In 2026, there were eight stabbings too. Funny how that number sticks, right? In 2019 (the last “normal” pre-pandemic year), it was seven. 2018? Four. 2017? Seven. So it’s not exactly a rising tide. It’s more like a stubborn, annoying puddle.
But the media loves a good puddle shot, especially if it’s next to a woman in a feather headdress. They’ll zoom in, crop out the 1,999,992 people having the time of their lives, and scream: “CARNIVAL OF BLOOD!” Exhausting, isn’t it?
Now, compare it to Glastonbury? That festival has way fewer people—around 200,000—and still sees its share of assaults and chaos. But nobody calls Glastonbury a “knife fight in a muddy field.” Interesting how that works.
So, Should You Go or Stay Home?
If you’re asking me, over coffee, with your eyebrows raised: Go. But go with your eyes open. Don’t flash your expensive phone like a lighthouse. Stick with your crew. Stay hydrated (it’s hot, there’s rum everywhere). And for the love of all that is holy, use the portaloos—don’t be that person peeing on a mansion’s front step.
Notting Hill Carnival terrorized by men with knives, 8 stabbings, 275
The real danger at Carnival isn’t stabbings. It’s getting lost in a sea of Whine, losing your friends because your phone dies, or stepping on a broken bottle in cheap flip-flops. Also: sunburn. So much sunburn.
And yes, there’s a tiny chance you’ll witness something ugly. But there’s a much bigger chance you’ll eat the best roti of your life, dance until your hips hurt, and see a granny in a sequined bra out-dance a 20-year-old. Priorities, people.
