Saira Begum Mir realised that people were struggling in east London, where she lives, so she stepped up to help.
‘Those who have the least, often have the most willingness to give’
My family moved to Britain in 1968 when I was six. We finally settled in Bradford, West Yorkshire, where I often faced discrimination for my Muslim faith and Pakistani heritage. It was scary at times: growing up, I was verbally abused in the street. Yet, every winter, in the ice and snow, people came together. Strangers would hold out their hands and help each other on the slippery pavements. In times of crisis, people don’t stop to think about race or gender. That really opened my eyes to the power of community.
In 1977, everyone celebrated Queen Elizabeth II’S Silver Jubilee. Our school was adorned with red, white and blue bunting, and tables were piled high with plates of food. I loved every moment. The community felt so united.
As an adult, community is still very important to me. By 2013, I was an outreach worker at a children’s centre in east London.
I love seeing people from all walks of life come together
I’d lived in the area since the 1980s, with my husband, Farooq, and it’s where we’d raised our children, Zuber, Sanah and Aadam. I’d met lots of locals through my job and saw how many were struggling with loneliness and poverty. I wanted to offer help and thought a Sunday meal club could be a way of doing that. I called it PL84U AL-SUFFA. The first part is ‘plate for you.’ Giving to charity is one of the pillars of my faith, so Al-suffa acknowledges my family’s identity as Muslims. It means ‘verandah’ in Arabic.
My daughter, Sanah, helped me secure six months’ start-up funding from ‘Near Neighbours’ (the Church Urban Fund), we hired the hall in the local church, St Gabriel’s, set up tables and opened in June 2013. Volunteers came in droves and we were able to provide weekly hot meals for the homeless, as well as anyone who needed some company. I loved seeing people from all walks of life come together. I remember one homeless man queuing up for groceries, when he noticed a mother with a pram behind him. Whatever items we gave him, he’d slip into the pram. ‘You need this food for yourself,’ I told him, but he was adamant the mother needed it more. As word spread, companies such as Tropical Sun Foods sponsored us and donated food. We eventually expanded to include a food and clothing bank. During the pandemic, we found new ways to ensure those in need were reached. We began doorstep deliveries, with fresh fruit, vegetables and small treats slipped in, such as flowers. We’ve now evolved into a one-stop hub for locals. Council services will often refer people to us. We’ve provided other necessities, such as haircuts, and we’ve furnished flats with kitchen goods and beds for vulnerable single parents.
Last summer, we threw a street party for The Queen’s Platinum Jubilee. More than 300 people came – including Jamaicans, Sri Lankans, Lebanese and Poles. Blending that rich diversity of cultures is what makes Britain great. In June, we’ll celebrate 10 years of our community hub with another party. In January 2022, I was awarded a British Empire Medal for my services to the community, particularly during Covid. The feeling of being recognised was indescribable. My role has taught me a lot; what has struck me most is that those who have the least, often have the most willingness to give. That gives me hope for the future of our communities.
Visit pl84ualsuffa.co.uk