Firdaws Grenfell Memorial

Our tribute to The Hashim Family whom we knew and loved. We miss you.

The Hashim Family

In the catastrophic fire that engulfed the Grenfell Tower in June 2017, Solidarity Sports tragically lost three of our children and their parents – known as the Hashim family – among the many others who senselessly died that day.

In a bid to bring something good from the tragedy, Solidarity Sports launched The Hashim Family Legacy, helping to make children’s dreams come true. Firdaws, aged 12, dreamed of visiting Disneyland, and will now never have the chance, so in October 2017 we arranged our first trip as part of this project, visiting Disneyland Paris in her honour.
We will never give up on our children, not even Firdaws.

If you would like to donate to the Hashim Family Legacy, your gift will help other children to see their dreams come true.

Donate to the Hashim Family Legacy →


Intelligent, wise and eloquent beyond her years, Firdaws also had an amazing singing voice. Everyone she knew agreed that she had a bright future in front of her – her creativity and talent were boundless. She was such a voracious reader that her father used to joke that “I will go bankrupt if I keep on buying books for her at the same pace as she finishes reading them.”

Firdaws was only 12 years old when she died at Grenfell Tower. She was, and remains, a bright star to us. Her death has cast a long shadow, but has inspired us to push ourselves further and share her optimism and excitement with others through The Hashim Family Legacy.


Yahya was a comedian, going to any lengths to make everybody laugh, because he loved to laugh so much himself. He was a consummate gentleman: kind, polite, generous and thankful. And, he was loving, always making sure those around him were okay – but he loved nobody more than his two parents.

A budding foodie, Yahya thought almost everything was “Ahh, delicious!” (other than egg). He found ways to make even small interactions, like tasting food, charming ones. A family friend remembers fondly Yahya’s tendency to apologise for everything, “‘Sorry’ had to be the word he used most in his unfairly short lifetime,” she remembers.

He was 13 years old.


The youngest of the family, little Yaqub turned six less than a month before the Grenfell Tower catastrophe. But, he already had so much to offer those around him: an endless and infectious energy and enthusiasm that could fill a room, Yaqub loving to tell jokes and dance. “Even before you could walk,” remembers a friend, “you would crawl around on the floor so fast that we could barely keep up.”

Yaqub had the chance to visit Norway the winter before he died, never letting the freezing cold ruin his fun playing in the snow.

For his birthday, Yaqub was so surprised to realise that others knew it was his birthday, too.


‘Nura could befriend absolutely anyone – no matter who they were or what they believed in. This was made evident by the number of different people who were desperately trying to find her and her family during the early days of the fire. We received so many compassionate hugs on her behalf. And people still come to me in meetings and tell me what a wonderful mother she was.

‘I remember how you were telling me that you all missed us and wanted to see us during the summer time. I am so deeply sorry that I didn’t manage to come up with a specific plan as to where and when we could all meet up. What I wouldn’t give for doing that now?

‘I am so terribly sorry that you had to see the pain and suffering of your kids and your husband. I am so sorry that we couldn’t share your suffering, your helplessness, your confusion, your pain and your fear.’ – Assema

‘You did a great job taking care of your family. You cared about us, you cared about everyone around you; and you had no problem in showing your love. You used to tell us to do the right thing for our own sake. I love you so much auntie, I love you.’ – Eliza


‘Hashim was our dearest, smartest, soft-hearted and generous brother and uncle; and my best friend. He was one year ahead of me in school and everybody used to know him since he was very smart and sociable. I used to be known not as me, but as ‘Hashim’s sister’, a sister of the smartest boy in our school. He had an almost ‘irritating’ loud voice and he used to love to laugh; he had the widest smile a person could have. He was generous; he loved to share whatever he had with others without thinking a lot about tomorrow. He was a favourite uncle to my daughters….’ – Assema

‘I can’t even begin to list all the things that made you the best uncle, brother, father or friend one could possibly ask for. You were intelligent, smart, hardworking, hilarious, and caring. You were always there for everyone and anyone who needed help. You were different than all the other adult figures in my life. You let me share my thoughts with you and you made me feel like my opinions mattered. (And as the opinionated person I am, I’ve always appreciated that.) One moment we would have long and serious discussions, and the next one would be filled with nothing but jokes and laughter. I made fun of you and you made fun of me, that was the essence of our relationship.

‘Yahya, Firdaws and Yaqub were the most incredible children, and they’re proof of what an amazing father you were. Thank you so much for being there for my mum, my sister, our entire family and me. You made us all better people. I’ve learnt so much from you, and I’ll carry that with me forever. I will continue to be inspired by your hard work, your kindness and the way that you lived your life.’ – Hanan