Post by Tayba Azim

My son Mohsin Qayyum and his best friend Yusuf were front‑page news in the Telegraph & Argus this morning. Two young boys, acting from instinct and compassion, recognised publicly for doing what so many of us hope our children would do. But their story doesn’t sit in isolation. It sits inside a political climate where Islamophobia, racism, and hostility are not only rising — they are being normalised. The growth of Reform as a political force, and the increasing presence of certain flags and symbols, carries a very real weight for many of us. A flag can be about football or local pride, yes. But it has also become a symbol co‑opted by far‑right groups, and for those of us who have lived with generational and systemic discrimination, our bodies register that before our minds do. As a British Kashmiri Muslim single mother, this is the reality I navigate every day. There is a constant, quiet vigilance that comes with raising a brown Muslim boy in a country where he can be misread in an instant. I remind Mohsin to be aware, to be careful, to understand the politics of perception. And yet, I’ve also raised him to be courageous, compassionate, and principled — values rooted in Islam, in South Asian culture, and in the legacy of our communities who have always resisted through care. So when Mohsin and Yusuf stopped to help, they weren’t just “good kids.” They were embodying a lineage of resilience, compassion, and moral clarity that our communities have carried for generations — often in the face of hostility. Sharing this is my way of naming the layers: the pride, the fear, the political climate, the lived experience of being racialised, and the deep humanity that still guides us. In a moment where division is being fuelled from the top down, these boys chose humanity. They chose courage. They chose compassion. Humanity first. https://lnkd.in/et5bBjau