It is a Belfast street that Mohammed Bashir tries to avoid. Tattered red, white and blue bunting and the remnants of an Israeli flag hang from a lamp-post outside the ethnic grocery store he once managed. Across the road, Union flags fly above the Sandy Row Rangers Supporters club, a short walk from the centre of Belfast.
“I only go to this street when it’s necessary,” says Bashir, before asking for a lift to the leafy Lisburn Road a short distance away. “And I’m more cautious now about going out.”
Behind him, steel shutters cover the Sham Supermarket on Donegall Road, off Sandy Row, that he ran for three years. The shop’s charred yellow signage is the only reminder of the violent disorder that engulfed this loyalist stronghold in working-class south Belfast six months ago.
In a night of unprecedented racist attacks, rioters burned out the shop and targeted a string of other immigrant-owned businesses following a protest in the city centre earlier that day.
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Hours before “The Sham” was destroyed, Bashir was attacked by six masked men on nearby Tates Avenue. Slight in build, the Dubai-born 29-year-old escaped uninjured.
“They were young and skinny like me. They all wore black and were holding knives. I punched one on his face and ran away,” he says.
“It was the first time I was attacked in Belfast. After that, I got a call from my friend who told me that the shop had been burned. I was the closest one to it but the police and firefighters wouldn’t let me in. They stopped the fire at 3am and they let me in after that, when everything was ashes. We stayed all night.
“It was horrible. Everything was gone; there was nothing left. Literally every single thing was gone.”
The supermarket – one of the busiest on the street, with six employees – has not reopened.
On the day we meet, workers in a cafe close to Queen’s University fist-pump Bashir across the counter following the lunchtime rush. He has agreed to speak to The Irish Times amid mounting concerns about the lack of financial support given to businesses worst affected by the violence. His anger is palpable.
Leafing through a leather-bound notebook, he points to detailed notes on meetings with Belfast City Council officials and politicians.
“I want to talk about the fake promises the council gave to us … I have everything written down. We have received nothing. The only thing we got was a donation from the people of Belfast,” he says.
A sports journalist who moved to Belfast six years ago to study, Bashir worked as an interpreter for a Belfast law firm; he speaks four languages and is of “Syrian origin”. At the law firm, he befriended asylum seekers and refugees before he went on to manage the Syrian-run supermarket after it first opened in late 2021.
Loyalist paramilitaries demanded protection money of £500 (€603) to £1,000 (€1,206) per month “depending on which group it was” but Bashir refused them, leading to two arson attacks within a year.
We raised up the economy here in this area. Sandy Row was dead for 15 years. We made it alive again
— Mohammed Bashir
In the aftermath of the August riots, Belfast City Council pledged to set up a programme of financial assistance for business owners, while Stormont politicians united in their condemnation of the violence.
“The council officials referred us to a grant scheme that already exists on their website that anyone can apply to. When we received the documents we realised you needed a solicitor to go through it,” says Bashir.
“My case is special; my shop has been burned down. We wanted something very quick. We received over £30,000 from the public donation but that all went to pay off our suppliers for the stock we lost.”
At the beginning of the week it emerged that Stormont’s communities minister, the DUP’s Gordon Lyons, was planning to release a £200,000 “revitalisation scheme” grant to Belfast City Council to support Sandy Row businesses affected by loss of trade following the demolition of a nearby bridge before Christmas.
“These businesses say they lost 30 to 40 per cent footfall while our business lost 100 per cent; no one looked at us,” says Bashir. “We raised up the economy here in this area. Sandy Row was dead for 15 years. We made it alive again.”
Asked to provide figures on money distributed following last year’s riots, a Belfast City Council spokesman confirmed the local authority “agreed to establish a programme of financial assistance for those business owners impacted by racist criminal attacks in August 2024”.
By October, an update was provided on “engagement work”, with councillors agreeing that officers should “continue to engage with those affected”.
A report was then to be submitted regarding “the possibility” of providing bridging funding to support businesses impacted, “in the context of potential future finance coming from the Criminal Compensation Scheme”, said the spokesman.
“Since then, council has been exploring options for support, including providing legal support to help the businesses to access compensation funds via the Department for Justice, plus other support through the UK Government’s Community Recovery Fund, established to support communities impacted by the public disorder last summer.”
Those who lost their premises were supported in applying to a council grant scheme – which Bashir was referred to – known as the “Vacant to Vibrant” programme, which aims to bring vacant properties in the city centre back into use, the council spokesman added.
A further update report went before the council’s strategic policy and resources committee last week, he said.
However, another immigrant business owner also dismisses the council response.
“The city council asked us to apply to this existing scheme which is not designed for us as victims. I applied to it four months ago and have received nothing – it took a lot of time and effort to apply; it’s very complicated,” he says.
The man, who does not wish to be named, ran a successful business in the area for more than a decade.
Without the public donations, he says he would not have been able to survive.
“We gave up everything and it’s now over six months on. We haven’t received anything from the government or the council or even my insurance company, who said they did not cover riots,” he says.
“My business is cut off and I feel the government and council is just using us for media attention. They’ve let us down. Without the donation from the people, we couldn’t have paid our bills or looked after our families.”
Verbal racist intimidation has continued since he was targeted, the man says.
“Some people say to me: ‘Why are you still here?’. But there has also been a lot of support from the community; that has made me strong and feel part of the community regardless of what a few people are saying.”
For Bashir, it is time “to move on”.
“What am I going to do? I’m not the guy who is going to stay in my house being terrified,” he says.
“I will never judge the people of Belfast. It was a group of people who did that; however, let’s look at the positive side – a lot of people came to help and support us.
“Some people will continue their lives like me but we will also be more cautious, that’s for sure. It is frustrating and scary sometimes. But I’m my own guy, I will move on.”
