Kate Nicholl, MLA for South Belfast, reflects on the recent riots that shook the city and the powerful community response that followed. Writing in Metro, she recounts a poignant moment with a young Sudanese woman at Stormont who apologised for the violence, despite having no responsibility for it. Nicholl emphasises that the burden of explanation often falls on those already carrying fear.
The spark of violence
The unrest began on June 8 with a brutal attack on Stephen Ogilvie in North Belfast, igniting tensions that had been simmering for years. Nicholl points to economic anxiety, social media amplification, and deliberate division-stoking by both foreign and local actors as underlying causes. Within hours, calls for protests circulated online, leading to devastating scenes: families fleeing, police attacked, buses burned, and businesses destroyed.
Misunderstood by outsiders
Commentators unfamiliar with Northern Ireland quickly labelled it a far-right case study, but Nicholl argues the racism seen in Belfast is not unique. She highlights the quiet, dignified resistance of the community: women driving into danger to rescue families, churches opening doors, neighbours delivering notes of support, and WhatsApp groups organising protection. This grassroots solidarity, she says, was largely overlooked.
Grassroots action in crisis
Visiting the Anaka Women's Collective, Nicholl witnessed an immediate, effective response. Women from migrant backgrounds had already set up safe spaces, welfare checks, emergency supplies, counselling, and legal advice. They acted with dignity and speed, bypassing bureaucratic delays. Nicholl notes that grassroots organisations achieved in days what government agencies would take weeks to coordinate.
Community stands together
An anti-racism rally at City Hall drew thousands, including the Sudanese woman who earlier apologised. She told Nicholl, 'My panic has gone.' The Belfast Telegraph reported migrant groups praising the overwhelmingly positive community response. When an address list threatened migrant families, the community stepped up to protect them. Businesses were rebuilt, and people spoke out when silence might have been safer.
A legacy of empathy
Nicholl recalls Anna Lo, the first and only minority ethnic MLA in Northern Ireland, who would have been 76 this week. She believes Lo would have been moved by the solidarity that emerged. Northern Ireland's superpower, Nicholl concludes, is empathy—earned through pain and now healing the community. The message is clear: while tensions remain, the real Belfast is one of unity and compassion.
