On a grey August morning, a long procession moved in the streets of Mullingar, a town in the Irish midlands, that was once scarred by starvation and displacement.

In 1847, at the height of the Great Famine, nearly 1,500 Irish tenants were forced to walk this stretch from Strokestown to Dublin. The walkers were funnelled onto “coffin ships” bound for the Americas. Many died.

Today, they are remembered as the “Missing 1,490.”

More than 175 years later, the same route in Mullingar is being retraced in solidarity for Gaza.

On August 2, members of the Boyle Palestine Solidarity Group and allies began walking the 165-kilometre Famine Way.

They carry with them a protest blanket 40 metres long.

Each crocheted square knitted in red, black, green and red, the colours of a Palestinian flag, represents ten Palestinian children killed in Gaza. They call it Craftivism for Palestine.

“We are walking this road again because we recognise other people’s suffering,” Anna Doyle, founder of the initiative, told TRT World.

“What was done to our ancestors is being done to Palestinians today: forced displacement, starvation, and overwhelming grief. This walk is an act of remembrance, resistance, and shared humanity.”

Doyle, 54, is a craft teacher and community activist who lives in rural Ireland. She is also disabled, and found her own way to protest through yarn.

“I don’t have the energy or means to travel to big marches in Dublin,” she adds. “But through this, I have a voice. I feel the pain of any mother suffering. I may not be great at embroidery, but I can crochet. It can’t be mass-produced, as each stitch represents a conscience.”

Under her leadership, a 40-metre memorial blanket was crocheted. It was made by grandmothers, cancer survivors, retired nurses, and young volunteers.

Recently displayed at the Peace Bridge in Derry, the blanket will be laid at the Dublin Famine Memorial when the walkers arrive. On August 9th, it will be laid at the Famine Memorial in Dublin’s Docklands, where 19th-century emigrants once departed in search of survival.

Doyle, who teaches crochet, upcycling and sustainability, says: “My whole life is based on craft. We were brought up in community activism.” 

Local support has been vital.

Residents of Mullingar are contributing in any way they can, by walking, by bringing supplies, by spreading the word. Each one echoes the same message: “When we stay silent, we become complicit.”

Along the route, walkers are calling for donations to the TEA Initiative, a humanitarian group delivering aid in Gaza. They are also inviting the public to join the march in any way possible: “One day, one mile, or just a few steps. Walk past us, pause, look, don’t stay silent. Even your presence means something.”

The women behind Craftivism for Palestine are not professional activists. They are grandmothers, cancer survivors, retired nurses. Their headquarters are not in institutions, but kitchens, living rooms, and local knitting clubs.

Like many Irish people, Doyle sees the struggle of Palestinians not as something distant, but deeply personal. 

“We’re Irish. We can’t stand aside while injustice happens. We know what it’s like to have our land occupied, our language erased, and our culture destroyed. Supporting Palestine is natural for us.” 

For Doyle, the trigger to act came in October 2023, when Israeli attacks on Gaza intensified and global media narratives deeply disturbed her. “The coverage sickened me,” she says.

‘I show up through yarn’

Niamh Bonner, 57, helped co-found the group alongside Doyle, which has travelled 4,050 kilometres, from Ireland to Palestine. 

“The silence of our government after October 7 shook us all,” Bonner tells TRT World.

“So, this became our answer. We wanted to give people something they could do in the face of helplessness.”

In the days following Israel’s assault on Gaza in late 2023, Bonner, a cancer survivor, was overwhelmed by the media coverage and rising death toll. She’d taken part in vigils, boycotted Israeli produce, worn a keffiyeh to school in the 1980s, but nothing felt adequate.

“I can’t join marches anymore, not physically. But through this project, I can still show up. I’m turning my powerlessness into something tangible.”

While Ireland was one of the first countries to officially recognise the State of Palestine, for many, symbolic recognition was no longer enough. Not when children were dying. Not in the face of a genocide unfolding in real time.

One night in May, Bonner suggested using leftover squares to make a larger piece. Anna Doyle replied: “Let’s make one square for every ten children.”

At the time, over 13,000 children had already been killed in Gaza. “We looked at each other and said, ‘How can we possibly make something that big?’ But we decided to try anyway.”

“Each square is individual just like each child. We are still growing the blanket because the children are still being murdered,” Doyle says.

The result is an expanding tapestry unlike any other crafted by people often made invisible by society. “

These are people who don’t get to attend marches,” Bonner says. “Elderly women, disabled people, the ill. But they’re politically aware. And they wanted to act.”

Their method is intentionally chaotic.

“We don’t plan the patterns in advance,” Bonner adds. “We toss the squares onto a table and see which colours work together. Most are stitched with white to symbolise peace and freedom.”

The symbolism matters.

Crochet, as Bonner points out, cannot be made by machine. She draws the historical parallel: “Crochet was how poor Irish families survived. Fishermen made nets. Women made lace. It was a way to resist hunger. Today, it’s a way to resist silence.”

Bonner views the blanket not only as a memorial, but as a living archive.

“When you say 10,000 children, people hear it as just a number. But when you show them 2,000 handmade squares, each one representing ten lives, it becomes real.”

Bonner estimates around 70 to 100 people have contributed so far. Squares have come from across Ireland—Dublin, Cork, Mayo—and from abroad: Pakistan, Iceland, Canada, Greece, Venezuela, and Germany.

A woman in Finland was inspired to launch a similar initiative in her town. The movement has spread by word of mouth, knitting needles, and WhatsApp and Facebook groups.

Bonner encourages others to start small. As squares continue to arrive, Bonner knows the work is far from over. “We’ll keep going until Palestine is free,” she says.

23,000 squares and growing

Noreen Holland, a retired palliative care nurse, joined the initiative in late 2023.

“I suppose I was looking for something new,” she says TRT World. “Then I was invited to help their group, who were busily stitching together the hundreds of granny squares that had been sent to Niamh and Anna from all over Ireland, and even beyond.”

She’d marched before, signed petitions, made donations. But nothing had felt as purposeful. “Joining Craftivism for Palestine needed no discernment; I was hooked immediately.”

She speaks with clarity.

“UNICEF states that at least 55,000 children have been murdered or maimed in Palestine. Our goal for the blanket was initially 18,000 squares. But the squares kept coming, and we kept adding. At 23,000, we took it on the road.”

Holland finds the violence in Gaza especially unbearable.

“Personally, I’m appalled by what is happening in Palestine. I find it unfathomable that such atrocities can be allowed to continue in the so-called civilised world we live in today.”

But she doesn’t give up on hope. “I believe that conflict contaminates and that love is the most powerful vibration. Without love, battles are lost.”

History of ‘protest knitting’

Mary Smyth, 81, says she joined because of “an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. It felt like no one could make a difference. So, we thought, maybe our small effort could.”

“When I sit with the yarn and really think, this little square the size of my hand represents ten children, it’s overwhelming. These were children who once ran and jumped and played. Now some have no one left to remember them. But the blanket remembers,” Smyth tells TRT World.

She’s no stranger to protest knitting.

A decade ago, she helped create a blanket to demand inquests into maternal deaths in Ireland. “I already knew how meaningful that act could be.”

Mary McEvoy, 69, from Finglas, had never joined a protest before. She was introduced to Craftivism for Palestine by two sisters at her knitting club. “They said one Granny Square represented ten children killed. I thought, what a beautiful, heartbreaking gesture. I wanted to be part of it.”

She adds, “When I sit with the yarn and really think, this little square the size of my hand represents ten children, it’s overwhelming. These were children who once ran and jumped and played. Now some have no one left to remember them. But the blanket remembers.”

On 23 July, the protest blanket was presented at the Palestinian Embassy in Dublin. Ambassador Dr Wahba Abdalmajid called it a privilege to meet the women.

A week later, it crossed the Peace Bridge in Derry, linking Catholic and Protestant neighbourhoods.

“The unity on the bridge was electric. The wind tried to carry us away, but it also carried our voices and our love, we hope, all the way to Palestine,” McEvoy tells TRT World.

In time, the blanket will not remain whole. The plan is to divide it into 100-square sections and raffle them, sending pieces into homes and communities across Ireland. “Yes, it’s a memorial,” Bonner says. “But it’s also an archive of care. Each person who takes home a piece will carry that story with them.”

Even as the project grows, its message remains the same.

“We wanted to give people a way to act when they felt utterly powerless,” Bonner says. “And now look how far it’s travelled.”

Doyle adds, “Craftivism means taking the frustration we feel and turning it into something tangible. It’s art that demands justice. It’s an action that speaks without shouting. And nothing will stop us.”