On Saturday 19th July, I joined an estimated 80,000 people in central London for the National March for Palestine. The forecast promised torrential rain, and for once, it didn’t disappoint. From the moment I stepped off the train, the sky unleashed its fury, but not even relentless downpours could drown out the voices calling for justice and an end to the suffering in Gaza.
As a photographer, I’m used to adapting to whatever conditions the day throws at me, but this was another level. Sheets of rain swept across the crowd, soaking banners, placards, and people alike, but the spirit remained unshaken. What struck me most was the sheer determination. The turnout was huge, and despite the elements, there was a powerful unity in the air, diverse communities marching side by side, chanting, singing, and standing up for what they believe in.
It’s a strange and disturbing time when holding a flag or peacefully protesting for the lives of Palestinian civilians can land you on the wrong side of a political narrative. To be labelled a threat for calling for a ceasefire, for opposing the bombing of hospitals and schools, feels dystopian. I’m ashamed of my government’s complicity and even more disillusioned with a police force that seems increasingly comfortable enforcing unjust mandates. History has taught us time and time again that "just following orders" is never an acceptable defence.
That said, the protest itself was overwhelmingly peaceful, if incredibly loud. As the march moved toward Downing Street, the weather gradually turned. The sun finally made an appearance, drying drenched signs and lifting dampened spirits. The shift in weather felt symbolic, a brief moment of light after weeks of devastation and darkness being inflicted overseas.
Photographing the protest, however, was a challenge. My camera, like me, wasn’t made for such wet conditions. It started acting up partway through, displaying error messages that I didn’t want to see in the middle of a massive crowd. Fearing permanent damage, I had to pack it away earlier than I would’ve liked. Thankfully, it’s since come back to life, but I can’t help but feel I missed capturing so many moments of resilience, beauty, and defiance that the day offered.
Still, what I did manage to document speaks volumes. The sea of umbrellas and the flags billowing in the wind, the drenched faces shouting for peace, it all tells a story. Not just of protest, but of people refusing to look away.
And that’s something worth photographing, rain or shine.
