On the 28th July 2019, I received a phone call. It was a Sunday morning and I remember contemplating whether to ignore the ringtone, it was too early for conversation. I turned over and peeked through one half-opened eye and saw my friend, Jordan calling. Jordan wasn’t a caller, a texter (at best). So, I picked up and immediately recognised the woeful tone in his voice. I was still grief-stricken from the last phone call I received from Jordan a week and a half before. He shakingly called out, “Carla?” when I picked up told me everything I needed to know. I’d lost another friend.
On 12th July 2019 and 26th July 2019, I lost two of my closest friends to motorbike accidents. I felt my world tilt when I first heard the news. By the 28th, my world has collapsed. I don’t think I ever realised how much death affects everyone around you. Personally, I fell into a depression. I remember seeing the look on their mums’ faces at the funeral. Haunting. Sometimes I bump into their family members, and I am immediately transported to beautiful memories or sad, lost reminders of what could have been. One day, about two years ago, I remember taking a trip to the local cornershop and the attendant asked, while packing my bag of goods, “Where’s that friend of yours? The one with the black and gold R1? Haven’t seen him in a while”. I didn’t respond, grabbed my bag and couldn’t reach the end of the road before bursting into tears.
I wish others knew how much it hurt to lose someone like this.
Motorbikes were a huge part of our lives and for me, they still are. I am a motorbike mechanic when I am not studying, and I still love to go on a short ride with friends. But now, it’s different. When I was younger, I believed there was no such thing as safety and fun. Now that I am less ignorant and more responsible, I realise that the two are synonymous. You can’t have one without the other. As I grappled with my loss, I began to see the larger picture. Their deaths weren’t just tragic - they were a stark reminder of the risks we take on the road, especially when it comes to motorbikes. We often talk about road safety, but it's something we rarely think about until it’s too late. I started to realise that what happened to my friends, could also happen to me. I’m not unique or special in any way. And if I’m not immortal then neither were the rest of my biker friends.
I began advocating road safety as an imperative. Every time I got on my motorbike, I was reminded of their absence. And it’s not just about the feeling of riding—it’s about responsibility to myself and others.
Firstly, protection: if you can’t afford sufficient helmet, gloves, jackets and other gear then you shouldn’t be on a motorbike. Especially living in cold, rainy London.
Secondly; understanding the dangers of the road and knowing how to navigate this by respecting the limits, and when to call it a day. We had always been careful riders, but even the most careful riders can make a mistake, and in the case of a motorbike accident, that mistake can cost everything.
Thirdly, keeping the bike in top condition. Everyone should know how to complete a basic check on their bike before heading off.
Lastly, better education and public awareness of the dangers. For example, in the UK, the licensing requirements benefit the state by acting as a commodity, but they do not ensure riders are well-trained and fit to drive. Driving policies, such as those in Spain are much more efficient and truly help to reduce accidents and focus on safe riding habits. Spain is rated as second to the highest number of motorbike riders in Europe, with 13.6% of road-users having a motorbike (ACEM, 2024). However, they are ranked fifth for being the safest European country in relation to being a motorcyclist (European Commission, 2020). This is a testament to Spain’s robust driving scheme consisting of age restrictions, a psychometric test and four other tests. I truly believe that investing in rider education programmes that focus on safety and understanding the consequences of risky behaviour like using your phone, speeding and impaired driving; make a huge, positive difference. It’s about understanding that no ride is worth the risk of failure to arrive home safely.
In honour of my friends, I’ve tried my hardest to carry their legacy with me. Their deaths serve as a painful reminder that we can never take our safety for granted. We’re all vulnerable on the road, and the consequences of ignoring that fact can be devastating. I’ve started to talk more openly about road safety, encouraging friends to always wear their correct gear, to never ride recklessly and to think twice before speeding. And when I do think of them, it’s not just the memories of the laughter and good times, but also the realisation that safety isn’t just something we should think about when it’s convenient. It should be a way of life. I can only hope that by sharing their story, others will be reminded to slow down, ride safely, and cherish the moments we have, because in the blink of an eye, it could all be gone.