How do you say goodbye to something that has changed your heart?
This past year has been an experience beyond anything I could have ever imagined. It began with celebration and ends with deep, shared remembrance.
I will never forget the moment on May 8th, 2025, during the 80th VE Day celebration at Elmdon Park, lighting the beacon in remembrance of the sacrifices made by so many. It was a solemn occasion, yet one that filled me with pride and gratitude. I shared a special moment with a 96-year-old veteran, and as we danced to “We’ll Meet Again,” his words — “we’ll meet again” — reminded me of the enduring bonds that transcend time and circumstance. Two days later, on May 10th, I was again deeply moved at the Knowle event. In both moments, I was reminded that, even in times of change, some connections are timeless.
But that night, the experience wasn’t just a shared moment within our crowd. It was a moment made even more powerful by the fact that it was being broadcast live. We were filmed by ITV Central, a demonstration of how Solihull’s voice was being heard far beyond our borough, shared with the wider world. At 9:30pm, as beacons were lit across the UK, the light from our own Elmdon beacon blazed into the sky — not just as a symbol of remembrance, but as a reminder that, even in the face of adversity, we are one people. To know that our community’s story was being shared with so many others, that the emotions, hopes, and histories of Solihull were reaching beyond our borders, was profoundly humbling. It wasn’t just about that one shining light. It was a beacon of all our stories, our collective spirit, and our shared journey. It reminded us that when we come together, our voices have power.
In between those bookends? Over 650 official events. Thousands of people. Countless conversations, hugs, and kisses and unexpected moments of grace. And hundreds of clinking cups of tea — or coffee, if you preferred — each sip a quiet invitation to connection, warming hands and deepening bonds.
My year began in the most unexpected of ways — with a meeting that left me in awe. I had the privilege of meeting HRH Princess Anne. Her presence was powerful and humble, and it filled me with a deep respect for the work she has done and continues to do, and I couldn’t help but feel a quiet sense of responsibility, realising that leadership isn’t just about being in the spotlight, but about being deeply connected to the issues that shape lives.
Alongside meeting such extraordinary figures, I had the privilege of spending time with brilliant college leaders — those who are shaping the future of education and empowering the next generation of thinkers and doers. I’ve engaged with CEOs, learning from their wisdom and their journeys. I’ve spoken with athletes, including rugby players, whose passion for their sport is matched only by their commitment to inspiring others. But perhaps the most poignant moments were those spent with individuals whose resilience and bravery left me deeply moved. I met Matt Gallagher, a remarkable man living with Motor Neuron Disease (MND), whose courage and positivity in the face of such a challenging diagnosis were nothing short of inspiring. I’ve also met with many people learning to live with Parkinson’s and attended conversations at the Stroke Club — every story was a reminder of the strength and determination of those who face daily challenges yet continue to live with dignity and purpose.
I’ve shared meals with our young citizens during Ramadan, breaking fast with those who have left their homes seeking sanctuary, as well as with Turkish Airlines’ team, where the conversations with ambassadors and consuls’ generals reminded me of the importance of building bridges across cultures.
I’ve wept with parents who’ve lost children, laughed with schoolkids who wanted to know if I live in a castle, and held the hands of those carrying invisible burdens. I walked with the “Men Walking and Talking” group, where strength came not from speeches but from shared silences. I walked alongside those from SOLO — Solihull Life Opportunities — where individuals with learning disabilities and differences are supported to live with purpose, confidence, and joy. To walk with them was to witness courage, humour, and an unfiltered zest for life. It reminded me that inclusion isn’t about accommodation — it’s about recognition, about celebrating every person’s place and power in our shared community.
At the Children’s COP conference, I watched young people become climate ambassadors — fierce, smart, and full of vision. They are the bearers of the choices we make today, and I’ve never felt more hopeful about our future.
I’ve celebrated centenarians to the sound of UB40, baked bread, danced bhangra, cut ribbons, posed for photos, planted seeds, and yes — planted trees, gave out awards, and picked up litter. These moments were not just about ceremony, but about being present and making a tangible difference in our community.
And amid all of this, I found unexpected joy shoulder to shoulder with my fellow “chain gang” — Mayors and civic leaders gathered not for protocol, but for unity. Over the year, we have sung many a high note with full hearts, and I reached the highest note I’ve ever managed — lifted not by pitch, but by pride. And then, together, we sang the national anthem, hand on heart, not as officials but as fellow citizens, grateful to serve.
But some of the most extraordinary moments I’ll carry with me are from the reopening of the CORE Theatre and the We Are Solihull event. The reopening of the CORE Theatre was a moment of profound joy and celebration — a symbol of the resilience and spirit of this community, alive with the potential to bring people together through art, culture, and shared experiences. And at the We Are Solihull event — a truly sold-out night that shone with energy, passion, and community spirit — I felt a deep sense of connection. The surprise guest at the event, the legendary Jasper Carrott, added a touch of humour with his funny and edgy comedy, which had the crowd laughing with his sharp wit and keen observations. The performances throughout were a powerful reminder of the talent and spirit that thrive here in Solihull. As I stood in that packed venue, I was overwhelmed by the power of the acts who performed, each one contributing their unique voice, their story, their art. In the second act, Ayan, our Poet Laureate, reminded us that “people need people.” Her words, so simple yet so profound, resonated deeply within me. It was a reminder that the strength of our community lies in the connections we make, the kindness we show, and the support we give one another.
I’ve visited ambitious businesses of all sizes, walked Mell Square on many occasions hours, and stood in the CORE Theatre where surrealist art brought strangers together in shared curiosity. At the Tattoo Festival, I watched the military’s precision, pride, and history unfold in step and rhythm — a reminder of the discipline, courage, and community that quietly underpins so much of public life.
Throughout, I’ve been guided by the wise counsel of faith leaders — their calm, grounded voices helping me navigate difficult days. To them, I owe more than I can say.
This role has never been about the chain. It’s always been about people.
The quiet ones who listen. The bold ones who dance. The grieving ones who find the courage to keep going. The children with dreams, the carers with calloused hands, the volunteers who give without ever asking anything in return.
Solihull — its places and people — has shown me that leadership is not about being above, but being among.
There were challenges, too — ones that rippled from the global stage to our local streets. Difficult national conversations found their way into our homes, our schools, and our communities. But I believe in this borough. We know who we are. And we must never allow the rhetoric of hate to divide us.
So as I step down, I don’t say goodbye with sadness — but with overwhelming gratitude. The chain may come off, but the memories, friendships, and lessons will remain with me always. As I heard in my final VE Day sermon, “Blessed are the peacemakers,” and I carry that truth with me as I move forward. This role has been one of service, one of learning, and one of love for all who make this community what it is. In the end, it is not the title that defines us, but the way we treat one another, the love we give, and the peace we help create. I am humbled by all the moments, big and small, that have shaped this journey. And as I move into the next chapter, I carry forward the deep hope that we, as a borough, will continue to walk together with kindness, courage, and compassion.
This isn’t goodbye. It’s simply au revoir.
With all my heart,
Cllr Shahin Ashraf, MBE
Mayor of Solihull
2024-2025