It was a balmy August morning in Lancashire , a county in North West England known for its sweeping landscapes and greenery . But back in 2014 , their idyllic community was facing an outside threat : Cuadrilla , an oil and gas giant and the only company in the United Kingdom with a license to frack , was about to commence shale gas exploration . If the hydraulic fracturing , or fracking , went ahead , then the site beneath the nanas ’ feet would soon become an industrial wasteland — and the county ’ s residents would be forced to live with the consequences , unless someone was able to stop it .
The nanas clambered over fences , quickly putting up signs and wrangling tent poles . By 6 a . m ., the first tent was up . The women sat on the ground , drinking tea and watching the sun rise above the field that would be their home for the next three weeks . Technically , they weren ’ t all grandmothers , but before long , this group of anti-fracking activists from Lancashire would be known as the Nanas , both at home and abroad . They ’ d regularly stage demonstrations , roadside tea parties , and eventually , even a protest outside Buckingham Palace .
And they wouldn ’ t be alone : In other communities being torn apart by fracking , older people around the world have also been taking the fight into their own hands , spending their golden years in protest . But what makes someone dedicate their later life to activism ? To give up the dream of pottering around the garden , pushing grandchildren on swings and enjoying long vacations and their long-awaited retirement ?
As it turns out , many of them felt they didn ’ t have a choice .