Even before I returned to Huddersfield to begin working on this story, I was aware that many British Pakistanis didn’t want to talk about these type of issues for fear of the far-right capitalising on any perceived wrongdoing among our community.

This fear stems partly from the actions of groups like Britain First and the English Defence League, which have used news stories to push an anti-immigrant, anti-Pakistani, anti-Muslim agenda. These groups pedal the “We are not racist” mantra, instead suggesting their only issue is with “Islamisation”. They will twist headlines to back up their view of our community. As more than a few people in Huddersfield told me: “They act like we’re all either terrorists or groomers.”

I’m aware that those with an agenda will delight in adding drug dealing to the list of wrongdoing and could use it to stoke racist sentiments against my community. But that should not stop us from talking, asking questions and looking for solutions. So many of my peers are, in my opinion, fixated on media bias and the far right. We are hyper defensive with so much energy going into establishing that we “are not all bad” that the possibility that a problem exists can be overlooked. In many circles, the conversation has stalled. That’s not helpful.

That refusal to engage with the reality around us reminds me of the Justice 4 Yassar rally I attended at the start of my investigation. I now understand why so many people there were reluctant to talk to me beyond reeling off lines about Yassar being a “great guy”.

Since then, it has been established in court that Yassar Yaqub had gone to Bradford to meet a drugs kingpin on the day he died. The meeting is believed to have been about a drugs dispute. It also emerged that, shortly after police forced the car Yassar was in to come to a stop, a plain-clothes officer opened fire and as a result, Yassar lost his life. A gun, along with a silencer and ammunition, was recovered from the car Yassar was in.

For any life to end in this way is tragic. Yassar was a dad and a much-loved son. He left behind an entire community that has struggled to process the significance of his life and how it relates to his death.

In an attempt to reach out to the community, I asked a local radio station if I could make an appearance on one of their shows. I hoped a phone-in might shed some light on what other Pakistani people in the neighbourhood thought about the issues I'd been investigating.

One caller, living in the Birkby area, said they thought local people were “fed up” and wanted issues around violence and drugs “to be sorted”. He pointed out that it’s not just Pakistani people who are involved, but said: “You’ve got to be honest and you’ve got to tackle it within your own community. You can’t hide behind the fact that other people are also doing it, but I think a lot of families are burying their heads in the sand”.

Discussing whether or not there had been a rise in violent crime in the Asian community, another local caller, in my view, hit the nail on the head. He said that “disproportionate” reporting of crimes by Asian people can put the community “on the defensive”. However, he added: “Then, the problem that we have is that we have our focus on being negatively portrayed in the media - but then the problem itself is brushed aside”.

If any good can come from what happened, it is the acceptance that the only way forward is through talking. Those conversations can be painful. They can be riddled with shame. But, if things are going to change, these conversations need to happen.