Amu Gib is fading. Detained after alleged actions at a major airforce base, his body is now locked in a desperate battle against starvation, a consequence of a hunger strike stretching beyond a month. Those close to him speak of irreversible damage, a future irrevocably altered by the choices he’s made.
Amu is not alone. He is one of eight activists currently refusing food within British prisons, a collective act of defiance born from frustration and a profound sense of injustice. All were denied bail following allegations of involvement in protests targeting an arms manufacturer and the airbase itself.
After thirty days consuming only water, the human body enters a critical state. Fat reserves are depleted, and the body begins to dismantle muscle, including the very organs essential for survival. The physical and psychological toll is immense, pushing the limits of human endurance.
Jessie, a friend of Amu’s, explains his decision to strike wasn’t about seeking attention, but reclaiming control. Stripped of agency within the prison system, it was a final, desperate attempt to voice dissent against what he perceives as a suppression of free speech and the right to protest.
Watching Amu deteriorate is agonizing, Jessie admits. “It’s terrifying,” she says, “but it’s the only thing he has left.” Prison strips away everything, she emphasizes, and these activists haven’t even faced a trial, haven’t had the opportunity to defend themselves in a court of law.
The wait for trial is excruciatingly long. Amu faces the prospect of remaining imprisoned for over a year before even having his day in court, scheduled for January 2027. This extended pre-trial detention fuels the desperation driving the hunger strike.
Jessie’s personal history casts a somber shadow over the situation. Growing up in Northern Ireland, she heard harrowing stories of the 1981 Irish hunger strike, a tragic confrontation that ended with ten prisoners starving to death. She fears a similar outcome for Amu and his fellow activists if the government doesn’t intervene.
Despite the looming fear, Jessie believes this moment is pivotal. It’s a stark test of the boundaries of dissent in Britain, a challenge to the government’s response to pro-Palestine demonstrations and its willingness to suppress opposition.
The activists’ demands are simple: bail, a fair trial, and the removal of the terrorism designation placed on Palestine Action, the group to which many belong. Their prosecution is now under international scrutiny, a case study in how the current government is handling protests related to the ongoing conflict.
Jessie poses a chilling question: “If you can’t protest against your government profiting from genocide without being imprisoned, without trial for over a year, what kind of democracy do we have left?” The hunger strike isn’t just about these eight individuals; it’s a desperate plea for the preservation of fundamental freedoms.
