Grenfell Tower stands eerily quiet in this bustling West London neighbourhood, its 24-storey shell blackened by smoke and soot. Down below, faded yellow ribbons and paper hearts adorn scores of fences and trees, while half-dead flowers stand in makeshift memorials on sidewalks and in passageways. And countless photographs of those who died are still all around, and posters filled with poems and messages. One simply asks: "Why?"
It has been six months since a fire engulfed the social-housing complex, killing 71 people and leaving more than 200 families homeless.
About 1,500 people – including hundreds of survivors, Prime Minister Theresa May, the Prince of Wales and the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge – will mark the occasion on Thursday in a multifaith service at St. Paul's Cathedral. And yet the fallout from the tragedy is only beginning to take shape. A criminal investigation might lead to corporate manslaughter charges, and a public inquiry is expected to change the way high-rise towers are designed, built and protected from fire.
But many Grenfell survivors are also seething with anger about how they have been treated and why their concerns are not being addressed. Most of the 209 families left homeless are still in temporary accommodation, including hotels, and city officials have said it will take up to five years to find places for everyone.
Protesters stand with a banner and placards outside Holborn Bars before a two-day hearing as part of the inquiry into the Grenfell Tower fire on Dec. 11, 2017 in London, England.
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Grenfell has also turned into a symbol of the troubling divides in Britain over race and class. The tower was part of the Lancaster West Estate, a vast social-housing project in the borough of Kensington and Chelsea, just blocks from Kensington Palace, trendy Notting Hill and some of the most expensive properties in the world.
Most Grenfell residents were Muslim, and many came from places such as Syria, Afghanistan, Egypt and Somalia. They have felt ignored for years, as the borough council seemed preoccupied with the mansions and high-end real estate that generates most of the tax revenue. Many say the council failed to heed warnings about fire safety and opted for cheaper siding on Grenfell that investigators say helped the fire spread. Shortly after the fire, borough leader Elizabeth Campbell, the daughter of a business tycoon, acknowledged she had never been inside a tower apartment. Now those tensions are boiling over.
"People just don't trust the council," said Thomas Golla, a 22-year-old math teacher who owns a social-housing apartment in an adjacent building that was damaged by the fire. Mr. Golla and his wife bought their one-bedroom flat in 2007, and had been saving for a house. That now looks impossible.
"I don't see any future," he said. Mr. Golla is from Eritrea, and he lost many friends and neighbours in the fire. He plans to attend Thursday's service in solidarity with others in the Eritrean community who died or lost their homes.
From left to right: Grenfell Tower survivor Nicholas Burton, an unidentifed woman, Sandra Ruiz, whose niece died in the Grenfell Tower fire, and Karim Mussilhy, whose uncle died in the disaster, pose as they deliver a petition to 10 Downing Street on Dec. 12, 2017.
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Survivors have told Ms. Campbell and the rest of the Conservative-led council to stay away from the St. Paul's service, and some have vowed to confront Ms. May.
The public inquiry Ms. May set up last summer has been called woefully out of touch. It is headed by Sir Martin Moore-Bick, a white, 71-year-old retired judge who spent most of his career in commercial law. This week, the inquiry held its first public sessions, and lawyers representing many Grenfell residents called on Ms. May to replace Sir Martin and appoint a panel of community representatives to take over the inquiry or at least to provide input.
They also lashed out at Sir Martin for holding public hearings in an ornate building in central London a long way from Grenfell. And some pointed out that almost all of the 23 lawyers involved in the inquiry were white. "What must [residents] be thinking in terms of: "Are we going to get justice? Do they understand us?" said Leslie Thomas, a black lawyer who represents several Grenfell families. Sir Martin has agreed to consider alternative sites. Ms. May has rejected calls to replace him.
Even if the tensions ease, the task of finding out what happened on June 14, and ensuring it is not repeated, is daunting. The police probe will take at least another six months as nearly 200 officers comb every inch of the tower and pore over 31 million documents and more than 2,000 witness statements. The inquiry is expected to take well over a year and is made up of 424 so-called core participants, groups representing survivors, other residents, firefighters and government entities.
A public notice hangs near Grenfell Tower on Dec. 11, 2017 in London, England.
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The borough too is scrambling. Ms. Campbell has said council wants to buy 300 homes in the area for families affected by the fire, but so far only 42 households have been permanently rehoused. One council official told a group of residents this week that they "are looking at two to five years."
Ahmed Chellat is determined that answers will be found. He lives with his wife and children in a building opposite Grenfell, and lost five relatives in the fire. They stayed put, following instructions from firefighters. Mr. Chellat begged his sister-in-law to get the family out. "She said that the emergency services asked them to stay indoors, they are coming to get them. And they didn't get them," he recalled this week after watching the inquiry's first days of hearings.
"It's not easy, it's very difficult, but we are coming to terms with it. We are prepared to find out why they were killed. And we are prepared to see it not happening again."