Will Banksy Reveal Himself In His New Film?

West Bank barrier Banksy artwork: Little girl frisking a soldier

He’s known for his creative stencil work in the most unassuming of places, but now Bristol-born graffiti artist Banksy has embarked on a project of a different sort. And what’s that? I hear you ask. Well, he’ll be internationally premiering his debut film at the Sundance Film Festival this coming Sunday.

The movie, titled Exit Through The Gift Shop, shows him speaking on camera for the very first time and is narrated by Welsh actor Rhys Ifans (you might remember him as Spike in the film Notting Hill).

The man himself has described the film as how he “set out to film the unfilmable – and failed”. Erm, OK.

Little is known about the plot of the 89 minute feature film- that too is on the hush hush. But the festival website vaguely reveals that the film is about French filmmaker, Terry Guetta, setting out to record the “secretive world” of street art, when he subsequently meets Banksy, and so the adventure ensues.

Banky’s appeal is in his anonymity and elusiveness, so unveiling himself seems, to me, a very unlikely prospect. If anything, there’s a greater possibility that he’ll leave audiences asking more questions rather than having any pending ones answered.

Have a look at the trailer below.

Black Pearl Review: ‘Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire’

The film’s catchline is: “Life is hard. Life is short. Life is painful. Life is rich. Life is….Precious.” I thought this was quite fitting considering that the film encompasses all such adjectives and emotions. It’s a movie about the power of education, the beauty we all possess within, loving who you are, motherhood and friendship.

Based on Push- a novel written by New York poet Claireece ‘Sapphire‘ Jones- it’s set in 1980s Harlem (USA), and is about an overweight, illiterate teenager who becomes pregnant for the second time by her abusive father. She is referred on by her high school to enroll in an alternative school- for troubled teens- in the hope that her life will head in a better direction. We follow her journey of her learning to read and finding the acceptance and friendship that she deserves from her classmates and teacher. Her courage to stand up to her abusive mother (played by Mo’Nique) and move away from ‘home’ to build a new, happy life for herself and her children.

The news that Precious receives in the end is extremely sad and unfortunate. Really pulled at my hear strings, but I won’t ruin it for those of you who are yet to see it.

Directed by Lee Daniels (who also produced Monster’s Ball), it’s gritty style projects an air of delicacy yet strength and Precious’ narration, though simple gives an amazing insight into her very isolated world. 

It felt as if I was watching a documentary. That’s how real the acting translated through the screen to me. I felt totally immersed.

Gabourey Sidibe (aged 24), who plays Precious, canceled the third year of her psychology major to play the role and I thought she did a pretty damn good job of it, really embodying her observant and aware character.

I didn’t think Mariah’s performance (as Mrs Weiss, Precious’ case worker) in this was particularly wonderful but having said that, she wasn’t awful either.

Mr Lenny Kravitz plays the role of attractive, suave Nurse John (yes a male nurse).

Precious is definitely a tale of triumph! A masterful dramatisation, some may say and no doubt a socially conscious movie.

I rate this film 8.5 pearls out of 10. A must see.

Precious will be released in the UK on Friday January 29th 2010. Watch the trailer below.

“I don’t mean to sound racist but…”

This weekend at work, a colleague said to me “I don’t mean to sound racist…” So I stopped him and said: “Well, that means that whatever is about to come out of your mouth is going to be blatantly racist.” He went straight on the defensive. “No, no!” He responded. Anyway, I stopped what I was doing, looked him directly in the eyes and heard him out. “This should be good”, I thought.

He started again in his Essex/cockney accent: “I don’t mean to saand racist but I ‘ate it when foreigners who can speak English speak their language to other people that can speak English an’all. It does my head in.” Pause. Now, I don’t I need to tell you what race he is…. And so it continues….

Now if his point was that it’s rude when someone speaks their mother tongue (that you don’t understand or can’t speak) in front of you, totally disregard your presence, then I would have understood what he was saying, because I myself find that annoying at times.  But that wasn’t even the point he was making.

“Well”, I began challenging him, ”Supposing English isn’t their first language and both people feel more comfortable speaking their mother tongue to each other?”

“I don’t care!” He replied in anger “If they’re in this country they should speak English.”

“Wow!” I said, taken aback “So, for example, when White English people go and settle in Spain, do you think that all they speak is Spanish? Do they totally abandon speaking English?”

He tried to explain himself but I wasn’t having it. I dismissed him, at which point he took the liberty of informing me that he wasn’t speaking to me any more. Ha! ”Is it cos I is Black?” I asked humourously, just infuriating him further. As if I actually cared. He’s not even deep enough to hold an intellectual conversation with.

“Listen” ,I added while he began throwing his toys out of his pram, ”Just because you can only speak one language, don’t knock those that have the ability to speak two or more.If you want to bring up an issue with me, make sure you actually have a valid point because right now you sound dumb.”

I don’t like to pull out the racism card any time someone offends or discriminates against me because I would forever be paranoid, but the prejudice undertone to what he said really opened my eyes to his true character. What he said wasn’t actually racist but the intention behind his words was fueled by racial prejudice.He was totally showing his ignorance.

I find it rather amusing whenever an ignorant white person assumes that because I’m Black, I eat jerk chicken, rice and peas every day of the damn week. Don’t get me wrong. I love to tuck into a good Caribbean dish, but erm I’m African and also enjoy the delights of my own traditional cuisine. But they wouldn’t know that simply because of some of their lack of willingness to learn about different cultures (and why should they when staying in a little bubble is much more fun?)

For goodness sake. I speak and write far better English that the guy telling me about the language itself and I wasn’t even born in this country.

Maybe he’s blind, but last time I checked I was blacker than black. If that’s how he feels about “foreigners” then he was speaking to the totally wrong person. He should have made that point to his white friends, who, I’m sure would have appreciated it far more than I did. They would probably agree with him and have a good ole hyena laugh about it while drinking a pint of beer and scratching their balls.

There’s not one person on this planet that can honestly say that they have never said,thought and/or done anything racist at all in their lives. Racism exists. Fact. In some people is dormant and others, very active.

Racism: the maximum of hatred for a minimum of reason.

I once saw on twitter: “Question: When does a black person become a nigger? Answer: When they leave the room.” Very clever, I thought to myself sarcastically but the irony is that they were actually showing themselves up in that “joke”.

Maybe it’s an inferiority complex that they have, but the sooner racists start seeing individuals for their human worth rather than as a colour, the sooner they’ll actually start valuing their own selves. Rant over. 

Haiti Earthquake

Like millions around the world, I woke up on Tuesday (12th January) morning this week to the news that a devastating earthquake had hit Haiti. The disaster is the worst of it’s kind to strike the country in 200 years.

The Red Cross estimates that 50,000 people have died and 300,000 have been left homeless, with up to three million people injured – a third of the country’s population.

Former Fugees rapper Wyclef Jean’s (above) charity text appeal for victims reached $1m in just a matter of days, with over 200,000 Twitter followers donating to the cause.

Desperate survivors, increasingly frustrated with the delay of international help have turned their anger into to scenes of violence and looting on the streets.

Watching the news has almost become unbearable: seeing so much human suffering and heartbreak. The highly emotive images of dust covered survivors and covered bodies on the side of the roads will be etched in my memory for a while yet to come. I cannot even begin to comprehend what the people of Haiti are enduring, simply because their experiences are not my reality. I only wish that I could physically be there to do my bit for humanity and help.

An acquaintance of mine on Twitter made a very valid point. Haiti gained independence on 1st January 1804, making it the first Black nation-state of it’s kind in the world and 153 years ahead of the next independent Black country 1957- Ghana (it’s even older than some European states). Yet Haiti is one of the most under developed countries of the world and now that it’s infrastructure is virtually destroyed, rebuilding lives will prove to be a painstaking task.

I was totally disgusted by the comments made by famous American televangelist Pat Robertson’s insensitive comments. According to him the people of Haiti “swore a pact to the devil” and have been “cursed” by his god, and that the Island of Haiti has been cursed by “one thing after the other”, that is why they deserved the quake.

As evangelical pastor Rick Warren quite rightly responded via Twitter:

Labeling any natural disaster as God’s judgment is nonsense. True “judgment begins with God’s family” 1Peter4:17, not others

My thoughts and well wishes go out to the sufferers of the disaster as well as those involved in the rescue operation.

USEFUL LINKS:

www.dec.org.uk or call 0370 60 60 900

www.yele.org

www.redcross.org.uk

Mystrogen 2009 UK Rap Up

Check out the video to Mystrogen’s 2009 UK Rap up produced by Colin Emmanuel a.k.a Black Einstein. A very witty and humourous sum up of all the shenanigans that took place in 2009.  I need not say more:

Follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/RebeccaMonique

Follow Mystrogen on Twitter: http://twitter.com/Mystrogen

Follow Collin Emmanuel on Twitter: http://twitter.com/BlackEinstein

Black Pearl Review: Cat On A Hot Tin Roof

‘Twas my friend’s birthday earlier last week so I treated her (and myself) to see Tennessee Williams‘ Cliggiddy-Cat on a Higiddy-Hot Tin Roof at the Novello Theatre in London. And what can I say? It was a such a hoot!

I’ve never been to the place and was quite impressed at how fancy and posh-looking it was inside. Immaculately painted walls, huge fairytale-like mirrors, chandeliers galore! Nice, I thought.

The birthday girl and I (who are regular theatre buddies) commented on how that was the first time we’ve ever seen so many black people in a theatre audience. “Black people attract black people”, she surmised before getting a strange look from a white lady sitting to our right.

No adventures to report, apart from a woman who asked one of the ushers “Are those seats behind us taken? I ask because that man *she points rudely to her right* keeps coughing and spreading his germs I was wondering if we could move!”

“Mother!” Her son whispered fiercely, “Will YOU be quiet! You’re embarrassing me”. Of course, this only propelled her to make more of a fuss. But she wasn’t the only one who noticed the middle-aged man on her row that took it upon himself to spread his nasty bacteria- the whole audience did! In fact, it was as if he was the star of the show!

Towards the end of the interval, the coughing mongrel greeted his friend back to her seat with a very loud: “Here she is!” She had only popped to the loo! He then grabbed her by the shoulders and laid a smooch on what would have been her lips if she didn’t offer her cheek instead! I actually wanted to throw up! It was painful to watch…so I watched! But nothing would have prepared me for what my eyes were about to behold. As she sat down, he stayed standing and started thrusting his hips towards her before lunging forward as if trying to stretch out his calf muscles. Eeeewww! I didn’t pay my money to see this tomfoolery!….

Anyway, once again, I digress!…. As described on the official website, the all black cast is “dynamic” indeed. It’s led by Academy Award® nominee and two-time Tony winner James Earl Jones (he played the king of Zamunda in Coming To America), Tony Award® winner Phylicia Rashad (you might remember her as the mum in The Cosby Show), Olivier Award winner Adrian Lester (Mickey stone in the drama Hustle) and Tony Award® nominee Sanaa Lathan (a.k.a the eye candy).

Directed by Debbie Allen, this 1955 masterpiece (though shifted into the 1980s for this production) is about a wealthy American family from the dirty South who get up to the normal dysfunctional everyday shenanigans. The play is set on Big Daddy’s (the patriarch, played by James Earl Jones) 65^th birthday. He and his wife, Big Mamma (played by Phylicia Rashad) are the only ones who are unaware that he is actually dying from cancer rather than just suffering from a spastic colon (that’s not a joke. That’s the actual medical term).

Their alcoholic son Brick (Adrian Lester), a former professional footballer, makes many attempts throughout the play to fend off the sexual advances made by his nymphomaniac of a wife, Maggie (Sanaa Lathan) because she had an affair with his best friend who drank himself to death (literally) and doesn’t feel like he can measure up. And considering Brick’s left leg is plastered and he has to rely on crutches he does a pretty good job at avoiding Maggie, the sex fiend.

Brick fears intimacy with his father but all is revealed when the two finally sit down and talk. And thank goodness he eventually gets that ‘click’ in his head that he’s been waiting for all day (you’ll know what I mean when you go and watch it).

The funniest part for me was when Big Daddy and Brick were having their male bonding chat and Big Daddy says: “You know what I want to do?” He demonstrates a fingering motion with his index and middle fingers and then gyrates his hips while saying “Bang, bang bang!” Or something along those lines. Cringe-worthy or what! But hilarious nevertheless!

I don’t want to give too much away about the plot but the play is filled with just the right balance of laughs and seriousness. The acting is second to none.

Sanaa Lathan effortlessly delivers a very sultry and sassy Maggie; Adrian Lester has a very impressive American accent and projects his character’s discontent most convincingly; Phylicia Rashad made me chortle on many occasions but I didn’t feel enough of her character’s pain. And of course James Earl Jones’ presence as the aggressive, foul-mouthed, wealthy Mississippi plantation-owner was tremendous.

I did however, wonder what Richard Blackwood was doing in it. I think he said a grand total of… wait for it…..drum roll please….four words. My friend only noticed him at the end when all the characters came out to bow. She was like “Oh, there he is!”. Pahaha! (Sorry, that was mean of me to laugh).

My only disappointment with the play lies with its ending, which I thought came to an abrupt halt.

But in all honesty, it’s one of THE best plays I’ve seen. I give Cat on a Hot Tin Roof 8.5 pearls out of 10.

Cat On A Hot Tin Roof will be playing until Saturday 10^th April 2010. To book your ticket visit: http://www.catwestend.com

(Photographs: Alastair Muir- The Telegraph)

Happy New Year!

Well, by popular demand, 2010 (to be said as twenty ten- NOT two thousand and ten-  as a friend vehemently warned me) has arrived! Ooohh! How exciting!

My night consisted of a near collapse walking up Hamstead Heath, street mongrels and a marvelously greasy chicken and chips binge!

After much deliberation whether or not I was going to stay in, go out, stay in, go out, I decided on the latter. But not by free will. I was dragged out to be precise.

Now, if you’ve ever been to Mile End (East London) during the day, you’ll know it’s an area filled with scum. Now imagine it on not just any night, but on New Year’s flipping Eve. That’s right amigos, cue Who Let The Dogs Out. As I was walking to the bust stop, some crackhead, foaming at the mouth -who probably had rabies- jumps out at me (randomly) and shouts “What! What! What!” While his friends pull him back and apologise to me for his less than gentleman-like behaviour, I, unstartled, give the disgraced fool a blank stare. “Hmmm. Someone doesn’t want to see 2010″, I thought to myself before continuing my journey as if the incident was nothing but a daydream. I hadn’t even got to my destination yet!…..

The fiend in me loved seeing people running for the bus and missing it (that’s only because I was all snug and warm on the bus, of course). Hehehehe!

New Year’s Eve bus services are just like night bus services. The drivers show no mercy. If you’re not at the stop by the time the bus gets there or don’t request for the driver to stop , best believe your ass is being left behind.

I go jogging at least three times a week but for some reason, it felt like my heart was failing me just trying to get up the dam hill. When I finally got to the top of the Heath I felt like Rocky in that famous training scene. Da da daaaaa! Da da daaaaa!…

It was actually a very beautiful sight when I reached the top. The whole of London lit up to welcome the new year in! People were setting off lanterns into the night sky (on my way back home,some woman thought they were UFOs and took the liberty of filming them on her phone *shakes head*). “Who has the actual time in seconds?” A man shouted, “Freddy does” a random female voice replied. I looked at the Freddy she spoke of. He was conked out already. Great! Well, the key was in the wheel- the London Eye, that is. While some people had reached three in the countdown, others were still on 30. Sigh. The fireworks were nice, nothing particularly special or different. Glad I wore my wellies, though! I was not a fan of that mushy grass!

En route back home, I observed that Camden was full of people in a right state! My sober self loved it!….There was a plethora of scantily clad women walking about the streets of London. “Warm are we?” I shouted at one girl shivering as I put on my ever so warm gloves.

On the bus some drunk Asian guy shouted to a poor lady, who was minding her business “Hey, white girl! Would you like to see my dick tonight?” How romantic. I actually wanted to throw up! That’s nasty!

Belly grumbling and ten quid in pocket, I risked getting food poisoning by going into my local chicken and chips shop. Packed, I pushed my way forward and made my order of 2 pieces of chicken, 3 hot wings chips and a can of coke. New Year’s healthy diet= fail. Some guy took out his student card, hoping to get a discount. “No discounts tonight, mate.” the server said. “But I got one here this afternoon!”, he protested. What? You’re telling me that in the space of 24 hours, you’ve eaten this rubbish twice? Tut!

Anywho….This festive cheer will last for what? A good two, three more days? Then people will be back to normal: screw-facing, bitching et cetera et cetera!  One thing that will definitely be carried on into the new year is this cold weather! Brrrr!

All that’s left to say is, Happy New Year to the three of you that read my blog (my, myself and I). Hope it’s a year that’s filled with amazing experiences, accomplishments of new heights, few- if any- regrets, and most importantly growth. Whoop!

What did you get up to last night? Do tell!

Follow Rebecca-Monique on Twitter: www.twitter.com/RebeccaMonique

Google Glitch

I came across this print screen of a Google search. Speechless. I usually appreciate Google correcting my spelling when I’m not 100% sure on something,  but this is too much. What? Is Google all of a sudden a stereotype churner rather than a search engine?  Admitedly, this image made me ell oh ell (LOL) a little bit before actually going straight-faced in disgust. Maybe this indicates something about race relations in America, because, according to Google Insights, 100% of the people searching for “white people stole my car” were from the United States. Some say it’s a prank….. sigh.

Black Pearl Review: Avatar (/ˈævətɑː(r)/)

OK, so it’s a Monday evening, and I’m free as a bird. “What to do, what do?”, I ask myself as I tilt my head at two o’clock.  I know! (lightbulb moment) Go see that movie that’s been a trending topic on Twitter for the last week. “Avatar is friggen awsome” wrote one tweeter! Well, if it’s friggen awsome, I had better get down to the cinema to check this bitch out!

Now, I haven’t been to the movies for like, what, at least six years (don’t judge me!) so had no idea how much it cost anymore or even where the nearest one (projecting in 3D) to where I live is. So, as you do, I let Google do the talking and hey presto! Information at my fingertips! I could rant on about my reaction when my eyes beheld the actual price to watch the film (lawd! is that how much they charge these days?) but, that’s another blog entry all together. All I will say on the matter is five syllables: day-light-rob-e-ry!

So, I get there, queue up and wait to be served. To my misfortune, rowdy teenagers (I say that as if I’m an old foegey but I’m  really not much older than them) in front of me start giving me a damn headache before I even purchase my tickets.  They started debating about whether they should watch it in 3D or 2D. “2D blud, 2D!” said one attempting to convincingly pull off some swagger. I’d be ashamed to say that out loud. Why on earth they’d want to see it in 2D instead of 3D was beside me (truth be told, the cheapos just didn’t want to pay extra!). Why would that even be up for discussion? It’s like saying would you like to have your eyes to watch the movie? Erm, yes, please. ‘Twould help the viewing experience tremendously, no!? Then: “Wait!”, one of the girls proclaimed patting her impressively well gelled down side fringe “We can’t go in screen three cos it says ‘ere there’s no heating in there doe!” Is she being serious? Madame should have put on some clothes rather than taken them off before she left the damn house!

And talk about seeing a Z list celeb. Well, I suppose it’s debatable whether he’s even a celeb. No, I lie. What am I saying? It’s not debatable at all. Queuing up was Victor Ebuwa from Big Brother 5 (don’t ask how I remembered that, or him!) I almost didn’t recognise him with the extra dozen (OK I’m exaggerating a tad bit) pounds he’s put on. He ‘aint no celeb…Pahahaha! Ahem…

Finally, I hear the two words my ears were eagerly anticipating: “Next please”. About damn time (I’m kidding, I’m actually a very patient person, *coughNOTcough*)! After being corrected by the sternly obstinate guy at the ticket booth on how to pronounce Avatar, I developed somewhat of a dislike for the place:

Can I have two tickets to see Avaiter (that’s how I pronounced it) in ther-ree dee, please”, I said enthusiastically with an admitedly cheesy smile.

He inched closer to the glass, raising his immaculately plucked right eyebrow (which for some unknown reason,I couldn’t take my eyes off as he spoke). “You mean Av-at- ar!”, he said

As much as I appreciated him correcting me, my smile disappeared faster than a can of beer left alone in a room with an alcoholic. I replied in an aloof manner: “Oh, OK. Whatever the film’s called. You know which one I’m talking about.There’s only one that sounds remotely like what I just said”.

Well, excuse my ignorance but I’m not really into computer games so I had no idea it was an actual word, like in the actual dictionary:

Avatar /ˈævətɑː(r)/ DJ /’ævəˈtɑr/ KK:

a picture of a person or an animal representing a person on a computer screen, especially in a computer game or chat room.

Of course it all makes perfect sense to me now, 160 minutes and a consumed tub of popcorn later!

After finding a seat and tripping up a lady with my bag (accidentally, of course), who almost flew down the stairs and let out a squeal (Ratatouille is on DVD, love. Wrong movie. Should’ve stayed at home), I was ready to be sucked in with the masses to enjoy the spectacle (mind you, that lady should have watched where she was going).

And what visit to the cinema would be complete without a latecomer who insists on making you get up so they can sit in the few empty seats in the flipping middle of the row? They must have been eating their carrots because I don’t know how they spotted those seats in the dark! “Excuse me, please.” One of the pests whispered. “You’re excused”, I whispered back shooing her away. Fine! I got up. “You gonna give me back- in currency preferably- the 2 minutes I just missed?”, I thought. I kissed my teeth as loud as I could to express my disgust with their lack of punctuality but the popcorn in my mouth wasn’t having it and it sounded more like a slurp!

Anyway, I digress…. The film, directed by James Cameron (the same guy who directed Titanic), is about an ex-Marine who finds himself thrust into hostilities on an alien planet filled with exotic life forms. It’s set in the middle of the 22nd Century on a distant plannet called Pandora. Here, earthlings mine a rare mineral and try to maintain civil relations with the indigenous 10 feet tall, blue skinned people called Na’vi, who are understandably very protective of their sacred lands.

The earthlings have modeled organic avatars on Na’vi DNA which are controlled with a human consciousness. Cue (the ex-marine) Jake Sully (Australian actor Sam Worthington). Out of inquisitivity and sheer luck he gains access into the most suspicious of the local tribes. The earthling feel that  by setting up schools and teaching them English they will win the natives’ trust.

If Jake’s avatar can persuade the Na’vi into leaving their jungle home, then the situation would be a very amicable one. And so the adventure ensues…

There’s a Star Wars meets Lord Of The Rings vibe to the film, which is a good thing if you liked one or both of those films, a bad thing if you liked neither of them.

In all honesty, it took me about 45 minutes to get into it and for my eyes to adjust to the 3D projection. At first I was unconvinced of it’s greatness, thinking “Is this what I paid my money for?”, but to my delight, I found soon myself immersed .

I loved how at night, Pandora’s reinforest seemed to be transformed into a coral reef with phosphorescent glowing plants and the ground beneath their feet lights up as the Na’vi take each step (I couldn’t help but think of Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean music video). Beautiful, I thought.

The film is jam-packed with the typical binary oppositions of good versus evil, consumer wealth versus spiritual wealth, human versus alien and there’s a love story in there too!

The only criticisms I have are that 1) the 3D enhances the viewing but isn’t anything spectacular. and  2) The plot is kind of  lightweight, and slightly clishé. It’s typical of your standard bad guys with big machines trying to take over helpless indigenous people’s land narrative. In fact, it’s pretty much a blueprint of the film Dances With Wolves. Sorry, I had to say it.

I don’t want to ruin it for those of you who haven’t seen it yet but in it’s entirety, it’s a pretty darn good movie and I’d recommend it to anyone. Yes, it delivers on the hype and I can gladly say that it was worth my money. Every penny. Oh, and don’t be put off by the two and a half hour running time because it’s so good you won’t be clock-watching.

I give Avatar 8 pearls out of 10. I’d expect nothing less, considering it cost almost a quarter of a b-b-b-billion dollars to produce!

Follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/RebeccaMonique

Let the film’s trailer below wet your appetite

Violence and Abuse Against Young Women

Picture the following scenario if you may. A young lady going home (East London) on a dark winters evening- say around 7- from a long day at university. An African-Caribbean guy on his bike shouts “Oi, oi, oi, oi” as he rides past speedily almost startling this young lady. After mumbling a few words of discontent under her breath she gets over the near miss. To her dismay, the guy on his bike- now roughly 15 feet ahead-  looks back at her and does a u-turn. He approaches her on his bike, cycling around her. “You ‘aight baby?” He asks her with a slight patois in his voice. She ignores him. “Hello?, hello?”, he says still desperately trying to get her attention. “Can you leave me alone?”, she responds. “What?” he replies sounding upset at the dismissal. “You think you’re too pretty?”, he asks before gathering a mouthful of saliva and spitting on the left hand side of her face and in her eye. As she she reflexively swirls to her right in shock at what had just taken place- common assault- the offender rides off on his pedal bike faster than someone at the gym determined to lose a few pounds in one session.

Earlier today BBC London news reported the rise of sexual assault in London, with almost 100 reported cases of gang rape in the capital within the last year.

Two men who assaulted a girl aged 16 and doused her in caustic soda, disfiguring her for life, had their sentences increased on appeal.

In another case a 14-year-old girl was repeatedly raped ‘as punishment’ by nine members of a Hackney gang because she had ‘insulted’ their leader.

Deputy Chair of the London Assembly Jennette Arnold says that many young black men simply don’t have respect for females. That is certainly clear from all the above offences.

If you’re wondering who the young lady in the scenario was, it was me. The incident took place earlier this week only one minute away from my home. It left me more disillusioned with the behaviour of some young (black) men rather than shaken. Having been through 10 times more mental trauma in my young life, I suppose I found it fairly easy to deal with. That and the fact that my fiancé was there for me immediately after the incident. Even though he chased after the guy on the bike I’m glad he didn’t catch him because consumed with anger, his retaliation could have legally complicated the situation. The fact that I’m in a stable relationship allowed my general view of men not to be altered. After all, it’s unfair of me to tarnish all men with the same brush just because one imbecile showed utter disrespect to me.

Spitting is nasty, full stop but the sexual nature of his approach just made my skin crawl. To be honest, he belongs in the jungle if he considers that as being acceptable behaviour.  I mean, who honestly goes out of their way to do something like that?

I suppose by spitting on me, he thought I would feel degraded but I’m far too inwardly content with myself as an individual to let anyone make me feel worthless.

Without being patronising to myself, it could have been far worse. I could have been punched, slapped or kicked as well, or more seriously raped.

I don’t want to make it a race issue but unavoidably I was assaulted by a black male. I hate to say it but the stereotype prevailed. I could sit here all day debating, analysing and dissecting all possible explanations as to what may have driven him to behave in such a manner but I’d rather use my energy on something worthwhile that I can actually make a positively impact in mine or other people’s lives.

Of course, I reported the incident but only 10 minutes after it happened because felt that dialing 999 at the time would have been an futile attempt for the police to catch him, especially as my description of him was so vague. Unfortunately, the assault will probably just go down as another statistic of a reported but unsolved case. Although it may have been a one-off incident, I’ll definitely be investing in a personal noise alarm.

Useful links/numbers:

Police switchboard: 03001231212

Directgov page on rape and sexual assault