We are all the same on inside

Waking up to the sound of helicopters swirling overhead on the nights after the terrorist attacks on the two Christchurch mosques took me right back to the days following the February 2011 quake.

And the presence of police carrying assault rifles monitoring the cordons was another reminder that the normal boundaries had, once again, been breached.

One of the abiding images of that terrible day is footage of a young Muslim woman kneeling on the ground in Hagley Park and sobbing inconsolably into her hands. Along the sleeve of her hoodie was the word "Disconnect" writ large, a word that so aptly sums up what many of us are feeling. It has been too earth-shattering, too discombobulating as we try inadequately to lay a flower on the road, or throw a few dollars to give-a-little and show our support.

It is an understatement to say that any levelheaded person couldn’t help but feel deep sorrow for the Muslim families afflicted by these appalling mass murders that occurred in their places of peace and prayer.

It is hard to know where to put, and how to express, the outrage, sadness and disgust over the obscenities inflicted upon our fellow New Zealanders, who came to this country in search of safe harbour.

But if the perpetrator, or any of his dark and deeply misguided ilk, imagine that they have successfully kicked a city, and its inhabitants of any faith, when they are down, then they can think again. What his actions have accomplished is the complete opposite of his wicked intent.

I have been living back in Christchurch since Christmas and have returned to an exciting, multicultural city. As the surgeons operating on those with gunshot wounds will tell you, we are all the same on the inside. Whatever the colour of our skin, whatever faith or belief system we travel under, we all bleed red when we are cut.

The prime minister told us that these terrible acts were committed by someone who was Australian born, and not from Christchurch but resident in Dunedin.

Hoping to unify the country so we would all put our hands on the needle to help stitch us back together, she told us, "this isn’t us".

There has been much talk about the loss of innocence now that New Zealand, for the first time, is on high terror alert, and that we are ninth in an unenviable club of countries to have experienced terrorist attack.

A security analyst has begged to disagree, saying that we are laced with white supremacists, and are too laidback as individuals to stand up and interject when we witness incidents of racist attack.

Are we big enough for the challenge to rise above the level of easy-going Crusader supporters to fight the dark tribe of self-imagined Knights Templar, who have been allowed to mutate and multiply on sinister social media channels?

And are we in it for the long game? As we reach out to our Muslim brothers and sisters in the heady days ahead, can we, as the wider community, find a way through and show commitment to walk alongside the children left without a mother or father for the generation to come?

We are on notice as the eye of the world is upon us as it observes how our judicial system deals with the perpetrator. We want to send him back to the lucky country and for it to pay for his long incarceration. But we know it will be us who has to feed and house the beast, till the end of his days. Some call it living.