The night was cloaked in darkness when Sharaz Ali, fueled by rage and a twisted sense of betrayal, arrived at the house on Westbury Road. He wasn’t alone. With him was Calum Sunderland, carrying the tools of a horrifying intent – a seven-litre canister brimming with petrol and a lighter.
Inside, Bryonie Gawith and her sister, Antonia, were upstairs. Bryonie had recently found the strength to leave Ali’s controlling grip, a decision he couldn’t accept. Antonia had offered her unwavering support, and Ali blamed Bryonie’s sister for the breakup, a simmering resentment that would soon explode.
CCTV footage captured the chilling prelude. Ali, his voice laced with menace, instructed Sunderland to “kick the door in.” The splintering wood echoed in the quiet street as Sunderland obeyed, rushing back to the car to rejoin Ali.
Antonia described a scene of terrifying speed. Ali burst into the house, dousing her with petrol while screaming accusations. She fought back, desperately trying to wrest the canister and lighter from his grasp, a frantic struggle for survival.
She managed to escape, running into the night, hoping to draw Ali away from her sister and the children. But when she turned back, a horrifying sight met her eyes. Bryonie, awakened by the chaos, was bravely confronting Ali at the top of the stairs.
In a desperate act of defiance, Bryonie kicked Ali down the stairs, attempting to protect her family. But Ali retaliated, igniting the petrol. Flames erupted, engulfing the house and trapping Bryonie and her three young children – Denisty, nine, Oscar, five, and Aubree, just 22 months old – inside.
Antonia’s screams for help pierced the night as she frantically tried to force open the jammed back door. She could only watch, helpless, as the house became a raging inferno. The realization that she was the intended target, that this devastation was meant for her, was a burden she would carry forever.
“Knowing they died because someone wanted to kill me is a torment I can never put into words,” she sobbed, the weight of unimaginable loss crushing her. “What haunts me the most is the attack was meant for me… I was spared when they were taken.”
The courtroom was filled with grief as Antonia remembered her sister and nieces and nephew. Bryonie, she said, possessed a warmth that could fill any room, a boundless heart that would have given anything to anyone.
The judge acknowledged Bryonie’s extraordinary courage, her unwavering determination to protect her children even in the face of certain danger. She had remained at the top of the stairs, a shield against the flames, begging Ali to stop, but her pleas were ignored.
Sunderland was sentenced to life, with a minimum term of 18 years for manslaughter. Ali’s actions extinguished four innocent lives, leaving behind a void that could never be filled and a family shattered by senseless violence.
The echoes of that night serve as a stark reminder of the devastating consequences of control, rage, and the tragic reality of violence against women.
