“Oh man, yeah, like my mum’s a refugee. I mean, she came here from Eritrea as an asylum seeker when she was quite young, much much younger than I am now, and she married this, like, working-class Welshman from Swansea, and they moved to Cardiff and had me. And like,” she gnawed at a hangnail on her left thumb, “I can’t go to Eritrea, yeah, and I can’t afford to go anywhere in Africa, at least not yet, so this way—like with this project—I’m a bit closer to the, like, handiwork of people with a similar experience to my mum. I think.” She laughed after a brief moment of silence. “You know, I
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