Reporter Seyi Rhodes took us to the island home of his ancestors to examine Trinidad's shocking transformation from carnival island to Caribbean murder capital in Trinidad: Guns, Drugs and Secrets.
I love Trinidad. My grandma lives in Trinidad. It's a beautiful country populated by laid-back fun-loving people. The food is great, the drinks are wonderful and even the tentacles of American culture (the most profitable branch of KFC in the world) haven't diluted the culture of the island and its people too much. It's a paradise island in more ways than one. If you want to chill on the beach with beautiful people you can do that here. If you want to dig for oil there's lots of that too. Even bankers are welcome in Trinidad's thriving financial services sector. If you're a drug smuggler then the island is filled with coves and inlets in which you can hide your activities from prying eyes.
But (and there was always going to be a but) everyone wants a piece of paradise, and those willing to take it without asking often end up with the lion's share. That's what seems to be happening in Trinidad, with international narco-traffickers moving in and using the island as a part of their global smuggling operation. Where the smugglers go, so does corruption and before you know it you're living in Mexico or Guatemala - countries where official corruption has permeated deeply.
It's already hard to understand the government's position on many issues. They cancelled a £150 million contract for 3 new coast guard boats this year, claiming they were too expensive, but many in the know told me they were essential in the fight against drug and gunrunners.
The state of emergency itself is another good example of this seemingly disjointed approach. On the 15th August the government introduced new Anti-Gang legislation. As one local lawyer explained, "The act was copied and pasted from a similar law in America, or somewhere - but we don't know how to make it work." Seven days after the act was made law, the Government introduced a State of Emergency - citing gang violence as the main reason. The police dutifully rounded up all the gang members they knew of and stuck them in prison. The problem was in the wording of the anti-gang act. It turned out the only evidence of gang membership that could be accepted in court had to come from before 15th August. Unfortunately the police didn't know that. As a result most of the alleged gang members were released.
The state of emergency wasn't designed to deal with official corruption and hasn't managed to net any major drug traffickers. It's aimed at the street-level crime that affects people on a day-to-day basis, but offers no sustainable solution to the country's problems. In many ways it could be making things worse. Most of the released gang members plan to sue the government for unfairly imprisoning them, which could prove costly.
Meanwhile in the poorest areas it's clear that gangster culture has taken over. With no clear route into any of the legitimate industries that are thriving here, young men go for the seemingly glamorous option of selling drugs for a living. And its not just drugs - kidnapping and extortion have been increasingly common too.
Beyond all this, many Trinidadian people feel the state of emergency's nightly curfew is destroying their favourite occupation "liming". Liming is a national past time and basically involves hanging out with friends. Everyone does it most evenings. Trinis love to lime.
The people I met seemed to openly acknowledge that the State of Emergency won't solve Trinidad's long-term problems. They feel corruption and white-collar crime are getting out of hand. They told me all sorts of stories about businesses, specific politicians and well-known police officers. Criminologists and journalists repeated many of these allegations. But for the moment nobody could prove them, and nobody would go on record. Even the government representative shrugged off my question about corrupt politicians. "Yes, there will always be corrupt politicians", he said as if that meant nothing. That doesn't bode well for Trinidad's future.
