My mother and I returned home late – it was 1:30 in the morning. The street was packed with badly parked cars. I was even more confused when I let myself into the house to find it full of unknown party-goers holding a wake. I greeted everyone in the front room and continued to walk through the house. Each room had its own sound system, and the music was fantastic. I recognised an Aswad tune I hadn’t heard in years.
In one room everyone was wearing West Ham United shirts and I burst in waving my arms in the air shouting “You Hammers bastards” and joined in with the dancing.
I knew my mother was hating every minute of it, which made enjoy it even more.