By Martin Ojo

It’s Friday and I leave the studio to get lunch. I always excite myself by leaving without knowing what I intend on chowing down on. My stomach informed my mind that it is extremely hungry. My mind then commanded my legs to walk swiftly towards San Marino today, an Italian restaurant that have an awesome Sicilian chicken in ciabatta bread. I usually ask them sprinkle some cheese inside it. They warm it for me; my stomach tells me I made a wise choice.

Walking back towards the studio on the busy Brixton road I spot an old friend from secondary school. Elle! I hug him in excitement and joy.  We exchange a few words and I quickly gather life isn’t very rewarding for him. My excitement level slowly drops into a tense felt concern and worry for him. I read and study his body language, arm and hand gestures indicating giving up on most things in life. ‘I plan on leaving the UK soon…’ confirming what I had decrypted from his movements. ‘It was great seeing you Elle. Please take care. Hope to see you soon…’ says my yellow hat as I smile and hug him once more with as much enthusiasm as one can conjure up in such a moment. He walks off… I stand there. He walks further away. I stand there. I can’t see him anymore. I stand there. I wonder what is around the corner he turned onto. I stand there. I wonder whether he’ll endure some of the battles he is facing. I stand there…

Then my stomach informed my mind that it is extremely hungry. My mind then commanded my legs to walk swiftly towards the studio so it can be fed.