Skip to main content

One Flu Over? | Gearóid Ó Cairealláin - The Definitive Activist | Israeli Barbarity Knows No Boundaries.

ONE FLU OVER?

I have the flu. It’s a sign of my loyalty to you dear reader, that I write this column in my sick bed. Bathed in sweat. I’ve changed my T shirt four times since Saint Stephen’s Day. I ran out of paper hankies and turned to kitchen roll for nose cleaning duties. The snatters are tripping me. I’ve changed my sheets as well. Three times. Everyone else is away so I phoned Richard. 

‘I’ve got the flu’ I told him. ‘This could be my last call to you’.

‘I would be so lucky,’ he retorted. ‘Try a hot whisky’. 

‘I still haven’t done my weekly column.’ I told him. 

‘You have until Saturday,’ he consoled me. ‘By the way, be careful you don’t have Covid’. 

‘I got my Covid injection,’ I replied.

 ‘And your flu one also,’ he countered. 

That was true. Richard is usually the most helpful person I know but he has had a few days off. He seems to have forgotten that we are friends. A friend in need is a friend indeed and all that. Or maybe he was just being contrary.  I’ve noticed that a wee bit recently.  So I ended our less than helpful call and hobbled into the bathroom to do my own Covid test. 

A Covid test is a rather complicated process. Especially for someone as sick as me. But I persisted. Despite the challenging size of the very small print of the instructions - not helped by my short sighted tear filled eyes -  I eventually completed the rigorous poking up my nostrils with the cotton buddy thingymebob   

Then the other intricate manoeuvres before checking the outcome after fifteen minutes. Meanwhile I coughed and spluttered and sneezed and sweated my way back and forth to the bedroom. I had to keep reading the instructions to be sure what was negative and what was positive. Until eventually I got the all clear. 

I don’t have Covid. 

And I also don’t have a column. But I do have some deadly illness which has reduced me to a shivering, shaking, sweating blob  of barely sustainable flesh. That’s when I remembered Richard’s suggestion of a hot whisky. The journey to the kitchen was like my last descent from Errigal. Slow and panicky. Most hill walking and mountain climbing accidents happen on the way down. Ditto with stairs, I suppose. But the hot Jameson was worth it. It also got me out of bed. And the second one kept me up so there is hope for the column being done on time.

Good old Richard. He knew what he was doing. So a happy new year to him and to all of you. If I survive this affliction I will be for ever indebted to hot whisky. And Richard.  Sláinte. Hic.  Bliain Úr Faoi Mhaise Daoibhse. 

 

Gearóid Ó Cairealláin – the definitive activist

Lots has already been written about Gearóid Ó Cairealláin who died a fortnight ago. He was such a vital part of the Irish language community in west Belfast over so many years, and as someone I knew and greatly respected him, I cannot allow his passing to go without a wee personal tribute.

Like many others I was shocked to hear of his death. His passing has left a deep void in the life of his family and also of the Irish language community in west Belfast and across the island of Ireland. Gearóid was an extraordinary human being who embraced life to its fullest. He was a writer, a musician, an actor, a playwright, a theatre director, a journalist and a visionary. He packed into his time with us an amazing amount of astonishing activism, most notably in his unrelenting promotion of the Irish language.

Gearóid had a boundless energy which even the terrible stroke that almost killed him in 2006 and left him in a wheelchair, could not diminish. He was passionate about the Irish language. His determination to champion equality and parity for the Gaeilge and for gaeilgeoirí was widely recognised and applauded. He was part of that small and valiant group of activists who took a stand for Irish language and civil rights. Their list of accomplishments is long.

At a time when the British colonial office - the NIO - and government departments, were actively discriminating against Irish speakers and denying Bunscoil Phobail Feirste, and the hundreds of children attending it, of any funding, Gearóid refused to be intimidated and silenced. In 1981 he published Preas an Phobail. This was followed several years later by the excellent daily Irish language newspaper Lá. He used his platforms to take a stand against the discriminatory policies of Belfast City Council highlighting the inequalities that confronted gaeilgeoirí every day in Belfast City.

With others Gearóid pioneered Coláiste Feirste, Aisling Ghéar and Cultúrlann Mac Adams-Ó Fiaich and Raidió Fáilte and between 1995 and 1998 he was the President of Conradh na Gaeilge. Gearóid was also an internationalist, especially in solidarity with the Palestinians. In 2001 along with Eoin O’Neill he travelled to South Africa and made a documentary for TG4 which included a meeting I had with Nelson Mandela.

There is a Belfast seanfhocal  - ‘Ná hAbair é, Déan é' – Don’t talk about it – do it, which in many ways reflects the very personal approach Gearóid brought to his activism.

His standing as a Cranntaca of the Irish language community is evident in the many statements in praise of him following his unexpected death, including from An tUachtarán Michael D Higgins. 

I want to extend my solidarity and condolences to his wife Bríd, and sons Ainle, Cairbre, and Naoise, his mother Theresa and to Gearóid’s extended family circle and many, many friends.

The Mass in his honour in Saint Peters where he was baptised had mighty singers and musicians, all of them outstanding -Gráinne Holland’s Caoineadh Na Tri Mhuíre  captured the mood - and Fr Brian O Fearraigh paid a wonderful tribute to Gearóid. No doubt this continued in An Culturlann and will continue for as long as Gearóid’s name is mentioned. 

 

Israeli barbarity knows no boundaries

We begin the new year as we ended the old one in the Middle East. The Israeli military - its ground forces, and air force - continue their expansionist war in southern Lebanon, Syria, the west Bank, the Gaza Strip and in the Yemen. In pursuit of its land grab Israeli soldiers last weekend forcibly invaded Kamal Adwan Hospital in northern Gaza and gave the staff 15 minutes to leave. The Israeli forces then stripped the doctors, nurses and other medical staff and forced the semi naked medics and gravely injured patients out on to the cold and rubble strewn streets. There were 350 people in the hospital, including 180 medical workers and 75 wounded people. Many of the medics were taken away by the Israeli forces their plight uncertain.

The weather in Gaza is very cold. At least four babies have died from hypothermia in recent days. Many hundreds of thousands of displaced families are now surviving in makeshift tents with no heating, little food and no warm clothes or blankets.

Last week the United Nations agency for Palestinian refugees, UNWRA reported that a Palestinian child is killed in Gaza every hour. UNWRA said: “They are not just numbers; they are lives lost in a short time without any justification. Those who survive endure the trauma of displacement, are deprived of education and are left scavenging for food among the ruins of their homes.”

At the same time Israel continued its deliberate targeting of journalists killing five who were travelling in a clearly marked press vehicle in central Gaza. Their deaths bring to over 200 the number of journalists killed by Israel in the last 15 months.

2024 is at an end but Israeli aggression in the Middle East and in particular its genocidal policy in Gaza, is unlikely to end unless those western states which back it – the USA, Britain, Germany, France and others within the EU – refuse to send weapons and bombs and chose instead to impose sanctions.

 

 

 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Best International Documentary | Defend the GPO and Save Moore St. | A Week in the Life and Death of GAZA

  Best International Documentary I spent the weekend in Galway and Mayo. The weather was amazing. The countryside with its miles of stone walls separating plots of land and the lush colours of green and rocky inclines was a joy to travel through. I was in Galway on Saturday to attend the Galway Film Festival/Fleadh where Trisha Ziff’s film – A Ballymurphy Man - was receiving its world premiere. The cinema in the old Town Hall where the Festival is centred was packed to capacity for the screening. The audience was hugely attentive and very welcoming when Trisha and I went on the stage at the end of the screening to talk about the making of the documentary. The next day I was in Mayo when Trisha text me to say that ‘A Ballymurphy Man’ had taken the Festival award for Best International Documentary. So well done Trisha and her team who worked hard over five years, with very limited funding to produce this film. In Mayo I met Martin Neary, who has bequeathed his 40-acre homeste...

Turf Lodge – A Proud Community

This blog attended a very special celebration earlier this week. It was Turf Lodge: 2010 Anois is Arís 50th Anniversary. For those of you who don’t know Turf Lodge is a proud Belfast working class community. Through many difficult years the people of Turf Lodge demonstrated time and time again a commitment to their families and to each other. Like Ballymurphy and Andersonstown, Turf Lodge was one of many estates that were built on the then outskirts of Belfast in the years after the end of World War 2. They were part of a programme of work by Belfast City Corporation known as the ‘Slum clearance and houses redevelopment programme.’ The land on which Turf Lodge was built was eventually bought by the Corporation in June 1956. The name of the estate, it is said, came from a farm on which the estate was built. But it was four years later, in October 1960, and after many disputes and delays between builders and the Corporation, that the first completed houses were handed over for allocation...

The murder of Nora McCabe

Nora McCabe was murdered almost 29 years ago on July 9th 1981. She was shot in the back of the head at close range by a plastic bullet fired from an RUC armoured landrover. She died the next day in hospital from her injuries. It was the same morning Joe McDonnell died on hunger strike. Nora was aged 33 and the mother of three young children, the youngest three months old. Over the years I have met her husband Jim many times. He is a quiet but very determined man who never gave up on getting the truth. Jim knew what happened, but as in so many other similar incidents, the RUC and the Director of Public Prosecutions office embarked on a cover up of the circumstances in order to protect the RUC personnel responsible for Nora’s murder. At the inquest in November 1982 several RUC people gave evidence, including James Critchley who was the senior RUC officer in west Belfast at the time. He was in one of the armoured vehicles. The RUC claimed that there were barricades on the Falls Road, tha...