The Ireland I grew up in is gone

Growing up just outside Galway City, life in the West of Ireland was exactly what the postcards promised. It was a beautiful place, with generous people and a great spirit.

I use the term was deliberately. That Galway, and the Ireland it represented, is officially dead and buried — a lot like the Irish language itself.

Liberals love to romanticize this migration by drawing parallels to Ireland’s own history of exodus.

Galway recently elected its first black mayor, Helen Ogbu, a Nigerian-born former social worker. The local and international media immediately fell into a state of rapturous, celebratory euphoria, framing it as a textbook example of a modern, inclusive Ireland, complete with a self-congratulatory pat on the back for everyone involved.

But beneath the surface-level applause and the performative