Photo I took on a spring day.

Well I figured if I’m going to continue writing I will need to eventually give a little introduction about myself.

Like I said previously I come from an African immigrant family and I came to England in 2000 at the age of 10 so if you are good at maths you will know I am 18.

I was the kid who changed what they wanted to be everyday, from a policeman to a scientist. The over dramatic one and the tom boy.

Back home in Africa I had a much better life than what the media likes to portray. I was actually very privileged and sometimes would take things for granted. I thought it was normal for a family to have 5 televisions in their house (yeah i know).

So I have been through a time of wealth, but my parents were never extravagant and they never wasted a penny, my dad is the greatest business man I know and my mother built up a business single handed.

I came here on a student visa and with my older brother, we shall call him F, and we were admitted into a lovely boarding school near London. The school is not as posh as it sounds and for you Harry Potter fans out there, nothing like that either.

My best years were at that school and I will never forget that time.

My parents worked very hard to pay for the first year of school for me and F and also for my eldest brother who went to America to study as well. His name is A. They paid those initial fees with no problem and believed it was worth every penny because education is very vital.

We had actually been coming to England for 2 years previously and would stay with a family friend who was a doctor. I am mentioning she is a doctor because I had found out that was our main reason for going on those holidays.

My mother like millions of women found a lump in her breast. (This would be the cause of many subsequent problems) I only found out a few years ago she had been going to hospital for tests. To be honest I am not sure what came about that first lump she found but I do know she is not the same person she was.

We settled in to England very well but it still was not a walk in the park, every year just seemed to get harder and harder.

My mother suffers from depression and every thing was a struggle for her. From previously waking up at 5 am every morning to not having a will to live. She could not concentrate at a normal office job so she had to work at any job she could get so we could afford to eat and pay bills. While my father back in Africa would work unbelievable hours to pay the fees.

But for me this time was never difficult compared to now, I was still grateful for many things.

We bought our first house in north London which was beautiful, modest and perfect. It was everything we needed and the bills were paid for on time, no problems.

We didn’t stay there for very long, only 2 years. The house was not repossessed, but we simply moved because of the tricks of a skilled liar…