It’s got moxie, that’s for sure. Because even after 20 years of handing out awards for music of black origin, and taking flak left, right and centre for it, the MOBO Awards are still with us. The MOBOs shouldn’t, and never will, be all things to all people. But, even as it unites its award-winners in celebration, it continues to divide its audience.
In the last four months, I have seen London in completely new ways.
I’ve been down on the streets, high-tailing it across town on all manner of transport and discovering the city after dark. As the saying goes: you live in the city, but you never do these things until somebody comes to visit – or in my case, until I started a postgrad journalism course that required me to get out and meet people.
Leaving London behind in flames is a strange way to start a holiday. That’s just what happened last week when my family and I headed off to Gatwick airport with the streets of London in the grip of anarchy.