Thoughts on turbulent times
“Stay safe” over the last two years has meant “try to not catch Covid” or “stay healthy”. The pandemic has often been framed in a military way, as some kind of war. Covid often being referred to as the “invisible enemy” we were all fighting against. Now, in Ukraine, “Stay safe” has gone back to meaning steer clear of conflict and try not to get killed. The enemy there is very much visible, and it seeks to destroy their freedom and democracy. A crisis followed by another… It seems like the twenties are roaring for all the wrong reasons.
On Saturday the 26th of February (day 3 of the invasion) I went to report on a protest outside the Russian embassy in Notting Hill. Whilst the conflict is on the other side of the continent, the pain in the eyes of Ukrainians I spoke to made it feel like it was just a few miles away. Their eyes brimming with tears, I thought about how awful it must be to not know whether your family is safe. Many spoke of feeling helpless. Many were angry. I spoke to Russians who stood there in solidarity. One had a Ukrainian flag wrapped around his shoulders.
But the first woman I spoke to was from Poland. Visibly emotional, she told me she worried the war would go beyond Ukraine’s borders. As she tried to hold back tears she told me how her grandparents fought in the Second World War and that she feared history was repeating itself.
I’d never interviewed people in such a state of distress before. It dawned on me that I had a responsibility. To do these people’s stories, their views, justice. Even though my reporting was for uni, not for the BBC or anything (not yet anyway, hehe) so not for public broadcast, I felt a moral responsibility towards every person who took the time to talk to me.
As I left the protest I saw “MURDERER” written on the floor in ketchup. The doorbell used to buzz people into the Russian Embassy was also spattered in ketchup, and I could smell it as I walked past. Even though I knew it wasn’t real blood, I still walked away feeling slightly unsettled.
Two days later I went to see a production of Shakespeare’s Henry V with mamma in Seven Dials. The scenes of war and invasion were equally unsettling. The actors had received training by an ex-marine, and it showed. It was very realistic. I’m sure everyone in the audience was thinking of Ukraine.
It seems history does keep repeating itself. One man’s view of his claim to a certain territory is a tale as old as time. Sitting in the front row, I thought of the families of the people I spoke to at the protest, as they cower from the action unfolding on the real stage that is their homeland.
Kit Harington (who played Henry V) did make solid eye contact with me whilst making his pre-war speech and called me “dear soldier” – so it wasn’t all doom and gloom. I was tempted to enlist right there and then.
It’s now been 3 weeks since Putin invaded Ukraine.
Yesterday I completed another story for uni on the government’s Nationality and Borders Bill. This piece of legislation, which is in its final stages in the House of Lords, seeks to – depending on which side of the argument you’re on – strengthen the UK’s asylum system or criminalise refugees for how they arrive in this country. The story brought me to yet another protest, this time outside the Houses of Parliament.
It seems like I’m turning into a bit of a protest adrenaline junkie.
This one was more specifically against the arms trade and the UK’s border security. Protesters chanted as loudly as they could “say it loud, say it clear, refugees are welcome here” and “no borders, no nations, no deportations” so as to be heard by MPs sitting just metres away inside parliament.
I know this might sound a bit cringey, but I’m starting to fully understand what John Lennon meant when he imagined what the world would be like with no countries.
