The Oxford English Dictionary defines a matriarch as “a woman who is the head of a family or tribe”. For those who knew Eileen Loughran, she was that and so much more.
Born in 1944 at the family home in Dromara, Co Down, Eileen was a war-time baby, the seventh child of Jack and Maggie Loughran. And this “little bombshell” was destined to make life quite interesting.
Eileen was one of 12 children in all, 10 of whom survived infancy. While she was close to all her siblings, her bond with her younger sister Mary was particularly special. They were not twins, but their connection was so deep that even family members often confused them.
Eileen married young and had four children: Ann Marie, Margaret, Dominic and Teresa. But by 1972, at the age of 28, she found herself a single mother with four children under the age of seven. The family moved frequently, but wherever they went, the British Army seemed to follow, subjecting their home to repeated raids.
She had her own way of handling these raids. Shortly after the door was kicked in – usually around 4am – she’d pull out her best pan and fry up bacon and whatever else was in the fridge, filling the house with the irresistible aroma of a hearty breakfast.
Her children delighted in the meal, while the young soldiers looked on, envious of what they couldn’t have.
Eventually, the family settled in Horn Drive in west Belfast, their home for nearly 50 years. The street was one of two in the Lenadoon area returned to the council after protests led by her brother, Seamus, who was the vice-chairman of Sinn Féin at the time.
Eileen could have chosen to live a quiet life, but that wasn’t in her nature. Instead, she became a revolutionary.
She co-founded Women Against Imperialism and was an active member of the Relatives Action Committee. Along with her children, she participated in marches and protests across the island and beyond.
Whether wrapped in a blanket on the doorstep of Downing Street, chanting in Armagh’s courthouse, or scolding men who crossed picket lines outside ‘the Marty’ on Sundays, Eileen felt it was her duty to stand up for women’s rights and to fight against oppression and injustice.
In 1980, tragedy struck when Eileen’s eldest daughter, Ann Marie, then 15, was shot in the head with a plastic bullet by a British soldier near their home.
On the way to the hospital, she was shot again, this time with a live round, but miraculously survived.
Eileen navigated the chaos that followed, juggling doctors, nurses, her other children and work. For the next 44 years, she and Ann Marie were inseparable, with Eileen playing a pivotal role in her daughter’s recovery and daily life.
Eileen, who died on October 1, dedicated the rest of her life to activism, charity and her family. Even when she could no longer be on the front lines, she inspired her family to continue her work.
She remains a beacon of strength, resilience, and love, and although she is no longer with us, her legacy of courage and fighting for justice will live on through all who knew her.
From a forever-grateful granddaughter: Your work here is done, but your impact will last forever.
Áine Poland