Soriah Barry was twenty-seven years old, brimming with talent and on the cusp of a dream. Just days remained until a pivotal meeting with Apple Music, a chance to launch her R&B songs onto a global stage. Her future, vibrant and full of promise, was tragically cut short in a London car crash.
The collision occurred after Soriah dropped off a friend, a routine act that would become the last of her life. Harrowing CCTV footage revealed her car veering onto the wrong side of the road, colliding with a double-decker bus. Witnesses described a deafening impact, “like a firework,” followed by plumes of smoke.
Investigators determined Soriah had accelerated just moments before the crash, reaching 35mph. The bus driver, Elizabeth Kalegga, initially believed the Audi was attempting to park, but the car struck the bus with devastating force, throwing her from her seat.
Bystanders rushed to help, their frantic 999 calls filled with desperation. “You need to listen to me very carefully, and get her out of the car,” a responder urged, recognizing the severity of Soriah’s condition. They worked together, lifting her from the wreckage as she drifted in and out of consciousness.
Despite the immediate efforts, and the arrival of a Helicopter Emergency Medical Service team, Soriah suffered catastrophic internal injuries. After a grueling two-hour journey through rush hour traffic, she arrived at the Royal London Hospital, where doctors fought to save her, but ultimately, she succumbed to her injuries.
Her mother, Saphiatu, paints a heartbreaking picture of a life frozen in time. Soriah’s room remains untouched, a poignant shrine to her lost potential. “The light is still on, her makeup powder is still everywhere,” she shared, a testament to the suddenness of the loss. Pictures of Soriah, radiant and smiling, adorn the walls, capturing a spirit now gone.
The inquest revealed a nitrous oxide canister was found in the car, left by others, but toxicology reports confirmed Soriah was not under the influence. The coroner concluded she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, but couldn’t determine why she lost control, stating she appeared “not sufficiently alert” in the moments leading up to the crash.
The family believes a momentary distraction may have led Soriah to mistakenly accelerate instead of brake. They also question the delays in her emergency care, citing the presence of discarded items in the car that led to unnecessary scrutiny and a frustrating wait for her mother at the hospital.
Soriah’s aunt, Malika Barry, remembers her as a complete package – talented, beautiful, and full of life. “Her life was taken in the blink of an eye,” she said, echoing the family’s profound grief. “Everything was working well for her. The music was going so well.”
The pain of her absence is immeasurable. A new niece will never know her aunt, a goddaughter feels the void of her presence, and a family is left grappling with a future forever altered. “She’s missing out on everything,” her mother laments, “We just wish she was still here.”
In a small measure of solace, Apple Music has offered to posthumously release Soriah’s music, a tribute to the artist she was and the potential she would never fully realize. Her songs, a lasting echo of a life tragically silenced, will now reach the audience she so deserved.
