By Sona Osman
On Thursday 16th March 2025, I gave a eulogy for my friend, Claudette Williams, which focused on the Brixton Black Women’s Group. The memorial was held at Brixton Library. I don’t live in England anymore and that evening as I made my way to Brixton where I had spent much of my youth, I was deep in thoughts about the past. I made notes of what I intended to say later, but in the end, I threw them away because they felt too prescriptive and deliberate. Also, I wanted to use the opportunity to give an ode not only to Claudette, but to other women who have passed away, as well as remembering the library itself.
Brixton Library
At the start of speaking, I endorsed everything friends, family and colleagues had already articulated about Claudette that evening by a hundred times. She was all that and more and I was honoured to be delivering a speech for her.
It was so apt to have the memorial in Brixton Library. When we were young, it was a home to all of us who used it as a place to revise for our O and A levels, for our degrees and post degrees. It was warm and cozy in the winter and warm in the summer. You could use the Town Hall clock as a means of measuring the time for studying each different subject. If you needed a particular book or document, the library would obtain it for you through the inter-library system. The library helped and supported you.
I used this building. I revised in the reading rooms. How many of us here tonight, remembering Claudette, lived close by and used it for our educational advancement? Years later when talking with Claudette after getting to know her, I expressed how much I loved Brixton Library and described how I used it. She expressed surprise and explained that she did the same thing. We worked out that we must have crossed by each other on the staircase or while sitting at the desks upstairs during those so important dates in 1976 when we were both revising for our exams.
For me the other benefit of the library was how it served as a means of communication to the public about community events and happenings. When I was a few years older, I remember clearly seeing an A4 Xerox notice on the notice board to the right of the main door advertising the Brixton Black Women’s Group and Black Women’s Centre on Stockwell Green.
I looked at that notice and read it many times, until one day, in 1981, I summoned up the courage to go and ring the bell at the building on Stockwell Green. On this particular day, I think it was in the afternoon, I rang the bell, and a petite woman came to the door. ‘Hello? How can I help you?’ she asked. I explained how I had read about the Centre and about the Women’s Group and wanted to find out more and see what they did. I was very interested in joining but needed to do my homework first.
‘Do you want a fag and a coffee?’ the woman asked. This was my introduction to Marlene Bogle, who managed the Centre. ‘Yes please’, I replied. I went into the building, smoked the first of many cigarettes and drank the first of many cups of coffee I was to drink in there. Do any of you remember the Sunday meetings? They started at about 1-2pm in the afternoon and went on to 4-5pm. Dorothea Smartt, another young woman new to the Black Women’s Group, and I would go to the Wimpy Bar afterwards to decipher what we had just been listening to, trying to understand the aims of the group.
Marlene
Marlene organised events and meetings, as well as the Black Women’s Group and the Latin American Women’s group which met upstairs. Marlene was the key to understanding how it all worked. She had an affectionate laughter; I loved her humour – dry, caustic with a gentle touch. The way she related to me was so understated that it made me feel comfortable. Sadly, she passed away during the first Covid lockdown. That night at Claudette’s memorial I wanted to also remember and acknowledge Marlene’s importance and impact on the Centre and on all of us who used it.
Claudette
Claudette was the group. Her personality and character optimised inclusion. She was incredibly intuitive. I believe she could see that emotionally I had the age of a seven year old caught in the body of an adult woman. She included me and encouraged me in all my endeavors. I reciprocated. We became firm friends. She was warm, funny, intuitive, emotionally intelligent, and generous to a degree that was sometimes a detriment to herself.
On that recent evening in March 2025 in the Brixton Library we came to remember Claudette and her legacy. She will always remain alive in my heart. In the library, as I focused on Claudette, I also recalled other Black women, including Marlene, who have passed away. In my heart I honour them too.
- Sona’s account of her early journey to the women’s liberation movement is in the HOWL Stories/Memories section.
- Claudette Williams obituaries by Gail Lewis and Pat East are in the HOWL Obituary section
- Speak Out! by the Brixton Black Women’s Group is published by Verso.