Who Was Zara?
Zara Aleena was a daughter, granddaughter, niece, cousin, friend and aspiring solicitor. But those titles only tell part of the story.
Zara was brought up by the whole of our family. She was the baby of the family, adored by all of us, and somehow she still managed to be the one organising everyone else. Birthdays, Christmas, family gatherings, presents, cards, Zara seemed to hold the threads together. If somebody's birthday was coming up, she wouldn't buy one card, she would buy enough for all of us to sign. She wanted people to feel remembered, included and cared for.
Family was everything to her. She adored her mum and her Nanni, and caring for them came as naturally to her as breathing. If something needed doing, Zara quietly got on with it. She was always busy, always helping, always thinking about someone else.
As a child, Zara was playful and full of life. She loved birds and would shriek with excitement whenever she spotted one. She loved skating, dancing, dressing up and making people laugh. Her joy was infectious. Even as an adult, she carried that sense of fun with her. She often reminded herself that she had to enjoy life too.
She was warm, funny and completely authentic. She never felt the need to impress anyone, yet she impressed people wherever she went. She was confident without arrogance and humble without ever doubting her worth.
She loved a bargain, loved crisps and chocolate, loved wrapping herself in a warm blanket, and loved spending time with the people who mattered to her.
If you shared a worry with Zara, she would rarely give you an answer straight away. Instead, she would think about it, turn it over in her mind and come back later with a solution. She was practical, persistent and resourceful. She was always looking for a way forward.
She often said that law was about "putting things right". Long before she worked in law, she stood up for friends, strangers and anyone she felt was being treated unfairly. If something wasn't fair, Zara would say so. She respected authority, but she was never afraid to challenge things when she believed they were wrong.
One of the phrases that summed her up was, "Somebody has to help."
More often than not, Zara was that somebody.
Her kindness extended beyond people. When she found a cat that had been badly beaten, frightened and defensive, she took him to the vet and then persuaded neighbours to adopt him. She volunteered her time helping others, including refugees fleeing violence. She had a habit of noticing people who were struggling and quietly finding ways to help.
Zara's love language was giving. She gave her time, her energy, her attention and her care. And when she had given, she somehow found more to give. She loved deeply and she remembered people.
If she said she was coming, she came.
If she made a promise, she kept it.
Zara grew up in Dagenham with a single mother. Nothing was handed to her. She worked hard, stayed out of debt, saved for her own home and built a future for herself.
At the age of five she announced that she was going to be a lawyer. Unlike most children, she never changed her mind.
She passed her postgraduate law examinations with distinction and was working at the Royal Courts of Justice on her path to becoming a solicitor. She believed in justice, not as an abstract idea, but because she believed people deserved fairness, dignity and protection.
Her dreams were ordinary. She wanted a family of her own. She wanted a home filled with laughter, friendship and the people she loved. She wanted to travel, make memories and build a future.
She walked everywhere.
She would often put her party shoes in a bag, pull on her trainers and walk home.
She believed in living her life freely and fully.
Zara believed that women should be able to walk home safely.
That was Zara.
Zara - a close friend's tribute
I met Zara during the first few weeks of Year 7 when we were both 11 years old. By Year 10, we were studying together, most notably GCSE Drama. Every time we got into pairs for our drama exercises, Zara and I would work together. We nearly always sat next to each other on school trips, and our friendship continued long after school ended.
Zara and I could talk for hours. We would call each other almost every day and text almost every day as well. We'd regularly meet up at the last minute, go for walks in Valentines Park, get dinner in Ilford and then head to our favourite dessert shop for waffles and ice cream.
Pre-pandemic, when I worked in central London, she'd come to my workplace after college and we'd spend the evening walking around the city, getting dinner and talking.
Zara was very ambitious and very determined. She dedicated herself to her LPC, turning down invitations and missing celebrations because she had to revise for exams. She was so excited when she passed.
"Kareece, guess what? I've passed! That's it! No more exams. I'm so happy! I'm free now! Invite me everywhere!"
When she got her job at the Royal Courts, I was so proud of her.
Zara was very good at staying in contact with people. She helped me reconnect with a mutual school friend I had lost touch with, and we've been close ever since.
Just over seven weeks before she died, we celebrated my brother's 40th birthday together. It's a memory I will cherish.
Zara was thoughtful in ways that were easy to miss if you weren't paying attention. When I told her I planned on shaving my head because of my illness, she turned up with a head wrap as a Christmas present. After my grandmother died, she had a photograph of us printed onto a mug because she knew how much I missed her.
I will always remember what a kind and gentle soul Zara was, and how thoughtful she was. I'll remember the way she was soft-spoken but still assertive. I'll remember her fearlessness and her curiosity, the way she loved to learn new things.
Many will say that Zara could "talk for England", and that's true, but she was also a great listener and a loyal friend. I'll remember how much she loved animals, especially cats. I'll remember her sense of justice and wanting to help people. I'll remember her creative sense of humour.
I'll never forget how happy she was at this point in her life.
I am grateful to have known Zara. She was one of my best friends, and I'm so grateful for those 24 years. She was like family to me.
