‘My kids are crying’: list of targeted addresses stokes fear across Belfast

As widespread violence broke out in Belfast, a list of addresses began circulating on social media. Spread geographically wide, on dozens of streets across the city, the addresses were reportedly houses of multiple occupation (HMOs) where immigrants live.

Joseph and Solomon, both from Eritrea, came to Belfast as refugees and now have leave to remain and work full-time. They live on the same street as one of the properties on the list, but Joseph thought it was theirs that was meant to be on it. “It’s obviously for us,” he said. “I don’t know how to feel. When something is too much, you don’t feel anything.” Until now, Joseph felt safe in Belfast, but now he is planning to leave. “I don’t know where, somewhere safe. I’m planning my escape.” Solomon is also planning to leave Belfast.

As the Guardian finished talking to the men, a white woman came out of her house nearby to check they were not there because of the list. She asked: “Are you reporters or something?” “I’m petrified,” she said. “It’s really upsetting and I want to cry. I just wanted to check you weren’t giving them any bother, because they’re lovely.”

Paul Doherty runs a community solidarity hub in south Belfast. On Wednesday night, he was in the centre when a car pulled up outside. “It was a mother and she was just in hysterics crying,” he said. “I looked in the back of her car and there was three kids and they were crying in the car and she said that their house had been listed on a social media post.” Her children had seen the post. “She didn’t want to go home. The kids didn’t want to go home.” In response to the post, community members have quietly stepped up, looking out for their neighbours.

The list has stoked a culture of fear that is permeating Belfast’s small minority ethnic communities, as have the violent attacks over the past two nights. On Wednesday night a mob tried to attack a hotel housing asylum seekers, but when they could not reach it, clashes broke out with police. The night before, minority ethnic families were forced out of their homes, businesses looted and burned, and vehicles set on fire.

Mohammed fled Syria during the war in 2015; he lifts up his trouser leg to show an injury to his shin from a bomb blast. His children were all born here and speak with Belfast accents. But he is now planning to leave this summer, perhaps to move back to Syria or Egypt. “We are not like this guy [the knife attack suspect],” he said. “We are looking just only for a new life.”

Mohammad, who manages a supermarket in a majority-loyalist area, had his shop set on fire on Tuesday; his entire stock was destroyed. “At home it’s very bad. My kids are crying. We don’t sleep, actually. This morning, four o’clock in the morning, my wee boy told me: ‘I don’t want to go school. I don’t want to go to school.’” Sultan, the son of the shop’s owner, watched on the news as the shop burned. “We knew it was gone,” he said. “There’s nothing more you can do. It’s wrong. It’s all happened to the innocent people.”

Kfloum Tekly Kassa was evacuated from the block of flats above the parade of shops where the supermarket was set alight. He was forced to flee with his wife and their two-month-old daughter. “It’s very hard,” he said. “My wife was very afraid. This is not humanity.” He too is afraid. “I have children. Maybe I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

This week’s violence has cast a light on racism in Northern Ireland. Last year, racist incidents were at their highest recorded level, and now outweigh sectarian incidents. “We were expecting something,” said Kashif Akram from the Belfast Islamic Centre. “We expect something every summer, unfortunately, since August 2024.” He said last year someone tried to enter the building, smashed a window, and threw an incendiary device. “It’s almost like it’s been allowed,” he added. “The dehumanisation of immigrants and Muslims has been an ongoing thing.” He also said far-right politicians have normalised violence and legitimised fear of immigration.

Tim Magowan, executive director of the 174 Trust, which works to build relationships between local and immigrant populations, said on Tuesday its refugee English class had to stop, and people forced out of their homes have been coming to the charity’s clothes bank. “Most people of colour that I know have stories,” he said. “At the moment we’ve only 3% of people of colour living in our communities. I think that we also have a culture which is fundamentally about division.”