The mothers of Palestine Action campaigners Zoey and Fatima Zinab have spoken out about the toll of their daughters’ imprisonment, calling it a misuse of counter-terrorism powers to silence dissent.
Fatima Zainab, just 20 years old, has spent the last nine months on remand in HMP Bronzefield. Instead of preparing to graduate with her degree in film and media studies, she’s enduring prison walls and restricted contact with her family. Her “crime” was taking part in direct action after months of peaceful protests calling for an end to genocide in Palestine went unheard.
“Where they were first arrested, they were released – then rearrested within 24 hours under the Terrorism Act,” her mother explained. “That label changed everything. It gave the state the power to throw them into solid confinement, interrogate them day and night, and deny them basic dignity.”
For Fatima, those violations were painfully personal. Her headscarf was ripped off at arrest and again for mug shots; she began sleeping in it because guards would barge into her cell without warning. “ She is visibly Muslim,” her mother said, “and she’s faced islamophobia in prison that’s damaged her mental wellbeing.”
Bail applications have been repeatedly rejected despite a clean record, strong character references, and substantial securities offered. “Holding them on remand for 15 months before trial isn’t justice,” the mothers insist.
The Filton18 case, as it’s now known, is about far more than two young women. It’s about a dangerous precedent: counter-terror laws wielded against protestors, and compromising the independence of UK legal bodies.
Yet, amid heartbreak, there is resilience. Fatima Zainab’s love of reading fuels her strength. Her mother shared her message: “You must read. Reading empowers you. It helps you see what’s right.” Fatima points others to works like Audre Lorde’s Your Silence Will Not Protect You, a reminder that fear and silence only embolden oppression.
The mothers have become activists too, building a community of love and support around their daughter’s cause. “It’s draining,” one admits. “But somehow, we find the strength.”
Strength and hope. They still believe a jury of ordinary people will see through the facade. And they keep marching, keep speaking, keep demanding justice: for Zoey, for Fatima, and for Palestine.
