On Friday night, I stood in Pegler square with a thousand other people who had come out to honour the memory of Sabina Nessa and to express outrage at the violence that had taken her from her family and the community. The vigil was planned by local Kidbrooke women to show support for Sabina’s family and also to stand in solidarity with others that were feeling the same rage, grief and disbelief that this crime had happened on their doorstep.
I don’t think I will ever forget hearing Sabina’s sister Jabina's voice shake with emotion on Friday night. She said: ‘We have lost an amazing, caring, beautiful sister, who left this world far too early […] words cannot describe how we are feeling, this feels like we are stuck in a bad dream and can’t get out of it. Our world is shattered, we are simply lost for words.’
Mandu Reid, the leader of the Women’s Equality Party spoke later on Friday saying, ‘there is no liberation without community’ . She is right - and liberation from male violence against women is far overdue.
The first vigil I attended was when the Charlie Hebdo Massacre occurred, and colleagues and I stumbled out of work towards Trafalgar Square where there was an impromptu gathering to stand in solidarity with those journalists who were killed. To be around other people that were also in shock at what had happened and were feeling the way I was was a healing moment.
The need for that community, for that hug, for that healing moment was why I tweeted about holding a vigil for Sarah Everard in March. I was a woman living alone and I had not seen other women in person that were feeling the helpless rage that I was feeling. I had not had that hug in lockdown. I had not shared tissues and tears with people that were as broken and lost over what had happened. I had not been able to rage with other women about police telling women to stay at home to stay alive. I desperately needed that community. I had no idea that that tweet would lead to becoming a founder of Reclaim These Streets and working with amazing other women to lead an organisation on women’s safety in public spaces.
The Metropolitan Police then barred the vigil that Reclaim These Streets had organised and threatened us, as the organisers, with £10,000 in fines each and criminal prosecution under the Serious Crimes Act. We sued the police for our Human Right to Protest, but were unsuccessful on a solid judgement to allow us to go ahead without being arrested.
We ended up cancelling the official event, but that didn't stop many going anyway, to pay their respects and make an important stand. Pictures emerged of police arresting some who did; who had gone to seek solace and comfort and to share their grief and rage over the fact a serving police officer had murdered a woman.
Nothing has materially changed since March.
In the ensuing six months, we also held a vigil for Bibaa Henry and Nicole Smallman in Fryent Country Park to remember and celebrate their lives, not just to mark their murders. Their case had largely been ignored by the media, as most murders of women of colour are, and their mother Mina Smallman had discussed how diminished it made her and the community feel. In reaching out to Mina, we learned more about activism and grace and strength than could have been anticipated. We also learned the strength of bringing women together to be heard and amplifying those voices.
Our collective voices are not going away. We will not be silenced. Not by police, or by the government ignoring us. We will not stop gathering, we will not stop shouting, we will not stop petitioning to make our lives and our safety matter.
I never want to plan or attend a vigil again.
Vigils are important, especially for the immediate community, but they are not enough. They are not stopping men from murdering and raping us. They have not convinced the government to pass the Violence Against Women and Girls Act. Nothing has materially changed since March. Vigils give the media something to cover, they give politicians a place to show that they are with their constituents, but if there isn't follow up afterwards then real change does not occur. The empty promises after the vigil in March have stuck with me.
The work that takes place after the cameras go away is the work that will influence legislative change and ongoing community action. I never want to plan or attend a vigil again. I want men to stop killing us. I want to be safe walking home. I want to live without the pervasive fear of men. I want the need for vigils to be stopped at the root cause, which is violent men. I want the liberation that Mandu Reid spoke of. I want the community to gather to celebrate that liberation, but sadly I am not holding my breath.
READ MORE: Say Her Name: The Internet Reacts To The Murder Of Primary School Teacher Sabina Nessa