Igrew up in Lewisham, and anywhere where there’s poverty, and where you bunch up a large amount of people and social problems together, you are going to get crime. Youth violence is something that has been happening around me since I was a teenager. It’s not new and, where I’m from, it’s not just something that only exists on the TV news – it’s real. There’s a lack of options and opportunities, and it causes a lot of anger, a lot of rage, and people look for a way to release that.
The lyrics to my new single, Run Run, are based on things I’ve experienced. One of those was seeing a gun for the first time, when I was 14, at a party. Two boys started arguing about the music being too loud, and it escalated, and one of them pulled out a gun – I remember being so petrified, everyone running and not really understanding what was happening. Me and my friends only ever spoke about it once after that, which is strange. But I think we were shell-shocked and didn’t want to contemplate what might have happened. Over time we became desensitised to being around that kind of violence.
The boys at the party weren’t that bothered about it at all – we were made to feel like it wasn’t a big deal. I think boys in those environments live a completely different life; I can’t imagine feeling like I need to carry a knife with me when I go out, because somebody might attack me at any moment. Run Run is about being trapped in that world and not being able to escape. Who can you ask for help? You can’t go to a local youth centre because they have all been closed, you definitely can’t talk to the police; a lot of people feel like they are not going to give you any sort of protection if you ask for help, and you’ll be ostracised by your community. So you feel like there’s no way out. But I want to let young people know that, even though it’s a major struggle, they can escape that environment.
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