“Watch where you’re going nigger.” Shouted a large, leather clad biker after he nearly knocked me down one spring afternoon in 1998 when my mother and I were on our way to what is now the Morrison’s in Peckham. Even at that age I had to look around for who he was talking to because I personally didn’t know any niggers and I knew for damn sure I wasn’t one. Look, the truth was I didn’t even know I was black until I returned to Britain or rather I didn’t know it was a thing. I had lived in Zimbabwe with my grandparents up until late 1996 and had started life with black, brown and white friends who I considered all to be the same, to me we were all Africans. More than that we were all just people. When I got to London I didn’t understand why the houses were so close together, why the cold was a palpable thing you could almost touch or why people who looked like me were so hard to find on the TV. Thank God my mum, in her infinite wisdom, always knew which channel and at what time black people would be on the TV. As the nineties wound down and the noughties took hold it became harder and harder to find black or brown people on mainstream British Television in shows made for and by us.  One by one my favourite British TV shows for people of colour were killed off; 3 Non-Blondes 2003, The Crouches in 2005, The Kumars at No.42 in 2006, Little Miss Jocelyn in 2008 and soon all I had left was my beloved Sky channel; Trouble.