Heinz Leopold Klapp was born in 1919 in Vienna. He was born Jewish but was not of any particular faith group. In fact, he was not a big fan of religion, due to the horrendous impact it had on his life. He grew up in Vienna an only child, very close to his mother, less so to his often-absent father. As war approached, the rumours of the Nazis plans began to circulate and his London based Uncle suggested he and his mother Anna, should come to England. The gravity of the situation was not clear at that stage, Anna chose to stay.

My father, as an intrepid 19-year-old, started selling black market cigarettes from Zagreb to raise funds for his journey. He then travelled up through Italy before claiming refugee status at the British Embassy in Switzerland. He was taken to the Orkney Islands to join the British army where he was a radiologist and peeled potatoes! For his new papers he requested to keep the same initials…

…so Heinz Leopold Klapp became Henry Lancelot Keith.

His mother Anna was deported on transport 15 from Vienna to Riga on 26/01/1942 where she was ‘murdered’ in the Shoah. His father Gustave, who had been trading paper with China, was murdered in Shanghai on 04/11/1942. The details of which are not clear. Of his whole family only two cousins survived the holocaust.

In post-war London he started with nothing. He put on parties and events before moving to fashion, retail and restaurant, notably a fashion mini-store on the Kings Road, a small hotel in Hampstead and two restaurants in the West End. It was whilst working on these businesses that he saw the price of real-estate soar and turned his hand to property. What he achieved under such adverse conditions has always given me a massive sense of pride.

My father died in 1988 at the age of 69 of a stroke having had an incredibly full and happy life, despite the unfathomably hard early years and having to live with extreme grief. He made a big contribution to 60’s and 70’s London. Not least being playing a part responsible for the arrival of the two-piece bikini to the UK.

Heinz Leopold Klapp aka Henry Lancelot Keith 01.09.1919-27.12.1988.

He was able to do this thanks to the UK’s open welcoming immigration policy.

This project celebrating migration and depicting first generation immigrants is dedicated to him.

In January 2023 a loose photographic project concept took me and my camera to Shepherds Bush Market. I took this shot of Osman in his arch. After exchanging a few words with him I realised that although I liked the picture the story behind it was much more powerful. So, the idea of ‘Open Britain’ was sewn.

Osman was born in Osman Village, just outside Cairo. Yes, Osman Village. He is the first born of five. His father was a fruit and vegetable farmer whilst his mother looked after the family. He had a very happy childhood and used his fruit farming knowledge to build a successful import and export business in Cairo with over two hundred and fifty employees.

In 2013 a British Company put in a huge order of 16 shipping containers of fresh grapes worth $450,000. The terms of business were standard: 50% up front and 50% on delivery, but the UK company never paid the second 50%. Osman continued to work trying to regain the losses and not lay off his staff, but this meant borrowing both stock and money. In 2014 Osman sold his car for $5000 and came to the UK to start legal proceedings. Costs very soon swallowed that up. Hostel room turned to hostel dormitory and before he knew it Osman found himself homeless and sleeping on the streets.

Osman was picked up by Streetlink who sent him to the homeless charities The Passage, St Mungos and No Second Night Out. All of which he is hugely grateful to.

Back in Egypt the money lenders started to make threats to Osman’s family. Things started take effect on Osman’s mental health. For Osman, suicide seemed the only solution, not least because it would get the money lenders away from his family. Fortunately, Osman contacted the Westminsiter NHS Mental Health Team.

Finding his feet on the streets of London once again, Osman noticed the juice offering in London was poor. With not even a pound in his pocket he went to the charity Tern who gave him a loan of £5300 to start a juice stall in Shepherds Bush Market. After a lot of hard work Osman was able to upgrade the stall to a shop in one of the arches. Five years on Osman now not only sells his delicious juice from the market, but has a shop and a restaurant on the Goldhawk Road, a shop on the Portobello Road and has another opening soon in Victoria.

Whilst the Osman Empire grows, the company that owed him money went bankrupt. That money is gone. Osman is working on solving the situation in Egypt but in the meantime still gives 5% of all his profit to No Second Night Out.

Osman was given 'Human Rights' status. He has to renew this every two and half years and after ten years he will be given British citizenship. He loves it here. His favourite things are the British Bobby, the Double Decker Bus and, of course, his growing business but his heart is still with his family back in Egypt.

Til Man Rai was born in 1947 in the extremely remote village Deusa in Solukhumbu region, Mount Everest, Nepal. He was only 14 when scouts came to his village and brought him to the nearest city to join the Gurkha Boys Company. It took him one week to walk there. There, he was trained until aged 18. He then became a Radio Relay Operator for the Queen’s Gurkha Signals as soldier no. 2115429. He formally entered one of the world’s most elite fighting forces.

The Gurkhas are a unique organisation of soldiers from Nepal that have been fighting for Britain for over 200 years and still serve today. After the Anglo-Nepalese War of 1814-1816, Britain decided to recruit Nepali soldiers rather than fight them. These soldiers went on to fight major battles for the British and win 13 Victoria Crosses. In the World Wars, over 50,000 Gurkhas were killed, wounded or missing and nearly 5000 gallantry medals awarded.

Til Man served in what was then known as Malaya to support British troops in the jungle warfare of the 1962-1966 Borneo Confrontation. He was posted across army bases from Hong Kong to Singapore and Borneo. Til Man was made redundant before the 15-year requisite to get a pension.

Til Man returned to farming, basket weaving and carving to support his family in Deusa. But this became harder and harder. Selling his land to pay his way to the UK, he arrived in London in 2013 with the hope of finding means to support his wife and five children left behind in Nepal. He was 66 years old.

In the UK, Til Man didn’t know anyone except a fellow villager from Nepal who picked him up at the airport. They decided to take him into their home as he had nowhere to stay (See Pic). The little he is able to save from his benefits, he sends back home. He is now 76 and this is his only way to support for his family.

There are many isolated, impoverished elderly Gurkha veterans like him in the UK and Nepal. Many were forcibly made redundant before they could qualify for pensions. Those eligible for pensions only get a fraction of their British and Commonwealth counterparts. Historically their pension pay differences have been nearly 1000%.

Til Man Rai is hopeful despite missing his wife, kids and grandkids. He and his fellow Gurkhas continue to fight for their rights.

Elizabeth Akalawu was born in Imostate, South East Nigeria. Her parents were yam farmers. (see picture). Elizabeth was a talented student. She studied general nursing and midwifery after school in Nigeria. She planned to come to the UK for two years but sixty years later she’s still here. It wasn’t an easy start though, she used to cry from homesickness.

From an early age she always wanted to look after and help people. So, the choice of nursing was an easy one. She had planned to teach midwifery, but when she arrived ‘they laughed at me’. Although trained by Irish nurses to European standards in Nigeria, they wanted her to redo her studies here. Elizabeth is a strong character, she pushed back. They then said she needed to do learn the cultural difference. Elizabeth didn’t have an answer for that. She negotiated it down to one year.

In the 80’s as a school nurse in Brent she discovered black parents were fearful of going to parents’ evenings and disadvantaged children were suffering. So, ‘Nurse Liz’ went on home visits to persuade the parents to attend. It worked. School nurses across Brent then followed suit. A new era began.

Elizabeth spent fifty-four years balancing being a mum and being a nurse. She loved being a midwife but admits she had bigger ambitions. Something that was neither helped by having four children nor coming from abroad.

Elizabeth is glad that things are easier for her children’s and grandchildren’s generations. She counts introducing home visits to schools in Brent as one of her greatest achievements. I can’t help thinking fifty-four years’ work for the National Health Service is pretty good too

Ibrahim is from Lagos, Nigeria. He came at the beginning of the 80’s to do his A’levels and went on to Glasgow University to study accountancy. On graduation, whilst others were getting on the career ladder, he could only get small short-term contracts. Something he puts down to the colour of his skin. With 7 children to feed Ibrahim chose to switch to the consistency of driving a cab. As Ibrahim’s children started making life-choices he encouraged them to study medicine, ‘a career that discrimination could not effect’. He is the father to four doctors, a lawyer, a diplomat at the UK embassy in Washington and a student of Politics and Economics.

Nigeria is the 5th largest oil producer in the world yet 70% of the population live on under £2 a day. In 1978 the Nigerian Naira was on parity with the British Pound, today it is at nine hundred to one pound. Ibrahim told me religion is used as a weapon to enable the renowned political corruption in Nigeria. When we got onto his religion, he was fasting for Ramadan, he was quick to add that the most important faith to him was ‘humanity’.
Ibrahim has a thick Nigerian accent, something he confesses he has consciously maintained, ‘My accent is my identity’. His wife, now an NHS nurse, was chosen for him by his parents and the local ‘oracle’ and sent over to the UK. When I asked if this traditional method worked, he gave an important life lesson ‘If you don’t complain about someone, they won’t complain about you’.

Finally, we ended on what he saw as ‘the controversial subject of immigration’, ‘Without War there wouldn’t be an immigration problem. We need to stop the invasions’.

Dr Jai Kumari Gir was born in 1934 in Hydrabad, a childhood she describes as ‘completely idyllic’. In a sign of things to come she delivered two of her own brothers when her mother went into labour. They called her the ‘gypsy girl’ because of her incessant lust for travel and adventure and it soon became clear she wanted to make a career for herself in England. Not least because she had a thing about a classy English gentleman, with a particular penchant for Roger Moore.

She buckled down and studied hard. It took 4 months to get exams results in those days as the papers were shipped back to the UK. She gained a place at Girton College, Cambridge but because of currency restrictions couldn’t take it up. She continued to study in India till the restrictions eased and then took a place at West London School of medicine (now Charring Cross Hospital) in 1956.

She was quick to integrate into the UK something she believes was helped by the lightness of her skin. She ‘loved necking ciders’ in and around Holland Park and Notting Hill. As a Gynaecologist for many years and then a doctor in General Practice, she stresses the Health Service in the 1960’s was under the same pressure due the squeezing of resources.

Jai believes the way to stop any sort of discrimination is not through Governments or legislation, nor schools and their teachers, but with mothers themselves. She also says Britain is a country of immigrants. It always has been. ‘There are very few families who can claim to be entirely English in their bloodline’. No one, she says, ‘owns this Earth, and everything is on loan.’ Which means we should all be welcomed, wherever it is on the Earth, and ‘the British have been rather wonderful at this’.

I met her with her son Ayas, as I finished taking my snaps, he said with great fondness ‘You look so very wise’., ‘No I don’t I look like a witch.’

Silvina Cruz is from La Platta in Argentina. She moved here in 1997, before Argentina’s economic woes, in search of adventure rather than economic opportunity.

Her mother was aboriginal Guarani, a native Indian tribe that lives in the tropical rainforests of Paraguay, Brazil and Argentina. The women maintain fields of corn (maize), cassava, and sweet potatoes while men hunt and fish. Her mother was taken away from her family in the rainforest at the age of eleven to be a servant in the town of Misiones. Luckily, she connected with her sister and escaped to Buenas Aires at the age of 20, where she met Silvina’s father, who was of Portuguese descent.

Silvina spoke no English when she arrived in London. She started working as a waitress in ‘Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels type bar’ and as a life-model. Now she has a business running life-drawing classes. They run 4 classes a week: Camden, Holborn, Soho and Kings Cross. It attracts serious artists and people looking for something social equally. “What I found since Lockdown is things changed. People want to stay longer and want to connect. People missed the connection.”

Silvina made it back to Argentina to spend lockdown with her parents who passed shortly afterwards. Something she was visibly grateful for.

“Life, like those yoga mats, can be messy. It’s how we allow them to unravel and unfold that enables us to make sense of the mess instead of sanitising our experience.” Cat Alip-Douglas.

Cat Alip-Douglas was born in Manila, Philippines in 1972. She moved to New York with her family at the age of seven. Cat speaks with a subtle soft East Coast accent.

Her life in metropolitan Manila was a privileged one. At the time it was still under a dictatorship and divided into the haves and have-nots. Her parents employed domestic help not out of desire or necessity but to aid those in need. She remembers the first morning of school in the US being laughed at by her sisters for sitting on the end of her bed with arms raised waiting to be dressed. However, she took to independence quickly. She loved being a ‘latch-key kid’ in unruly 80’s NY.

At Rutgers University she discovered the NYC rave scene. Fast Forward from all night partying to planning parties at Condè Nast, ‘definitely no place like it at that time’. Cat loved her job but worked ridiculous hours and discovered yoga to help with the stress and insomnia.

September 11th 2001, Cat was in the office when flight 11 crashed into the North Tower. The focus on an upcoming work event meant she remained rooted to her desk, highlighting her ‘obliviousness and self-absorption’. Like for so many this turned out to be a wake-up call and a defining moment in her life. The yoga practice and its spiritual learnings became a lifeline.

In 2004, her London based tattoo artist boyfriend encouraged her to pack in the rat race and move to London. It took a while to adapt to the ‘slower’ pace of London, but turns out, it was exactly what she needed. Yoga took over. When Cat and her husband, who she met through her tattooist-ex, inherited the London Jivamukti Centre in 2011 it evolved into their own Sangyé Yoga School (Sangyé is Tibetan for Buddha - awakened

The change to Sangyé couldn’t have been smoother, thanks to the incredible commitment of students and teachers, but Covid, unsurprisingly, hit hard: they’re still nowhere near pre-pandemic levels. However, unlike many centres, they’re still standing and providing a valuable service to the North-West London community.

Vijay Dhir was born in Punjab in 1943. From a well-off background, he was lucky enough to have cameras from an early age and used to do little projections of self-cut films to friends using his dad’s torch.

Wanting a career as a photographer he came to the UK in 1962. Unable to get an apprenticeship due discrimination at the time he was forced to get a job as a porter with British Rail whilst studying photography in evening classes. Having struck up a relationship with the Chief Mechanical Engineer, Mr Ridgway, whilst cleaning his shoes and making his tea, he was put forward for an engineering apprenticeship. Gratefully Vijay accepted whilst informing Mr Ridgeway of his real dream.

Months later Mr. Ridgeway’s secretary called and informed Vijay that he had an interview for an apprenticeship at British Transport Films. On leaving the interview and getting the position Vijay broke down in tears. What he thought was an impossible dream had come true.

He took both stills and moving images for the rail service whilst doing his exams to become a member of the Institute of British Photography. As the rail film departments started to close, he got a job with the BBC as a newsreel cameraman in Northern Ireland, but the danger proved too much and he resigned. Still finding it difficult to get a job as cameraman or photographer, he took a job as a printer for the Greater London Council. Within a year he was promoted to press photographer. ‘It was my dream, I was photographing the queen, the prime minister, Hollywood stars, you name it’. However, it wasn’t all glamorous, one assignment saw shoulder deep in the London sewage system for several days on end. Moreover, at this time his family home became heavily targeted by the National Front.

In 1986 the GLC was abolished, a very happy sixteen years came to an end. This was followed by fourteen years as ‘Head of Media Services’ at Central St Martins and another fourteen years with his own company, ‘Vijay’s Photography’. In 2018 Vijay published his autobiography ‘Punjab to Paddington’.

Vijay was commissioned to take a portrait of the Queen Mother on her 80th Birthday. An iconic picture that won him awards. He thoroughly enjoyed the privilege of being ‘photographer by royal commission’ and takes huge pride in his letter from the Queen.

Thank heavens for the Mr. Ridgeways of this world.

Einav Ettinger-Cohen (left) was born in Tel Aviv in 1986. She was the Israeli national judo champion and competed internationally. During national service she turned her hand to sports training. She hated guns, so during target practice would only pretend to fire. The commander would look at the target in stunned disbelief, thinking she was a really bad shot. The combination of having judo injuries herself and not being fulfilled by personal training led her into a career as a physiotherapy. She now helps North-West London get back to exercising at ‘Rise NW10 Physiotherapy’.

Coming out of a two-year relationship in Tel Aviv in June 2015 Einav thought she’d try a dating app. Straight away a message popped up from Nikki who was on holiday over from the UK. Einav's biggest love at that time was her dog also called Nikki. Einav admits the matching names was a bit a psychological hurdle to start with. After months of a long-distance relationship and various trips back and forth between homelands, Einav chose love and decided to move to London. Although out to friends, she still hadn't told her close family, So, in the same moment of telling them she was moving to a far-away land, she broke the news she was gay, something Einav semi-jokes she was able to soften by saying ‘But she’s Jewish!’. Years of anxiety that her parents would reject her were unfounded. They were in fact more troubled by the fact they she felt she couldn’t tell them. Four years later Einav's family came trooping over to London to celebrate their Gay-Jewish wedding, including her 90 year-old Grandma.

During the height of the Covid pandemic, they embarked on an IVF journey, Nikki as the egg donor and Einav as the carrier. Third time lucky, Einav fell pregnant. Einav suffered from Hypermemsis - hardly able to eat or even drink water throughout her pregnancy - which she describes as feeling like she had food poisoning for nearly nine months. Their beautiful daughter was induced prematurely and despite weighing under 2kg, she emerged a healthy little warrior. And you’ll be glad to hear they didn’t choose the name Nikki.

Pic : Mia, Einav, Nikki and Nikki.

Dimitri Stefanov’s shop on the King’s Road, Chelsea is a ‘lighthouse’, only this one draws you in. When I photographed him in his shop, he was surrounded by friends and colleagues who he had just cooked for: His London family. It’s easy to see why, there is something extremely endearing about Dimitri.

Dimitri was born in Bulgaria. He didn’t go to school much. At fourteen he moved with his parents from Bulgaria to Greece and worked in polytunnels. Something he looks back at with great fondness.

In 2009 he moved to the UK to be with his friend an Antique Lighting dealer. The shift from aubergines to chandeliers was an easy one for Dimitri, despite absolutely no experience, he loved it. He helped with cleaning and maintenance of lights and running the shop.

Dimitri’s innate talent was spotted five years later by an octogenarian premier artisan chandelier maker called Philip Turner. Philip took him under his wing teaching him restoration, pinning and all the skills needed to create new and bring antique fittings back to life.

In 2010 Dimitri picked up some old iron chandelier frames that were being thrown out. He was ‘drawn’ to some raw rock crystals at the back of a friends chest of drawers and so the alchemy began. Three days later they were sold.

Soon after, encouraged by Philip, Dimitri left the shop to start making lamps of his own. The next chandeliers, a pair of swans, sold just as fast.

Dimitri is now one of the most pre-eminent rock crystal chandelier specialists in the world. He counts many of the world’s wealthiest people as his clients including celebrities, royalty, Claridge’s, Annabel’s and Gaudi Museum,Barcelona.

Dimitri is Philips legacy to the antique world and creating chandelier is Dimitri’s absolute passion. Having said that he still misses the polytunnels.

Sinead Stone née Doherty is only recently married, she’s still adapting to the name change. She’s from Donegal in the North-West of Ireland. She had the best ‘free’ childhood with her younger very tall brother Eugene, her ‘Wild Altantic Way’ fisherman Dad and her carer mum.

She studied children’s and general nursing at Trinity College, Dublin. There are no student loans in Ireland, so she is extremely grateful for her parents ‘who had to work their arse off’ to support her in becoming the first person in the family to go to Uni.

She’s always been very creative but was encouraged to do something with more security by her parents. Nursing runs in the family, so it was an easy choice. She had planned to do palliative care but found it too distressing, so paediatrics beckoned.

She was recruited to work at Great Ormond Street in 2015 and over she popped. And a couple of years later chose to specialise as a paediatric allergy nurse. Her job entails keeping children healthy in outpatient clinics rather than ‘making them better and sending them home’ which used to bring a sense of achievement that she misses. However, feeding children foods and waiting for the reaction keeps her on her toes.

She loves London ‘it’s the best city in the world’. London has allowed her to develop her own personal style, something she couldn’t do back in small town Donegal. She used to think London was so eclectic because everyone was so insular and getting on with their own thing but now believes it’s ok to be ‘unapologetically yourself’ because it’s so ‘wonderfully accepting’. That acceptance is exactly what ‘Open Britain’ is celebrating.

Sinead fulfills her creative urge from childhood by making flower crowns. She finds them in skips, car boot sales, nursing homes, charity shops... you name it. Bringing old flowers back to life may not be as rewarding as nursing young children but Sinead’s whole demeanor ignites when discussing this little creative passion.

Jama Elmi is from Somalia, he moved to the UK when he was eight. His father, having been ambassador to the UK, was able to migrate here with his six children fleeing the Civil War.

When Jama started school in Chalk Farm he found it difficult to make friends and integrate. Aged nine he went and bought himself pink trousers and a Hawaiian shirt. All the kids came flocking.

In 2018 Jama was traveling on the Central Line from Stratford to Queensway. He looked around and at himself, everything was black, white or grey. Exasperated by the drabness he went straight out shopping and the passion for the power of flamboyant dressing was reignited. Jama now has between 80 and 90 colourful suit combinations.

Jama is a mental health support worker. He went to his interview for his current job in his rainbow suit. Gradually one by one the residents walked into the interview and complimented him on his suit. Some even hugged him. ‘The Boss Lady’ saw the impact and gave him the job there and then.

His suites still play an important therapeutic role in his day-to-day work. Each resident gets to pick their favourite colour for him to wear on a chosen day and when one resident wouldn’t talk anymore, Jama decided to turn up in a completely ‘wrong’ clashing outfit. She couldn’t resist commenting and soon the communication lines were reinstated.

The ‘therapy’ extends to the outside world too, always bringing a smile to the face of people whose path he crosses. Some days he can be stopped hundreds of times, whether for a photo or a simple 'hello'. ‘

When he’s not accepting awards for 'London's Best Dressed Man', working as a health support worker or posing for selfies, he spends his time looking after his elderly mother. She on the other hand spends her time concerned with how much it’s all costing.

Florent Charly Romain Bidois was born in 1986 “just like Lady Gaga.” His parents were both cleaners for a City Council near Rennes and still live where they grew up. “I am different. I am a Breton through and through, I’m a sailor, I'm a traveller, I'm an adventurer. I am Indiana Jones. Rennes was too small and France too judgemental.”

Florent initially came to London in 2011 for a pattern cutting internship and immediately felt a sense of belonging. He also came because of his love of the English language, but quickly realised London gave him the space to develop and express himself.

Florent currently works in fashion retail and loves it. In October 2022, he was contestant #12 at the 50th anniversary of “Alternative Miss World”. “I didn’t win, but I won the heart of the people!” On the third Thursday of each month, he runs the “Colour Walk” in Old Spitalfields Market, an event that brings creative people together to celebrate the love of dressing colourfully, whilst helping to support the market.

Florent identifies as a male. When he dresses up, it is to present his personal vision of beauty. He becomes ‘a creature that is neither male nor female, a visual depiction of his personality without the restraints of gender labels’. ‘I combine elements of menswear and womenswear. I don’t shave, tuck or pad, I don't do wigs or boobs. I wear men's shirts and bow ties, women's dresses, heels and makeup,’

Even though he's often perceived as a drag queen he won’t be one until he performs on stage. Something he says will be the next step in his ‘UK-enabled’ personal development.

Umit Mesut Hasan is very popular. He gets a lot of attention from journalists and filmmakers (famous ones at that). He was featured in the Guardian this month and there’s a features length documentary in them making. It’s easy to see why. His shop is more like a museum of a bygone era, than a shop, that surprises at every head turn; reels, videotapes, memorabilia and most importantly reels of celluloid, culminating in the ultimate surprise at the back, a cinema. (See Open Britain Reels for photos)

Umit, 62, is Turkish Cypriot. His Grandfather, Behjet, had a cinema in Lefke in the North of Cyprus. “I have a lot to thank my grandfather for.”, he says with great fondness. Umit came to the UK with his family when he was nine. On leaving school he started working as a rewind boy at the Rio cinema, Dalston, then worked his way up to head projectionist.

‘Umit and Son’ started as a grocery store 35 years ago, but the passion ignited by his grandfather took over. Renting out videos turned into renting projectors til it eventually became all about film. His top three films are the original ‘King Kong’, ‘Bicycle Thieves’ and ‘Sunset Boulevard’.

Umit is surrounded by analogue. The radio was on, vinyl and vhs’s were for sale, he has no mobile phone or computer, and he only accepts cash. ‘Soon the telephone lines will be cut off you know’, he said with resignation…. He doesn’t hate digital, it’s just not his thing.

Umit was hospitalised during Covid, but like his shop, that has survived massive gentrification, he has incredible resilience.

Viveth Hardy is ‘The station lady that sings.’ She’s ‘Jamaican born and bred’. She moved here in 2002. Why? ‘It’s a mystery!’ she laughs, she laughs a lot, ‘Wasn’t a choice. Spontaneous. Things happen. You just move to it. I’m a gambler’.

In Jamaica she was mother of four boys (now fully grown and fled the nest) and a machine operator in a kids snack factory. When she moved here, she was a carer for 4 years.

Now she’s busy making commuters smile with her special gift of song. Why does she do it? ‘It warms my heart. It’s something to do with the within. I don’t do it because I want to sing. It’s a spiritual thing. I can’t control it. If it comes, I have to get with it. I don’t have any shame in my game. I be on the platform. I be on the street. I be at home. I just sing. I be sleeping. I wake up in the morning with a song in my head. I just sing. I’m like a Boom-Box’. She’s a Boom Box that’s a bit of a legend in Kensal Rise.