When I heard that a beach hut owner in Hove had chosen to paint her hut in the colours of my home county's flag—and that she was being asked to remove it—I felt something stir deeply in me. This wasn’t just about paint. It was about identity, history, and the quiet courage to be seen.

She bought that hut with her own hard-earned money. It was hers. And she used it to express something that mattered to her—and to many of us. So when the chance came to help her repaint it, I didn’t hesitate. I showed up with a plat of Hummus in hand and a heart full of emotion.

What the council—and others—might not realise is that those colours are not just stripes. They are stories.

Black represents mourning and sorrow over generations of injustice. It’s the silence over the laughter of children that has been stifled for far too long.

White is for peace and love—a reminder of peaceful messages and a longing for hearts unclouded by hate.

Green speaks to hope, renewal, and the dream that our barren land may once again flourish.

Red lives in defense of family, land, and dignity.

Each colour is a reflection of lived reality. Of loss. Of strength. Of faith in a better tomorrow.

Helping repaint that hut was one of the most emotional things I’ve done. With each brushstroke, we weren’t just covering wood—we were holding space for something sacred. A home. A memory. A people.

That beach hut was never meant to divide. It was a quiet form of expression. A personal symbol of pride, resilience, and longing for peace.

I only wish more people could see it that way.