Narrating the now: The Black Writers Guild – Where words met wounds

The event, titled Sankofa, opened with a powerful moment of reflection: it has now been five years since the murder of George Floyd, a tragedy that sparked a global reckoning with racism and injustice.

Yet, as the speakers reminded us, the struggle is far from over. In the world of publishing, the numbers remain stark: despite years of activism and promises of change, recent industry figures show that published authors in the UK remain overwhelmingly and disproportionately white. (Approximately 91% of authors are white, with 9% coming from Black, Asian, and multi-ethnic groups – Publishers Association).

This sobering fact set the tone for the day. It was a call to action, a reminder that representation is not just about visibility, but about equity, opportunity, and the power to shape narratives. The room was filled with both frustration and determination, an understanding that while progress has been made, there is still so much work to do.

Sankofa is a word from the Akan people of Ghana, often symbolised by a bird looking backward while moving forward. It means “to go back and get it” – a reminder that we must look to the past to inform our future, reclaiming lost histories and wisdom as we move forward. This theme resonated throughout the conference, shaping conversations about representation, equity, and the ongoing fight for justice.

Attendees were immersed in a vibrant programme of panel discussions, live performances, and a deeply moving keynote address by Margaret Busby, the UK’s first Black female publisher. Her presence was both symbolic and powerful – a living testament to resilience, trailblazing creativity, and the urgent need for systemic change in the publishing world.

Margaret Busby spoke candidly about the solitude that often accompanies the writing process, especially for Black creatives navigating predominantly white spaces. Yet, she reminded attendees that they are not alone; they are part of a vibrant, resilient community.

She also highlighted her organisation, GAP: Greater Access to Publishing, which actively campaigns to diversify the UK publishing industry. GAP works to address the deep-rooted issues of representation and accessibility, advocating for writers and professionals from underrepresented backgrounds to have a rightful place in shaping the literary landscape.

Margaret reminded us that at its core, publishing is about “making something public”, giving voice and visibility to stories that might otherwise remain unheard. In keeping with the theme, she urged us to remember the past, not only to honour those who paved the way, but also to avoid “reinventing the wheel.” The wisdom and struggles of previous generations are resources we must draw upon as we push for change.

Importantly, she challenged the notion of an “us vs. them” mentality within the industry. True progress, she argued, requires collaboration and understanding. “We must be both,” she said, both advocates for our own communities and active participants in the broader literary world. Only by bridging these divides can we hope to create a publishing landscape that is truly inclusive and representative.

One of the most striking comments came from an attendee, who mentioned, “History is only what your government wants you to hear.” This was a sobering call to seek out the stories that have been silenced or distorted. The question was posed to the room: Are we tired of the struggle? The answer, though unspoken, was clear in the collective energy – fatigue is real, but so is the resolve to keep pushing forward.

The conversation turned to the reality of incomplete decolonisation – how, despite progress, many of the structures and mindsets that underpin inequality remain stubbornly in place. The response to rising fascism, we heard, is evolving; activism is taking new forms, and resistance is adapting to meet the moment.

Throughout, there was an acknowledgment that Black writers and creatives have “always been disruptive,” and that simply existing and creating in these spaces is, in itself, an act of disruption. Our presence challenges the status quo, and our stories demand to be heard.

The highlight of the day was an electrifying panel discussion featuring some of the UK’s most influential Black leaders and thinkers.

• Diane Abbott MP, the first Black woman elected to Parliament, brought decades of experience in championing social justice.
• Festus Akinbusoye, Bedfordshire’s previous Police and Crime Commissioner, offered insights from his work in law enforcement and community engagement.
• Dawn Butler MP, a prominent advocate for equality and former Shadow Secretary of State for Women and Equalities, reminded us that resistance is not just protest, it is presence, storytelling, and community-building. Her words called for active, friction-filled resistance as a necessary firewall against the spread and normalisation of racism.
• Professor Gus John, a renowned academic and campaigner for racial equality, provided a historical and educational lens.
• Rounding out the panel was Lord Simon Woolley, founder of Operation Black Vote and a leading voice in political empowerment and social change.

Together, their conversation was a masterclass in resilience, advocacy, and the ongoing fight for justice.

One of the most sobering discussions centred around the recent racist marches across the UK.

Speakers pointed out that these events were not isolated incidents, but rather proof that the paranoia long felt by Black communities was not misplaced.

The marches revealed a disturbing truth: many participants were not newly radicalised, but had simply been suppressing their racism until they felt emboldened to express it publicly.

In response, the message was clear: our answer must be resistance. And resistance, by its nature, creates friction. That friction is necessary. Friction is the firewall that prevents racism from spreading unchecked, from becoming normalised.

Resistance is not just protest – it is presence, it is storytelling, it is community-building. It is the refusal to be erased or silenced.

The conference reminded us that disruption is not a flaw, it is a legacy. Black creatives have always been disruptive, and our very presence in spaces that were never built for us is a form of resistance. That disruption is powerful. It forces change. It demands accountability.

One of the most striking contradictions in recent events is how deeply multiculturalism is woven into the fabric of British life, even among those who claim to reject it.

The UK is a tapestry of cultures; our technology, our furniture, our fashion, our television, and especially our food are all shaped by global influences. From Caribbean seasoning to South Asian textiles, from African rhythms in music to Middle Eastern architecture in our cities, British culture is not singular, it is shared.

During the recent racist march, some participants were seen eating Indian food – a moment of jarring irony. They were consuming the very culture they were marching against.

This juxtaposition reveals a deeper truth: if these cultural contributions are so accepted and interwoven into everyday British life, then so should our stories be. Our narratives, our histories, our voices deserve the same space and respect.

Culture is not just what we consume, it’s what we create. And if we celebrate the food, fashion, and entertainment born from diverse communities, we must also celebrate the lived experiences and creative expressions of those communities. Anything less is hypocrisy.

The day ended not just with reflection, but with a call to action, rooted in commonality, community, and courage.

We were reminded that despite our differences, there is commonality in the human experience. That shared humanity is the foundation of solidarity. But solidarity requires action. There was a huge emphasis on community, on showing up for one another, supporting Black creatives, and building networks that protect and uplift.

We must be prepared to call out racism, even when it’s uncomfortable. Support each other. Show a little bravery when it matters. Resistance causes friction, yes, but friction is necessary to spark change.

There was also a beautiful reminder that wisdom doesn’t only come with age, it lives in youth, too. Young people are watching, learning, and leading. We must listen to them, guide them, and tap into our own purpose, writing the stories a younger version of ourselves would have needed.

This ties beautifully into the theme of Sankofa: the idea of looking back to move forward. Wisdom exists across generations. By speaking to the oldest people in our families and honouring the voices of the youngest, we create a bridge between past and future – a living archive of resilience, truth, and possibility. Because education is not just about institutions, it’s about legacy.

And above all:

• Speak up.
• Stand up.
• Support.

The fight for social justice is not a one-time victory. “Social justice doesn’t stay permanent, unless you continue to fight.” The progress we’ve made is fragile, and it’s up to each of us to defend it, nurture it, and push it further. It must be fought for every single day.