hij ze staan
Iemand riep: "je hoort niet bij ons"
Mes, steek, pijn

Denk goed na aan welke kant je staat
Denk niet wit, denk niet zwart
Denk niet zwart-wit
Maar in de kleur van je hart

Donker was de straat
Op weg naar het plein
Een taxi, het is te laat
Het is voorbij
Wie wil er bloed op de achterbank
Van de werkelijkheid

Frank Boeijen Groep, Zwart Wit (1984)

He walked through the city
late at night
Suddenly, on the other side
he saw them
Someone yelled: "you don't belong to us"
Knife, stab, pain

Think about what side you're on
Don't think in white, don't think in black
Don't think black-white
but in the color of your heart.

The street was dark
Going to the Square
A cab, it is too late
It is over
Who wants blood on the back-seat
of reality.

Frank Boeijen Groep, Black White (1984)

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