In my third week at Migrants Organise, I immersed myself in many of the Resilience Festival activities. The festival is their annual event that runs through June and July, celebrating community and solidarity among members. It offers a series of gatherings designed to bring members, staff, and volunteers together to share space, build relationships, and nurture collective strength.

One of the first activities I joined was a walking group that followed a picturesque route along Regent’s Canal, ending at Victoria Park. Through this, I came to understand the concept of “Walking” as more than a simple physical activity. It is an intentional act of empowerment, especially for asylum seekers who often live in temporary accommodation like hostels or hotels with extremely limited space. Many spend months, even years, confined within the dim walls of their rooms. Their movements are restricted, their environment unfamiliar, and isolation often inevitable. In that context, something as simple as gathering for a walk becomes a quietly radical act. It’s an invitation to step out, to connect, and to reclaim one’s sense of orientation, both physically and emotionally. As someone new to London myself, I found that these walks helped me not only learn the landscape of the city but also the stories of the people walking beside me.

Another session I took part in was a storytelling group, which had decided only for that one time to take on an arts and crafts focus. The session involved creating pinboards that expressed each member’s personality and identity. Some worked in pairs, including two people who had just met but chose to collaborate. Through their shared project, they discovered commonalities and forged a new connection. Others approached the activity with remarkable spontaneity and creativity, translating their dreams into visual representations. Watching the variety of ways people chose to express themselves taught me a great deal about storytelling: how personal it is, how healing it can be, and how stories often take shape in community.

I also joined a group visit to the Royal Botanic Kew Gardens, guided by a volunteer who also works with the Gardens. The members in our group were Gazan asylum seekers who had arrived in the UK following the war on Gaza. As we walked through lush greenery and vibrant blooms, I could sense the emotional weight many were carrying, hearts still tethered to faraway homes and ongoing crises. It made me reflect on the ethics of documentation. How can we hold space for joy without ignoring pain? How can stories be shared in ways that affirm dignity, without re-traumatizing those who carry them?

Throughout the week, I continued building relationships with members and gaining insight into their lives. These bonds deepened my understanding of organising as an act of care. Something as ordinary as a group walk holds extraordinary power when it helps someone feel seen, welcomed, and grounded in a new place.

Later in the week, I met with the Housing Justice organiser at Migrants Organise, where we discussed the realities of housing inequality in London, particularly for people placed in hotels or hostels. I learned about the long-term health impacts of these environments, and how organising helps advocate for systemic change, not just through confrontation, but through strategy, collaboration, and persistence.

Beyond participating in these sessions, I’m also working on developing a series of stories and visual coverage of the Resilience Festival itself. Each interaction, walk, and conversation continues to teach me, not just about others, but about how to be more thoughtful, more grounded, and more ethical in the work of storytelling and solidarity.