A Compulsion

When compelled to write, one writes. I feel that pull now – a quiet yet insistent force, a zeitgeist, perhaps. Something invisible yet undeniable stirs the writer to pick up a pen or keyboard and lay bare the mind – inviting others into the corners of their consciousness through words.

Likewise, another may feel compelled to leap from bed, grab a coat and handmade sign, and march into the streets in protest – angry, impassioned, determined to be heard for the sake of king and country.

The Day Courtesy Cracked

Unexpectedly, that civility cracked on 30th July 2024, as public outrage swept through Britain. The world watched – Al Jazeera, CNN, BBC, Telefe, CCTV, ABC – as a silent nation suddenly spoke.

For years, Britain’s silence was strategic. In its post-colonial era, it worked to rebrand: to be more inclusive, to be more accountable (The Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, Riley Linebaugh).

Take compensation made to Kenyan Mau Mau veterans (Business Daily Africa, 2020), the return of the famous Benin Bronzes back to Nigeria (National Geographic, 2022), the repatriation of aboriginal artefacts to Australia (The Art Newspaper, 2019), and full-ride Chevening Scholarships for international students (Menteprise Africa, 2024). 

These gestures certainly speak of repair and restraint.

But even the most deliberate silence can give way.

The Fire Ignites

Yet, on this particular Tuesday morning, the otherwise silent seaside town of Southport in England erupted in frantic yells and frenzied marches. Locals and international spectators watched as though they were at a Saturday football game, observing street rioters clash with law enforcement—the referees for the day—who made capacious efforts to mitigate the unexpected uproar. But the fire had spread far too quickly; the gasoline of emotion had leaked, and the vehicle was already burning. Searing in flames were the cities of London, Hartlepool, Manchester, Aldershot, and even pockets of neighbouring Northern Ireland that had risen in fury (Southport Riots Unrest, The Conversation 2024).

They say that anger requires a channel to flow to find its full expression. On this day, it demanded to flow wherever it pleased on account of the grievous stabbings of six-year-old Bebe King, seven-year-old Elsie Stancombe, and nine-year-old Alice Aguiar while they attended a dance workshop in the Southport settlement, leading to their demise.

The Boy Behind the Fire

The perpetrator of the crime was one Axel Rudakubana, a seventeen-year-old British male, born in Cardiff, England, to parents originally from Rwanda, Africa.

But why did he do it?

The question haunts a nation. While much remains concealed due to legal protections and Axel’s age, preliminary psychological evaluations leaked to the press alluded to mental health struggles and experiences of social isolation. Friends interviewed described a boy as withdrawn, often frustrated at his surroundings, and deeply troubled by a growing sense of alienation. Some speculate that this alienation, exacerbated by online radical content and a history of familial trauma, may have led him to a dark tipping point. Yet no motivation, no matter how layered, excuses such horror. What it does call for is a deeper national conversation about youth mental health, integration, and identity in modern Britain.

Even amid disarray, an incalculable number of individuals would agree that Mr. Rudakubana’s actions were ignominious, horrific and deserving of censure. Yet, what added insult to this already significant injury was the information vacuum left following the aggressor’s arrest. An English law prohibiting the public naming of suspects under the age of eighteen protected the revelation of Mr Rudakubana’s identity. What ensued thereafter permitted incorrect accounts to circulate throughout social media and the far-right English media ecosystem.

Whispers to Wildfire: Smoke over Small Boats

Scrolling online, many saw false posts bearing bitter harangues concerning the incident, a large portion of the same purporting that the suspect was ‘a Muslim that had arrived in England on a small boat’. What ensued thereafter was most unexpected: mosques, local businesses, estates housing immigrant asylum seekers, and numerous police vehicles saw far-right rioters smash windows, destroy property and set everything ablaze in their wake, chanting the phrase “We want our country back!”—a slogan commonly associated with political and social contexts in the United Kingdom relevant to nationalism, immigration sentiments, and ‘Brexit’.

With great immediacy, British citizens and Members of the English Parliament set out to condemn the severe nature of the protests and underlying ‘far-right hatred’ (Dire Consequences Dished, 2024 Report for Politico, Joe Stanley-Smith). The following days saw pockets of community-led clean-up efforts, interfaith solidarity gatherings, walks, and press statements, standing in condemnation of the senseless injuring of police officers, mass destruction of personal and private property, and what was dubbed as ‘vastly prejudiced sentiments’ that had sent their great nation into great tumult.

Foreigners and Natives

While international journalists captured heartfelt images of well-wishers handing out flowers outside the Southport Mosque as a gesture of friendship and solidarity, over one hundred protestors were arrested in London alone. To the relief of the distressed, the riots gradually diminished over the subsequent weeks. The strongholds of disquiet had lulled, with many extremists capitulating to the demands for restoration of a sense of semblance, while others found their tongues stilled only by the bars of a jail cell.

Now, it is perfectly permissible for one to agree or disagree with the justifiability of the Southport riots. Irrespective of their stance, one must first delve into the reality of life through the eyes of an Englishman vis-à-vis those of an immigrant who now calls Britannia their home.

For a foreigner carrying their belongings from the Congo, China, India or Greenland, perhaps a change of location is fitting—exploring new ventures, experiencing another nation’s technological advancement, enjoying a more stable political climate, their higher education opportunities, or simply desiring a glass of sherry at The Shard now and then might be their compelling reason to pack their bags, depart from home, and call the land of the English their every day. 

Of course, for some, English breakfast or complimentary Yorkshire pudding at the local restaurant may not match the vision of home-made pepe soup, local street-smoked suya, mum’s chana masala or uncle’s well-done Middle Eastern musakhan – hearty meals one may have been so accustomed to in their native land. Indeed, the issue of differing menus may be a  minor hurdle for a foreigner to face in today’s climate. Yet one must still sympathize with the fact that, while the immigrant is in a land they love and benefit from, it does not always dull the distant ache for home.

On the other hand, for a Brit – born and bred in Grantham, having known only Berkshire or the Cotswolds, the streets of Brighton and bridges of Bristol, the forests of Sunderland and the green of Sheffield – the sudden springing up of an Asian farmer’s market or shops and parlours rooted deeply in Nordic heritage may feel strange, even disorienting. 

Yet still, one similarly sympathizes with the aboriginal who  does not find the change in their surroundings fitting to their imagined version of an ‘ideal Britain’ –from largely manicured lawns, to cities that carry that nuanced air of royalty and regalia stemming from – it is no fault of theirs (UK Public Opinion Towards Immigration 2025, The Migration Observatory, University of Oxford). 

Finding a Middle

Thus, what can be agreed upon from a sociological standpoint is that everybody in this narrative is happy and may also be uncomfortable, to some extent. Both the foreigner and the local may resonate with this refrain in virtually any part of the world—and yet, if we are to live in an equal world, we must all have an equal view: an equal view of freedom and cultural expression, given for all to engage with, quickly  tossing all forms of neocolonialism back into the dark ages.

The Carnival is Here

The momentous arrival of the Notting Hill Carnival on August 25, 2024,  lifted the heavy air that had clogged English airspaces for a month following the Southport massacre. The event came with a glimmer of light and a fresh and unexpected wind.

Being a Caribbean event (also referred to as Shrovetide in certain localities) and led by members of the British-Caribbean community, participants enjoyed what they always came for –the public celebrations, parades, street parties, and elaborate costume shows. Not only were the two million attendees, both local and international, joyous on this day, but so was the government, which was permitted to pocket roughly £93 million on account of the event.

History tells that the festival can be traced back to the enslavement period and Mardi Gras masquerade balls held by French plantation owners. As enslaved Africans were forbidden from participating, they developed their festival drawing on African dance traditions. Following complete emancipation in 1838, many free men and women took to the streets and continued these traditions, joined boisterously by British locals from various parts of the nation (Celebrating Diversity Paper 2015, Foreign Commonwealth & Development Office).

Aside from dancing to the beats of soca, calypso and afro-fusion, the event this particular year was of vital importance for both British natives and those with immigrant roots alike, granted that the Notting Hill Carnival has its roots in the traditions of the Caribbean people, particularly those from the island of Trinidad. 

This, coupled with the socio-political condition of the post-1948 immigration of Caribbean groups on the SS Empire Windrush ship which saw more than three hundred thousand migrants settle in Britain, proved that it was more than just about music –it was a moment of unity. Due to British colonialism the fates of the two cultures are inextricably linked. It reminded the nation that coexistence was not only necessary, it was beautiful.

Future Hopes: What Now?

MrMatthew Philip, CEO of The Notting Hill Carnival Limited, was profoundly right to note: “The timing of the festivities was particularly important following the violent disorder that spread across the nation.”

And so we ask: what do we do now?

The Carnival has shown us what is possible—a vibrant, multicultural Britain in harmony. The hope is that we go beyond symbolism, that we commit to policy reforms addressing inequality, that schools and communities foster cultural understanding, and that mental health and youth outreach become priorities in national healing.

We have seen Britain making solemn reparations, in mature understanding that plenty of their war-time and colonial actions are not the same sentiments shared today as by their forefathers. Having grasped this, it is important to understand that it is not for any given group to narrow down and target a people, castigating the innocent alongside their confused and startled children. Rather it is to deal with the perpetrators of evil and social injustice singularly, no matter their race, religion or gender. 

The perpetrator of the Southport crimes should be dealt with as an individual without having to have peaceful religious and ethnic communities suffer as a result. 

A Final Reflection

Indeed, everybody wants to feel as though the land in which they live, with all its heritage and history, is truly theirs, without having it occupied by some strange and permanent guest. Yet  still, others have an equally great desire to be accepted by their new brothers and sisters in a land within which they have grown so accustomed that they might as well call home. 

Both those that desire to feel that their country truly belongs to them and them alone and those that claim English soil just as much carry weighty feelings that are vital and of great importance when attempting to dissect the unprecedented Southport riots. 

The answer sought by those who  inhabit this earth we call home as a magic pill to solve their social qualms is to simply: coexist. To crush negative assumptions and stereotypes, annihilate any form of marginalization for all. Respecting heritage and feeling free to enjoy both “yours” and “theirs,” unreservedly, with no guilt and no shame.

Inhabitants of the United Kingdom, in this season, appeared to be waiting for someone or something to remind them of this truth.

The arrival of the Notting Hill Carnival was their obvious, shimmering sign in the sky.