A personal thread...
I grew up in Cemetery Junction in Reading town. RG1.
My dad worked 16 hour shifts.
My mum raised 5 of us. She was also the “Dinner Lady/helper” at our Primary School for years...
My house...

Was a terraced house. We were blessed with having 5 bedrooms. My dad worked his socks off to make sure we lived and ate comfortably.
He took us abroad to Pakistan, almost once a year. We were very fortunate...

Getting older, when you start to understand about areas and locations, I started noticing more and more people putting my area down, saying it was rough, horrible etc. It made us really territorial. Then, older still, when we started driving...

Trying to find parking spaces, not getting tickets or falling out with others in regards to parking was tough.
We were very lucky to live right near Palmer Park, good job, as our garden was tiny. Concrete. Top to bottom. It backed on to an alleyway. Which didn’t seem safe!

Now, me and my friends would always joke saying we need to get out of the “hood.” Need to get somewhere else, no issues with parking, space to run, air to breathe. We joked. We laughed. As if it was just a dream.

I have now moved not too far, but away from where I grew up, I have that space, a garden I wouldn’t have dreamt of, and I feel so grateful. To God, for blessing me and for my Dad for working for us and my mum who worked for all of us, especially my Dad...

I’m
Not
Gloating.
Or showing off. But just feel like I should be able to be proud. I know things can change and you have to stay humble. That’s why I say Alhamdulilah. All praise to God for blessing me. But also, it’s important to learn from mistakes. And not repeat them.

https://twitter.com/ASTsupportAAli/status/1321463917130993664?s=20 Laugh at me, but see how proud I am. How thankful I am. Alhamdulilah.

That’s why I posted pics of me painting a garage door, my front door. For some having a garage is normal. For me, from where I came from, it’s INSANE. Only them other folk had garage doors, and fancy front doors etc.

Will anybody truly appreciate the plight of an immigrant. Leaving their home to make a life for themselves elsewhere. Unless of course, you have been that immigrant. My Dad still tells me, work hard, because how hard you work is down to you.