The invaluable lessons Britain must learn from the Hong Kong's 2019 pro-democracy protests

Youth in Flames is a new solo show coming to the Edinburgh Fringe this August. It captures the heart of the 2019 Hong Kong protest movement through the eyes of Millie, a cheeky (sometimes bratty) British expat who gets pulled into the political upheaval by local Hong Konger Jesse. It’s a play about trying to find a sense of belonging in a rapidly changing world, and the cost of ignorance when our attention is needed most.

Youth in Flames didn’t begin as a one-woman play. A year ago, I didn’t even imagine performing in it myself. It started as more of a novella piece, a way to preserve my memories of Hong Kong and reflect on how the city had changed since the protests. The drastic political shift, and what it meant for a place that had once been seen as a democratic city.

In April 2019, chief executive Carrie Lam proposed an extradition bill that would allow for criminal suspects from Hong Kong to be extradited to mainland China under certain circumstances. Hong Kong’s reaction was immediate. The public feared that the bill would increase Beijing’s influence over Hong Kong, silencing activists, targeting journalists and eventually eroding the city’s autonomy.

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What began as peaceful marches quickly escalated into chaos. Clashes between police and demonstrators grew more violent. Tear gas became a near-daily occurrence. Protesters were rebranded as “rioters”, a label designed to delegitimise the democratic demands at the heart of the movement. Calls for greater freedoms were reframed as threats to national security.

I watched, like many others, as the city transformed overnight. One moment, I was walking to my part-time job; the next, I was barricaded inside an office building, trying to avoid clouds of tear gas flooding the streets. That atmosphere – the fear, intensity and courage – is what I wanted to capture on stage. I wanted audiences to feel what it was like to be there, to witness that sense of urgency.

Since moving back to England, people ask, “What was Hong Kong like?” Or, “I remember seeing the protests on the news – has the city changed?” As much as I enjoy talking about Hong Kong, I know my words can’t fully capture the city’s complexity. With protests erupting across the world today, I felt an urgency to tell Hong Kong’s story now. Theatre offered the most immediate way to do that. I wrote this play to serve as a reminder of what can happen when a democratic society faces national suppression. That reality feels increasingly relevant globally.

Though I’m not a local Hong Konger, I felt a responsibility to continue the conversation. For many, speaking up risks censorship or worse. Watching the bravery of young Hong Kong demonstrators fighting for their democratic rights changed how I understood protest and resistance – no longer just rebellious acts, but acts of responsibility, especially when others can no longer speak for themselves.

I constantly questioned whether this was my story to tell. But the perspective of a foreigner witnessing a country in political crisis is rarely explored. I’ve only ever wanted to write about the truth, so why not write about the common attitudes seen by the expat community who resided there. But that forced me to reflect on my own position as an expat – the privilege of being able to leave, to disengage, to not have my identity under threat. That ability to disengage is a form of safety many do not have. For many others, you’re forced to respond. When it’s your identity, your city, your future being stripped away, you don’t get to check out. In writing Youth in Flames, I made deliberate choices: to only write what I had personally witnessed, and to remain mindful that while I have the freedom to speak, I’m also sharing a narrative on behalf of those who can’t.

When art amplifies political or social movements, it must foreground the people behind them. Storytelling keeps suppressed narratives alive, offering truth where speech has been silenced. For many artists in Hong Kong, it is difficult for them to approach subjects such as the protests without their work being censored or banned. Navigating these creative limitations is a skill in itself. Theatre must keep pushing boundaries.

Youth in Flames is an invitation: to remember Hong Kong, reflect on the protests happening around us, and stay vigilant about how protest and dissent are being redefined. It isn’t an answer – it’s the beginning of a conversation.

Young people have always been at the forefront of change. Youth in Flames reveals not only the courage and determination of Hong Kong’s youth but also the price they pay for refusing to stay silent. While some dismissed their actions as naïve or misguided, the reality was more complex: many in the older generation chose silence or inaction. The burden of resistance fell on young shoulders, often leading to hospitalisations and arrests. Behind every protest, every act of defiance, are people fighting for a future they believe in. Resistance isn’t reckless – it’s necessary.

I know I can’t capture every detail of Hong Kong’s political journey. But I hope to provide a window that encourages audiences to learn more, to seek out what’s happening, and who they can support. Hopefully, it can also act as a vessel for reflection. The ability to disengage from politics, to not have your identity directly under threat, is a privilege. Remaining silent may be easier or safer, but speaking up shows true courage.

Mimi Martin will be performing Youth in Flames at Zoo Playground in Edinburgh until 24 August. Tickets available here.

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