I’ll Be There Today — But Probably Not Who You Think I Am

Today, 2 September, I’ll be at the protest.

I’ll be standing among the people whose families have lived with the consequences of the infected blood scandal for decades.

But you won’t know which person is me.

And that is exactly how I want it.

Over the past few weeks, something rather strange has happened.

As The Unheard Voice has grown, I’ve seen people speculating about who is behind it. There seems to be an assumption in some corners that this website must be run by a prominent campaigner, the head of a charity, somebody with political connections, or somebody who has been involved at the highest levels of the infected blood campaign for years.

It isn’t.

I am none of those things.

I am simply a member of this community.

I am someone affected by this scandal who became increasingly frustrated watching people whisper privately about things they felt unable to say publicly.

People were frightened of upsetting organisations.

Frightened of being labelled difficult.

Frightened of saying something that might somehow damage their compensation claim.

Frightened of challenging decisions.

Frightened of asking awkward questions.

And sometimes simply frightened of becoming the next person to be shouted down.

I kept seeing the same pattern.

People would say one thing privately and something very different publicly.

Not because they were dishonest.

Because they were scared.

That is why The Unheard Voice exists.

It was never created because I believed I had all the answers.

I don’t.

It wasn’t created because I wanted to lead anybody.

I don’t.

And it certainly wasn’t created because I wanted recognition.

Quite the opposite.

The anonymity is deliberate.

The stories should matter more than the person publishing them.

The questions should matter more than the name asking them.

And evidence should be capable of standing on its own without somebody having to possess a title, a charity, a large following or a seat at a government meeting before anybody takes notice.

So yes, I will be at the protest today.

I may have spoken to you before.

I may stand beside you.

We may even have a conversation.

But I won’t be announcing that I am The Unheard Voice.

Because today is not about me.

It is about the people who died.

It is about those still waiting.

It is about families fighting for recognition.

It is about people trying to navigate an extraordinarily complicated compensation scheme while carrying decades of grief, illness and trauma.

And it is about making sure those in power understand something very clearly:

Silence should never be mistaken for satisfaction.

There are people in this community who have been quiet for years who are deeply unhappy.

There are families asking serious questions about death recognition, affected people, carers, bereavement, Hepatitis B, destroyed records, delays, disparities and the treatment of deceased estates.

Those questions deserve answers regardless of who asks them.

For clarity, The Unheard Voice is independent.

It is not a charity.

It is not an official campaign organisation.

It does not speak on behalf of every infected or affected person.

And the person behind it is not some mysterious senior campaign figure operating from behind the curtain.

I’m just someone who finally thought:

Somebody needs to give people somewhere to say this.

So I did.

What started as a place for difficult questions has become something much bigger than I expected.

That tells me something important.

The appetite for honest discussion was already there.

I didn’t create it.

I simply opened the door.

If you’re there today, stand together.

Look after the person who has arrived alone.

Remember the people whose photographs are being carried because they cannot stand there themselves.

Talk to each other.

Ask questions.

And don’t ever believe that you need a title, a platform or permission from anybody else before your experience matters.

I’ll be there too.

Just another face in the crowd.

And for now, that is exactly where The Unheard Voice belongs.

If something in today’s protest — or in your own experience — leaves you with a question, a concern or simply something you feel needs to be heard, you are always welcome to join the conversation.

You do not have to be a campaign leader.

You do not have to belong to an organisation.

You do not have to have the perfect words.

Sometimes the most important thing is simply being able to say: this happened to me too.

— The Unheard Voice