Lyra McKee
On Thursday night, a 29-year-old journalist was shot and killed in the Creggan in Derry by a member of the New IRA. When the 'old' IRA laid down arms as part of the ceasefire, several rump factions came together as the New IRA to keep the fight going. They were aiming at PSNI officers but instead shot Lyra, a very big-hearted woman whose work focussed on teenagers at risk of suicide. She was a talented writer, had an adorable smile, and had a two-book deal from Faber & Faber. She had it all in her sight, until she got caught in someone else's sights.
It is truly sickening to see the very best Northern Ireland has to offer sent to her grave. Her cute wee face has been all over my Facebook feed and I am grieving for someone I never met, whose books I'll never get to read, whose smile I'll never see first hand. The accounts from all who knew her are uniform in their praise of her open mindedness, her compassion, and her curiosity about others.
So today, Easter, I found myself listening to the Bishop of Derry on Sunday Sequence on Radio Ulster. He spoke so eloquently of the disdain for the New IRA and it's political wing Saoradh, which says it will liberate nationalists from the occupying British. The bishop said:
“The one liberation they require in that community is liberation from Saoradh,” he said. “We don’t want to be laboured with a reputation that comes from a small group that represents a small number of people but is actually a danger to all of us.”
During Easter Sunday mass from the church in the Creggan, the bishop made parallels between Lyra's death and Jesus's crucifixion. The resurrection is a symbol of eternal hope--of the victory of good over evil. Lyra's murder has sparked hope that communities like the Creggan (and East Belfast) will reject the paramilitaries that use tired narratives to prey on young people and pull them into the drug trade and violence. It was strange hearing a Catholic priest essentially compare a lesbian to Jesus Christ. But these are strange days. Lyra's death has attracted international attention. It's strange to be so sad about the death of someone I never knew, but I'm not alone.
My solace today was a gorgeous run this morning with Paddy through the Lagan meadows, where the valleys were filled with mist, and a late evening walk on the lovely coastal path, from Crawfordsburn to Bangor and back. In between I worked away on my home projects. I also enjoyed a table decorated with gifts from friends. My mom is visiting my sister, so I didn't get to talk to her today, or last Sunday. It's part of my dysfunctional family package. Hence my joy at being reminded of my friends every time I walk by this table, laden with gifts from Julie, Dara, Meabh, and Eddis.
April 21