When the Far Right Marches, Manchester Must Choose Care, with our campainer and activist Vengai Mutsawu
This weekend, a far-right march is planned in Manchester city centre. As someone who works closely with people who have lived experience of the UK immigration system, I have found myself searching for the right words
How do we encourage vulnerable members of our community to whom hate is directed to avoid the city centre without frightening them? How do we prioritise safety without reinforcing fear?
For many people seeking asylum, weekends in town are not just leisure, they are relief. I remember saving part of my £35 weekly allowance as an asylum seeker just to afford a day pass into the city. Sitting in Piccadilly Gardens, watching families shop, children play, and hearing music from buskers,those small moments made me feel human again. They offered temporary escape from reporting requirements, uncertainty, and the constant sense of not knowing where I stood.
Public space matters that is why events like this weekend’s march carry weight beyond politics. For some residents, particularly those who previously experienced hostility outside asylum accommodation, the sound of chanting crowds is not abstract. It can be retraumatising.
“Choose spaces that feel safe this weekend, stay connected to a trusted community, move with care and If you need support, reach out. Remember we are together and loved.”
In my part-time role supporting young people with complex trauma, we follow care plans that deliberately avoid triggering environments. We understand that certain spaces, sounds or conversations can reopen wounds.
Yet many people navigating the immigration system do not have that protection. They cannot always avoid hostile language. They cannot switch off chants telling them they do not belong.We can share practical safety information and we can advise people to travel carefully. But we cannot fully shield people from the emotional impact of being told, loudly and publicly, that they are unwanted.
So what is the right message?Perhaps it is this: “Choose spaces that feel safe this weekend, stay connected to a trusted community, move with care and If you need support, reach out. Remember we are together and loved.”
Avoiding a potentially hostile space is not a weakness. It is self-protection. It is survival.
There is another side to this conversation, one that affects organisers and community leaders themselves.
Many of us leading local groups also carry lived experience. We are expected to be calm, strategic and reassuring. We translate fear into guidance. We absorb anxiety from those around us. But we are human too. Moments like this can be triggering.
Holding the line does not mean standing in front of harm alone. It means sharing accurate information, coordinating responsibly, and supporting one another behind the scenes. It means thinking long-term about the wellbeing of our communities.
Manchester has always been shaped by migration. Its strength comes from the communities that live, work and build their lives here.Over the years, we have built strong local alliances, neighbours, faith groups, trade unionists and community organisers who stand for inclusion. This weekend is also a moment for those allies to take visible leadership, to demonstrate that hostility does not define this city.
A march may occupy the city centre for a few hours. But belonging in Manchester is built every day, in schools, workplaces, markets, community centres, and in the simple act of sitting in Piccadilly Gardens on a Saturday afternoon without fear
That is the Manchester many of us are committed to building, and that work continues long after the chants fade.
If some of us step back from confrontation, it is not cowardice. It is a strategy. It is a shared responsibility for our future. It is also the trust we have in our allies, who will be there for us. Sustainable movements require care. Maggy Moyo