IT WAS early evening in the concrete jungle of Tuen Mun's Butterfly Estate, and the residents were angry. About 200 had gathered in an impromptu display of fury and frustration.
Hours before, burglars had broken into a 16th-floor flat and set it on fire. The fire spread to neighbouring homes and within minutes, six families were homeless.
In an urban environment where wanton violence was becoming the norm - there had been 50 copycat arson attacks in neighbouring estates in the past month - it was the final straw. The residents wanted action from the authorities, and quickly.
Amid yelling and crying, it took police, district board members and Housing Department officers several hours to calm them down and disperse the crowd.
Meanwhile, down the road at the district police station, it was a normal busy Wednesday night. A Mr Chan, with two sons in tow, was at the counter pleading with the duty officer for help.
His neighbour had something against his family, and was abusive and threatening every time they met on the staircase. What could he do to protect himself? Minutes later a group of three teenagers walked in. One of them approached the officer, took out his ID card and signed in a large directory. His two friends sat on a bench, casually discussing what they could do to amuse themselves that evening.
The youths were on bail, the officer explained, pointing to a long list of names of people who had already reported to the station that day.