I don't think you can grow up in this city without being political. Especially in Newham, you see the poverty – and just travelling across the city, you see how different it is to other parts. I've always had this idea that we're getting a raw deal, but I didn't know that I'd become really politically active.My activism started in 2012, just after I’d been to Goldsmiths and studied international relations. I found that quite an alienating experience, with a lot of middle class kids, who were really good at arguing their case, but I didn't feel like it was a safe space for me to be in and talk about my politics.I was studying colonialism and my family's history is part of that: my Dad was Kenyan and my Mum is Singaporean. I was reading about loads of white people talking about that and also not really feeling like I had anyone to talk to in-depth about that topic, which was resonating so closely with me – I was learning about the trauma and injustice my family went through.I came out of uni and my old media teacher asked me if I fancied taking part in a project called the Momentum Project. We were doing consultations and starting to think about how we can turn Newham around so it will work for the community. I've been very active in that community since then. I run a community choir called the Royal Docks Singstars, in a community centre beside London City Airport. That community is facing the airport's desire to expand. Newham council is all up for that. Injustice is on my doorstep.It's all boots on the ground, because everyone involved with the campaign is either studying full time or have full time jobs.One of our tactics is reading a poem on buses Rohan [Ayinde] and I have written called, Can you see us now? It's almost a rallying cry to the people of London. We did this because the normal ways of political engagement – to make a speech, or knock on a door – are sometimes really boring to people and they don't want to be spoken to like that anymore.The reactions have been incredible, rounds of applauses on tops of buses, people taking their headphones out. Everyone's eyes were up, and that's what needs to happen. We need to engage with each other on a human level, people are actually crying out for that.Oh boy. It's been hard. I don't want to be like, 'woe is me', because as women we're facing various struggles throughout our day. But being in these environments has opened my eyes.I'll give you an example. I went to City Hall to be part of a conference run by Just Space, which is an awesome organisation bringing communities together to support each other on London planning. Loads of community leaders were there from across London. A lot of them were academics and it was mainly a white male environment. When a panel opened up to the floor, this old white French guy alluded to it being up to communities to understand planning law: 'If you want to write something you have to do your research.' I interpreted that as 'if they don't do their research, how can they expect change to happen?' I was so angry. I said I disagreed and that I work with communities that sometimes have English as a second or third language, and they are not being consulted for a reason. He interrupted me and said 'you're too busy watching TV to do your research,' on the basis of me being a young person and a woman of colour.You heard this collective intake of breath in the room when he said that. But after that, I had this moment of reflection, thinking, does everyone think I am a crazy, angry black woman? I was blaming myself.