Meet Hassan Akkad, The Refugee Turned Hospital Cleaner In Vogue’s Key Worker Portfolio
BRITISH VOGUE
JULY 2020 ISSUE
© Jamie Hawkesworth
BY GILES HATTERSLEY 4 JUNE 2020
The Syrian refugee and BAFTA-winning filmmaker signed up as an NHS hospital cleaner before taking on the government over migrants’ rights. As he appears in the July issue, photographed by Jamie Hawkesworth, Giles Hattersley meets the man who became a lightning rod for change.
“My friends are calling me the Greta Thunberg of Covid-19,” says Hassan Akkad wryly, followed by a warm and self-effacing laugh. It is mid-afternoon in early June, and the filmmaker-turned-hospital cleaner is having a quick break in the car park at Whipps Cross Hospital in east London during a 10-hour shift. Breaks are welcome. The work is tough and the PPE hard to wear, especially now it’s getting warmer. All this is before you factor in the reality of working on a coronavirus ward for the past two months in a borough that has been hit hard.
Meet The 3 Essential Workers On The Cover
BY OLIVIA MARKS
His friends may have been teasing him about the Thunberg thing, but like every decent gag, there’s more than a dash of truth (though, to be honest, Akkad’s life has been far more dramatic than the young environmentalist’s). His mind-boggling backstory has taken him from life as a teacher and TV production professional in Damascus, to being arrested, tortured and eventually having to flee, embarking on a 3,000-mile, 87-day odyssey across the Middle East and Europe to seek asylum in the UK. Having documented his trip to BAFTA and Emmy award-winning effect, when the pandemic hit he answered the NHS’s call for support staff by signing up as a cleaner for his local hospital trust – and became an accidental lightning rod for change.
First came an arresting Twitter post, an impactful mirror selfie showing the 32 year old in the extreme protective gear required for his new job. Then, on 20 May, a sucker punch video, in which he directly addressed the prime minister over the revelation that NHS cleaners, porters and social care workers not born in the UK would not be entitled to have their families remain here should they become infected with, and die from, coronavirus.
Edward Enninful On The Everyday Heroes That Inspired The July Cover Story
“I genuinely felt as if I got some bad news from my family,” he says of reading the news reports on his way to work that day. “I was so hurt. I spend every day with these guys,” he explains of his fellow cleaners. “Ninety-nine per cent are not UK or European born. They’re all migrants and are bottom of the pyramid when it comes to payment. Some of my colleagues had picked up on the news and everyone was hurt. Imagine working on a Covid-19 ward and discovering the government has excluded you from protection?"
“I was livid,” he continues. “I put my PPE and my uniform on and was cleaning, but the whole time I was so distracted by it. Eventually I was like, ‘You know what: fuck it’’’, he says, a non-characteristic tone of fury entering his voice. “I went on break, went to my car, switched the camera on and started recording.” He says it took him two goes to get it right, his voice breaking as he uttered the words, “stabbed in the back.” After signing off with a simple, “I hope to hear back from you”, he posted the video and went back to work. “It was all I could do,” he says.
The July Issue Is Dedicated To The New Front Line
BY EDWARD ENNINFUL
Then something extraordinary happened. Within hours of the “Hi Boris…” video going live to Akkad’s 9,000 Twitter followers (he has 35,000 now), more than five million people had viewed his plea for justice thanks to multiple retweets. Within four hours of it going live, the government performed a dramatic U-turn. Having caught the mood of the country, Akkad was dubbed a hero. He was splashed across front pages and even went for an “emotional chat” (as described in the Metro) with Piers Morgan on Good Morning Britain. “When you have the Guardian and the Daily Mail both writing a good article about you, it means you hit the right nerve,” he says, the wry smile returning.
Narguis Horsford, a London Overground train driver, appears on the July 2020 cover of British Vogue, fronting an issue dedicated to essential workers.
© Jamie Hawkesworth
He is quick, though, to brush off praise. “I have a privilege. My privilege is that I have a Twitter account and I speak English. I have to use my privilege to speak out.” In fact, he found his victory a more complicated experience that the result would suggest. “There was a mix of emotions. I felt so happy that I had looked after my colleagues, that I platformed their voices and opinions. But also I was upset because…” He pauses. “What if I didn’t do it? Shouldn’t the government be considerate enough to do this without me speaking out?” He lets the thought hang in the air.
Jamie Hawkesworth On The “Joyous” Task Of Capturing The New Front-Line For The July Issue
BY ELLIE PITHERS
Akkad features in the July issue of Vogue, photographed by Jamie Hawkesworth in the hazy sun of an April afternoon spent outside the hospital. He joins a 20-page portfolio spotlighting essential workers across many professions who have brought hope and fortitude to a crisis. On top of his advocacy – to say nothing of his cleaning – he has been documenting his colleagues at Whipps Cross, too, taking captivating portraits which he hopes to exhibit some day. There is also talk of a memoir (Covid will only warrant a chapter of it) and there will be more film projects once the pandemic eases.
For now, he is committed to Whipps Cross, at least until the death rate fully ebbs. He has no illusions about when that might be. It is the first day of eased
The Syrian refugee and BAFTA-winning filmmaker signed up as an NHS hospital cleaner before taking on the government over migrants’ rights. As he appears in the July issue, photographed by Jamie Hawkesworth, Giles Hattersley meets the man who became a lightning rod for change.
“My friends are calling me the Greta Thunberg of Covid-19,” says Hassan Akkad wryly, followed by a warm and self-effacing laugh. It is mid-afternoon in early June, and the filmmaker-turned-hospital cleaner is having a quick break in the car park at Whipps Cross Hospital in east London during a 10-hour shift. Breaks are welcome. The work is tough and the PPE hard to wear, especially now it’s getting warmer. All this is before you factor in the reality of working on a coronavirus ward for the past two months in a borough that has been hit hard.
Meet The 3 Essential Workers On The Cover
BY OLIVIA MARKS
His friends may have been teasing him about the Thunberg thing, but like every decent gag, there’s more than a dash of truth (though, to be honest, Akkad’s life has been far more dramatic than the young environmentalist’s). His mind-boggling backstory has taken him from life as a teacher and TV production professional in Damascus, to being arrested, tortured and eventually having to flee, embarking on a 3,000-mile, 87-day odyssey across the Middle East and Europe to seek asylum in the UK. Having documented his trip to BAFTA and Emmy award-winning effect, when the pandemic hit he answered the NHS’s call for support staff by signing up as a cleaner for his local hospital trust – and became an accidental lightning rod for change.
First came an arresting Twitter post, an impactful mirror selfie showing the 32 year old in the extreme protective gear required for his new job. Then, on 20 May, a sucker punch video, in which he directly addressed the prime minister over the revelation that NHS cleaners, porters and social care workers not born in the UK would not be entitled to have their families remain here should they become infected with, and die from, coronavirus.
Edward Enninful On The Everyday Heroes That Inspired The July Cover Story
“I genuinely felt as if I got some bad news from my family,” he says of reading the news reports on his way to work that day. “I was so hurt. I spend every day with these guys,” he explains of his fellow cleaners. “Ninety-nine per cent are not UK or European born. They’re all migrants and are bottom of the pyramid when it comes to payment. Some of my colleagues had picked up on the news and everyone was hurt. Imagine working on a Covid-19 ward and discovering the government has excluded you from protection?"
“I was livid,” he continues. “I put my PPE and my uniform on and was cleaning, but the whole time I was so distracted by it. Eventually I was like, ‘You know what: fuck it’’’, he says, a non-characteristic tone of fury entering his voice. “I went on break, went to my car, switched the camera on and started recording.” He says it took him two goes to get it right, his voice breaking as he uttered the words, “stabbed in the back.” After signing off with a simple, “I hope to hear back from you”, he posted the video and went back to work. “It was all I could do,” he says.
The July Issue Is Dedicated To The New Front Line
BY EDWARD ENNINFUL
Then something extraordinary happened. Within hours of the “Hi Boris…” video going live to Akkad’s 9,000 Twitter followers (he has 35,000 now), more than five million people had viewed his plea for justice thanks to multiple retweets. Within four hours of it going live, the government performed a dramatic U-turn. Having caught the mood of the country, Akkad was dubbed a hero. He was splashed across front pages and even went for an “emotional chat” (as described in the Metro) with Piers Morgan on Good Morning Britain. “When you have the Guardian and the Daily Mail both writing a good article about you, it means you hit the right nerve,” he says, the wry smile returning.
Narguis Horsford, a London Overground train driver, appears on the July 2020 cover of British Vogue, fronting an issue dedicated to essential workers.
© Jamie Hawkesworth
He is quick, though, to brush off praise. “I have a privilege. My privilege is that I have a Twitter account and I speak English. I have to use my privilege to speak out.” In fact, he found his victory a more complicated experience that the result would suggest. “There was a mix of emotions. I felt so happy that I had looked after my colleagues, that I platformed their voices and opinions. But also I was upset because…” He pauses. “What if I didn’t do it? Shouldn’t the government be considerate enough to do this without me speaking out?” He lets the thought hang in the air.
Jamie Hawkesworth On The “Joyous” Task Of Capturing The New Front-Line For The July Issue
BY ELLIE PITHERS
Akkad features in the July issue of Vogue, photographed by Jamie Hawkesworth in the hazy sun of an April afternoon spent outside the hospital. He joins a 20-page portfolio spotlighting essential workers across many professions who have brought hope and fortitude to a crisis. On top of his advocacy – to say nothing of his cleaning – he has been documenting his colleagues at Whipps Cross, too, taking captivating portraits which he hopes to exhibit some day. There is also talk of a memoir (Covid will only warrant a chapter of it) and there will be more film projects once the pandemic eases.
For now, he is committed to Whipps Cross, at least until the death rate fully ebbs. He has no illusions about when that might be. It is the first day of eased
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