The Grenfell story is far from over

During a significant period of my childhood, I grew up in a high-rise social housing block in London.

More than just bricks and concrete corridors, it was home. Some neighbours felt like family, and the sense of community often strong, even when relations with the council was not. Our estate had issues, but many of us looked out for one another. Serious safety concerns often went unaddressed, yet I still felt some sense of comfort – because that’s what home should be. For my family though, realising our safety wasn’t a priority to some always left a mark, even after we moved.

When Grenfell happened, it wasn’t a distant tragedy. It felt somewhat personal. The community, the stories all felt familiar. I knew one of the victims: a talented artist who perished in the fire alongside her mother. She was breaking barriers in the arts world and inspiring others. Her loss was profound, and exemplary of the many promising lives unjustly taken.

72 people died, and hundreds if not thousands more impacted. The scale of loss is unlike any fire in this country since the Second World War, with a painful realisation of just how avoidable it was. Grenfell was preventable, and there were warning signs.  

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Creating this film was more than a job, it was a responsibility. Through the filmmaking journey, I came to understand even more deeply how the Grenfell tragedy speaks to shared human vulnerabilities – there is a universality to the story. Over time, the learnings became more shocking, but were a stark reminder to us all how many authoritative decisions, and actions (or inactions) that take place out of public view may one day impact us, how much trust we place in authorities and institutions that are there to serve us, and how very possible it is for that trust to be broken, and to find ourselves in a position of making life-changing decisions as a result of the conduct of others. 

The production was challenging. Listening to survivors, the bereaved, firefighters and those who fought for change was emotionally difficult but essential, and encouraged reflection. These were accounts of neglect, pain and resilience. Many had so much taken from them – homes, loved ones, cherished belongings, pride, trust, safety – yet still must fight to be heard. Some had told their stories before while others had stayed silent for years. We sat down with them on their terms, offering a safe space.

From those conversations came devastation, but also clarity and strength: parents describing the smoke that took their children, the unimaginable heat that consumed that building, the fire service’s complex response efforts, teenagers still traumatised, and residents who made it out only to carry palpable survivor’s guilt. What was clear to me – and why it was vital to give bereaved and survivors a voice – was the undeniable dignity from those who, despite many years passed, do not want us as a nation to forget or stop talking about Grenfell. With no arrests made and criminal charges still to be considered, the story isn’t over. 

My aim wasn’t to create “another sad documentary“; something many of the Grenfell community expressed to us felt “done”, but to balance the trauma and pursuit of justice with a bold forensic examination of systemic failures that preceded the fire, and to spotlight the structures that allegedly allowed profit and inflexibility to obstruct safety.

Lived experiences and expert accounts enabled us to delve into the innumerable warnings ignored. Residents labelled as “rebels” for voicing concerns, highly flammable materials used despite awareness of its risks, the unpreparedness of the emergency response and the rigidity of our government despite forewarnings. This film explores a narrative of institutional failure with high human cost as a result, and these are amongst many reasons why Grenfell weighs so heavily on our national conscience. 

Beyond the facts, figures and revelations, this documentary is about people and homes lost. It’s about communities that, despite being overlooked, continue to fight for justice nearly eight years on. Their suffering but unwavering demand for accountability was acutely felt making this film. I hope the film shows audiences that grief isn’t a closed chapter, and that justice isn’t just about convictions – which is what many of the survivors and bereaved want; but it’s also about accountability and pushing for change. Grenfell exposed deep systemic issues that require more than acknowledgement, it’s about action.

Through making Grenfell: Uncovered, we sought to honour those lost, amplify those left behind, and to challenge viewers to confront uncomfortable truths and reflect. This isn’t just about a devastating fire, it’s about the society and system that allowed it to happen. And it must never happen again.

Olaide Sadiq is director of Grenfell: Uncovered, available now on Netflix.

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