On my first day at primary school I threw up in the middle of the classroom. It was nerves, I think – being away from family. For the following two weeks I was totally mute. Eventually I spoke – and haven’t stopped since.
My parents arrived in Bolton from Jamaica in the early 1960s with my older siblings. I was their first to be born here. It was a loving family, but Dad didn’t adapt well to the UK. It was cold and the northern industrial town was alien to the Caribbean countryside he knew. His way of coping was to work, work, work. He’ll tell you himself he hasn’t really enjoyed it here. He did it all for his children.
