Zubaida and the children left their home to discover a new religious refuge
Her husband would catch up with her later, he had to do what men do Continue reading
I’ve spent my whole life idolising people who don’t look like me, from Britney to Beyoncé. And hey, who wouldn’t? They’re beautiful, successful women. But as I grew older, so did my craving to see successful – in every sense of the word – women who looked like me; representation matters and all that. And as unbelievable as it may sound to some, where I was brought up, I hardly knew women who looked like me existed.
In no particular order…
My Father was a hipster
His Father was a prisoner of war
Both of my Grandmothers believed in God
You say you notice everything about me
You laugh and say I walk like I’m ice skating
Feet bounding ahead in a circular motion
As if that makes it easier to keep moving forward
Note: I wrote this in like, 2015 – before Boxpark Croydon opened, before Yates closed down, when things were different. I’ve made a couple of little updates, but please forgive any statements found that are no longer true today.
I wrote this after the 12,000,000th person gave me the same reaction I’ve received for years when I say I live in Croydon; a mesh of pity, amusement and misconceptions. But Croydon will be different one day. No really, it will. Prior to the gentrification of areas now home to Westfield, people south of the river would come to Croydon to shop in the Whitgift. Sounds daft now, and there wasn’t even a Primark at the time, but it was true.
Fast forward perhaps just over a decade and things have changed – Croydon got severely left behind somewhere between the focus of progression on other areas in London and the riots. Continue reading
I have a theory
That every blue moon, gold spills off my tongue
Unravelling out of my mouth like a seed in bloom
After a long winter of nothingness
It scares people