After the murder of Damilola Taylor, my mother moved the family from London to the suburbs. Trying to fit in with the white bullies left me feeling lost
- Watch Cornelius Walker’s film, Black Sheep
Growing up on an estate in Camberwell, south London, in the late-90s, I was raised around different cultures. My mum is Nigerian, my dad half-Sierra Leonean. But my last name is Walker and so, even as a child, I felt different – a bit left out when it came to the Nigerians: in jest, they’d say, “Oh, your last name’s Walker, that means you’ll be able to get a job.”
I was always a quiet kid, sensitive; more so than my two younger brothers. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was somehow unwanted. My mum would make fun of me because I was chubby and family members would call me ugly. They weren’t serious, but it hurt. One time, my mum and aunties got me to try on clothes in front of them – they didn’t fit and they all laughed. That messed up how I saw myself. I still have bad posture because I used to walk with my head down low.
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