The Linguist

council I interpreted simultaneously. At group meetings I made notes and interpreted in blocks, communicating the key points. This required some coordination so the Farsi speakers could sit together. Meetings with ministers were particularly challenging as the time allocated was always too short. There were hours of discussions, which would lead to more questions and long one-to-one phone calls. There were forms to fill out, emails to send, meetings to set up, research to be done and experts to find, and I needed to communicate all of these complexities in Farsi. As the response was so chaotic, information sharing became vital to ensure people were not left in the dark. Contradictions between what was said at different meetings needed to be clarified. This knowledge, absorbed through hours of meetings, reading countless documents and communicating with my community, became key to developing accuracy and informed agency. There were times when the experiences shared were deeply affecting; I had many sleepless nights. Although I was able to support my community, I was acutely aware there were other affected communities. What about the Middle Easterners, North Africans, East Africans or the Tagalog, Amharic and Tigrinya speakers? It was not until later in 2018 that this vacuum began to be filled, mostly by lawyers accustomed to securing language expertise for clients. The police, local council and central government were, to a great extent, 18 months behind the curve. Eventually, they started translating communications into several languages, but interpreting provision remains inadequate. Families complained about the lack of continuity, with different interpreters – unaware of the complex context – for every meeting. It was as though no one had imagined that a disaster could happen involving multiple fatalities of people with multiple language needs. I noticed that some interpreters were more effective than others, and at the end of meetings we would exchange numbers, building a network to ensure some measure of continuity. This loose coalition of Arabic, Amharic, Tigrinya and Farsi speakers was created out of necessity. Many interpreters offered their services for free when they could, and we became support structures for our respective communities. When I saw that the Ethiopian and Eritrean community was particularly marginalised, I offered to write a proposal for financial support from central government and the local council for them. This was the basis for a successful funding bid which secured a continuous interpreter and advocate. One of the biggest challenges was the lack of multilingual therapists. At a meeting with the director of the NHS team setting up the Grenfell Health and Wellbeing Service and the minister in charge of the emergency response, I asked if they could recruit multilingual therapists and was told it was "difficult" because "the data does not exist". Instead, they offered an interpreter in the room with the therapist and client. The Grenfell NHS team has since recruited some bilingual therapists, but for most of those who urgently needed support it is too late. To improve services going forward, the NHS could consider gathering data on multilingual capacity and organising this into a coherent resource. They might even offer formal training and qualifications for multilingual therapists in our NHS system. Securing services for future disasters Nearly 8.5 years on, the system still lacks a fair framework for linguistic support. Indeed, there is no language support beyond the translation of official government letters and announcements. For important meetings with ministers, a complex arrangement needs to be requested, which often puts people off. At a recent crucial meeting, an Afghan woman was offered an interpreter who spoke no Dari, so a civil servant fetched a random person (not an interpreter) who spoke Farsi (not Dari). The issue is what system should be in place to ensure comprehensive language support can be mobilised at times of crisis. Should emergency planners build the need for multilingual support into response scenarios? How can we, as a profession, participate in shaping this crucial work so that future disaster victims in complex, multilingual communities are properly served from the outset with care and continuity? What rights do victims have to insist on language support that meets their needs? How can victims get justice when they are systemically denied the tools they need to fight for it? We need meaningful dialogue with the government departments responsible for emergency planning. Only thus can we make a difference for future victims. I hope the bodies that represent us, such as CIOL, are actively included in these conversations, ensuring that linguistic needs are part of the emergency response. Victims at their most vulnerable time deserve full, appropriate and compassionate support on their terms. The greatest hope is that those who plan for tomorrow's disasters will learn from the Grenfell experience. NEVER FORGOTTEN (L-r) Flowers left in tribute; sisters Fatemeh and Sakineh, who died together in Grenfell; and the tower was covered after the fire 10 The Linguist Vol/64 No/4 ciol.org.uk/thelinguist FEATURES © SHUTTERSTOCK

• Cover