Dear Angela,

I keep thinking about the water under the pebbles, the channels they make to get to the sea. And Dina, I am thinking about Dina who said that she is writing letters and wants no apologies from her correspondents about letters being late – because that is not the point.

And so I was inspired to write a letter to you to say what an extraordinary experience it was to talk of… narratives and counternarratives.

Forgive me what I’ve forgotten. It may never be recovered. You told us about a report, a report hidden in plain view that tells of the likelihood of droughts here in the UK (a reality today) – a warning no one will heed – the narrative that water will be scarce and it will be our fault – all our fault – citizens, people, communities – they call us consumers, not people.

Um told us about a place where droughts reveal paths – the people will follow the spaces left by the water suspended elsewhere – will walk in the troughs of the dry riverbeds and streams… the best route to where they need to go.

I am sorry we have lost our inclination to travel by water, water does nothing but travel. And the grooves they make in the rocks and the sand, thin rippling streams congregate into something bigger that I can comprehend from the shore.

What does it mean to grieve so many lost futures? The dominant narrative is doom. Doom, doom, doom. How do we counter it – how can our vibrating, underground, under-pebble, under-sand, under-earth streams of consciousness and care undo the doom?

It remains radical to have hope for better days – at least in my own heart. I don’t know what to hope for – that love will conquer all? That we can look in one another’s eye with tenderness – that the paths of our tears will channel themselves together to some body of water and we’ll find ourselves ankle deep.

If it is true that we will experience water scarcity – and we see it happening now in Wales, then how can we remodel our lives and loves?

Reflections on water reflect back, and unless it is still water, the reflects of light fragment – choppy water a knife.

What will this place become if the water level rises? How high will the waves go? And here at Cold Knap Beach, how will the pebbles change, how will they choose to settle?

The story of water is a story of settlement. Villages and tribes that became towns and empires lived close to water – so what will it mean when they become less visible – when blue and green spaces are lost for seasons at a time? What sounds and settlements shall be lost? What sounds shall be found?

Yours with love,

Jannat

Water, land and borders
- a response from Jannat Ahmed

In May 2022, Angela YT Chan hosted a walk and talk which explored the shoreline as a site to consider colonial climate histories and presents, and the connected struggles of displacement and migration in a world of border building.

We invited Jannat Ahmed - Barry based writer, co-founder and editor-in-chief at Lucent Dreaming - to join this walk and write a response to the conversations shared. Jannat has written a letter to Angela, read the transcript below: