The killing of Joshua Samaroo and the grievous maiming of Kaia Sealey compel the nation to confront not competing narratives, but the lawful limits of state power.
This matter is fundamentally about constitutional order, administrative justice, and human rights, not public relations.
What is troubling is the emerging attempt to justify lethal force after the fact, rather than subject it to independent legal scrutiny.
Under section 4(a) of the Constitution of Trinidad and Tobago, every citizen enjoys the right to life, liberty, and security of the person, while section 5(2)(b) protects against deprivation of life except by due process of law.
These guarantees mean that lethal force by the State is lawful only where it is strictly necessary, proportionate, and immediately required to protect life. Anything less violates the Constitution, Mr Commissioner.
These principles are reinforced by international human rights law to which Trinidad and Tobago is expected to adhere. Article 2 of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), often cited by Commonwealth courts, permits the use of lethal force only where it is “necessary” to defend life.
The European Court of Human Rights has consistently held that even where police operations are lawful in principle, the use of lethal force becomes unlawful once the threat has ceased.
Similarly, the United Nations Basic Principles on the Use of Force and Firearms by Law Enforcement Officials require that lethal force be used only as a last resort and strictly when unavoidable to protect life.
Principle 9 is unequivocal: intentional lethal force may be used only when “strictly unavoidable to protect life.” The same principles mandate accountability, reporting, and independent investigation in every case involving death or serious injury.
Against this legal framework, the explanations now being offered for the killing of Samaroo are deeply troubling and inadequate. We have heard many versions: the incident may have arisen from a failed sting operation; shots may have been fired earlier; officers may have been overtaken by adrenaline; and counselling, rather than suspension, is the appropriate institutional response.
None of these explanations, Mr Guevarro, addresses the decisive legal question: was lethal force lawful at the moment it was used?
There is no offence known to our law, whether participation in an illicit transaction, flight from police, or even prior gunfire, that converts arrest and trial into summary execution. To suggest otherwise would undermine section 4(b) of the Constitution, which guarantees equality before the law and the protection of the law.
Nor does the law recognise “police retaliation” as a lawful justification for killing. If emotional arousal were sufficient to excuse lethal force, then criminal responsibility, civilian or state, would collapse entirely.
Police officers are not above the law
Equally troubling is the Commissioner of Police’s refusal to suspend the officers involved. Suspension in cases involving death is not punitive; it is a precautionary administrative measure grounded in natural justice and industrial relations law.
It protects the integrity of investigations and the rights of all parties. This approach is consistent with both domestic administrative law and the UN Basic Principles, which require impartial investigation of all deaths caused by law enforcement.
The constitutional position of the Commissioner of Police makes this obligation even clearer.
Since the 2006 constitutional amendment, the Commissioner exercises the powers of the Police Service Commission, including appointment, promotion, and discipline of approximately 8,000 public officers.
In doing so, he performs a quasi-judicial function, requiring restraint, neutrality, and evidential caution, especially where life has been lost.
Police are public officers, accountable to the Constitution and to the citizenry. No commissioner may lawfully pronounce on the justification of their actions based solely on internal accounts or in the absence of independent verification.
Our history, including the Diego Martin manhunt, warns against the danger of premature official conclusions. Commissioner, know your history.
The broader danger is unmistakable. When killings are explained away rather than independently examined, the police risk becoming interpreters, judges, and executioners of the law. That outcome is incompatible with constitutional democracy and international human rights standards.
We must therefore be clear, Commissioner: the State has no unreviewable licence to kill. Every exercise of lethal force must be justified by law, tested against evidence, and examined through due process.
The law does not bend to uniforms, rank, or convenience. No one is above the law, certainly not the Commissioner, or even those entrusted to enforce it.
