The streets of Belfast were transformed into a scene of chaos overnight as residents abandoned their homes to escape fires that swept through neighbourhoods. The Police Service of Northern Ireland has issued an urgent plea for calm, but the images from the night tell a story of fear and displacement that will linger long after the flames are extinguished.
It is easy to focus on the political tensions that have long simmered here, but what struck me, standing on the rain-slicked streets this morning, was the human cost. Families clutching children and pets, neighbours helping the elderly to safety; these are not statistics but lives upended. The smell of smoke still hangs in the air, a bitter reminder that for many, home is no longer a sanctuary.
Social psychology tells us that unrest often preys on existing fault lines. Here, the divisions are not new but the violence feels freshly raw. One woman told me she had lived in her home for thirty years and never thought she would see such fear in her own street. The younger generation, who have grown up in a relatively peaceful era, now face a harsh education in community fracture.
Class dynamics also play their part. The areas most affected are often those with fewer resources, where families cannot simply decamp to a hotel or rely on distant relatives. The emergency services have worked heroically but they are stretched thin.
As the sun rises over a city trying to regain its composure, the question remains: what comes next? The PSNI calls for calm but calm is built on trust, and trust is what burns fastest in the night. For now, Belfast holds its breath, waiting to see if the daylight brings repair or more tears.
