It is the order of the day. Whenever I’m talking to a fellow student, the “Omg I’m so broke” sentence will always stumble out of my mouth or theirs. Unfortunately, this fake-it-till-you-make-it lifestyle is something we can all relate to. Student loans don’t last forever.
However, I find it very ironic when they follow up by saying that they shop at Sainsbury’s. Well, hello? Of course you are broke! There is nothing worse that having to spend £1.50 for a bunch of small mushrooms. Not to mention, that the average shop of a Fallowfield student includes way more expensive items than some vegetables. Indeed, salmon and classy wines can be found amongst the ‘essentials’. But are they really essential? When I say that my £30 food shop will last me over two weeks, people look at me in amazement. How is this possible? Simple! Lidl.
Their slogan says it all: Big on quality, Lidl in price. Now, some may say, “Yeah fair enough, but is the quality really that good? It’s no ‘Taste the Difference’ is it?” Well, no. The pasta might go directly from raw to over-cooked without passing through the al dente phase and there might not be any Salmon & Ginger fishcakes but I never had any dysentery from eating Lidl food, and I have always found what I was looking for around its aisles.
Can dozens of drunken, annoying students really afford to be picky on food? There might not be as much choice at Lidl, but Sainsbury’s (at least the one in Fallowfield) is definitely bigger than any other Lidl I have seen. And alright, Lidl will never be a place for gourmet food, but if you are a nifty chef then I think you can transform any kind of food into a delicious dish. Or if you are not, I would still rather spend £0.35 on a pre-made tomato sauce than a £2 jar of pesto. At least this way I’ll still have the money to treat myself to a drink (or two) in Turtle Bay.
If someone mentions the words ‘comfort eating’, my mind usually goes straight to that episode of Friends. Specifically, where Rachel and Monica help Chandler through heartbreak with varying degrees of quality ice cream.
The conversation goes like this;
Chandler: “This ice cream tastes like crap by the way.”
Rachel: “Yeah, well that’s that low cal, non-dairy, soy milk junk. We save the real stuff for the truly terminal cases.”
Monica: “Yeah, when you start getting screwed over all the time you gotta switch to low fat.”
(I looked that up by the way — I may be a Friends fan, but I’m not that obsessed)
The thing is, this image saturates popular culture. A classic scene being Bridget Jones eating ice cream underneath a huge duvet. It always seems to be the combination of ice cream and heartbreak, huh. I mean, of course, there’s something oddly comforting and indulgent about spooning creamy ice cream straight from the tub.
But I want to redefine comfort eating.
Firstly, we need to step away from the stereotypes and realise a prejudice. if it wasn’t a slim white woman consuming ~2000 calories in one sitting, would we laugh fondly in the same way? Someone with a larger body would be condemned for being ‘unhealthy’ or promoting bad eating habits. Comfort eating is ‘quirky’ or ‘cute’ on one person but shameful on another. But being small doesn’t make you healthy, and being large doesn’t make you unhealthy (say it louder for those in the back). This mentality is indicative of the pervasive fatphobia and thin privilege that saturates Western culture.
With the rise of social media influencers, fitness, and wellness bloggers, its hard to wade through all the different information that bombards your screens every day. My Instagram feed, I must admit, fluctuates between videos of sensuous mac and cheese pulls to acai bowls and protein oats. I feel constantly torn between the swathes of messages: indulge! Treat yourself! (But only 20% of the time!)
And it always seems to come from the same sort of people. I’m not condemning every white female influencer, but I’m trying to be more aware of what messages I trust. Certain online personalities (I’m not going to name names) have come under fire for their involvement with the body positive movement. Seems counter-productive, right? But its because these people with their toned and perfect bodies — whilst probably incredibly healthy and hardworking — have appropriated the concept. Posting a before and after picture of your bloated belly post-pizza isn’t the same as inhabiting a larger body on a day-to-day basis and experiencing the unspoken prejudices that we like to ignore.
It’s the same issue as before, with comfort eating. And whilst I would love to fix all of these issues of fatphobia I don’t think I (as another slim white woman writing about food) can or should. But there might be another way. We can think of food, not through who is eating, or what we’re eating, but why.
Why does comfort or emotional eating necessarily mean sad? I feel comforted by food in so many other ways. There’s nothing better than takeout pizza and cheap wine when you’re celebrating the small stuff. Or a pie with lashings of gravy to warm you up after a long walk. Or a fresh, homemade salad after a week long all inclusive holiday: all these things make you feel good.
And the fact is, comfort eating is pretty much just (wait for it) … eating. Chemically, it’s impossible to consume food without releasing some dopamine. And sure, not everyone has this privilege of enjoying food, but we need to stop shaming the idea of eating for emotion when its one of the most precious things we have. It forms and sustains relationships, keeps us afloat when life feels too much and is the cornerstone for so many beliefs and traditions.
It’s time we re-think and re-define what we believe to be comfort eating. And along with this, think about the reasons why.
Never have I been so sure I would adore a production simply from the pre-set. The music and atmosphere on stage was electric, as the cast pulled audience members onto the stage for a faux cut in a barber’s chair or just to dance and enjoy the music.
Written by Inua Ellams and directed by Bijan Sheibani, Barber Shop Chronicles was amazing, in the perfect venue of the Royal Exchange (in association with Contact Theatre).
The production spanned across six cities: Johannesburg, Harare, Kampala, Lagos, Accra, and London. Inua Ellams writing weaves a story with connections between the different cities of varying subtlety. From a retold joke, to the same car poster, the same football game to talk about, and the same importance placed on the local barber shop.
This worked so well with the direction of Bijan Sheibani, in each scene when a relationship was mentioned, I found myself waiting to meet that person in a later scene or have different moments referenced. The production was constantly genuine and engaging, no character was overplayed.
The production had educational aspects aswell. Most notably, offering different perceptions of Mugabe and Mandela. The Western view of Mugabe is so firmly against him, but the Zimbabwean characters discussed the good Mugabe achieved and criticised the media for penalising him. Similarly, it was important to see Emmanuel Ighodaro’s devastating portrayal of how disappointed he was in Mandela’s Truth and Reconciliation approach after apartheid. Poignancy does not adequately explain the feelings evoked by Ighodaro.
Language in its many forms and styles was a great motif in the show. Inua Ellams’ writing balanced humorous differences in languages with genuine issues of miscommunication and division.
Possibly most comical was when a character (played by Jovi Servi) accused another man in the barber shop of besmirching Nigerian ‘Pidgin’ English with English. It was extremely amusing to listen to the group of men complain about their children using ‘proper’ English. Whilst hilariously delivered, this scene also acknowledged the worries of a loss in culture with a lack of language use.
The (perhaps) expected conversation about the n-word was also multifaceted in its portrayal in Barber Shop Chronicles. Discussion focused on reclaiming the word from being a derogatory term, as well as the word’s different endings (gg-er versus gg-a), but more unusually, there was a discussion the South African ‘equivalent’ term, ‘k*ffir’, a reminder that whether words are received as offensive can be geographically dependent.
Mohammed Mansaray and Anthony Ofoegbu had great chemistry in their London story line as Samuel and Emmanuel. Ofoegbu was a standout, as he struggled to run a busy barber shop whilst hiding multiple secrets and acting as a quasi-father figure to Samuel.
The scene changes were excellently choreographed by Movement Director Aline David. They were like mini parties in between scenes. The scene changes were accompanied by great music, often sung by the cast members, a wonderful mix of traditional music from the different countries. Mohammed Mansaray’s voice was a standout and the harmonies were a credit to the cast and the musical direction of Michael Henry.
Barber Shop Chronicles’ set design (Rae Smith) created such an immersive experience. The production was further elevated by the subtle changes in the types of barbershop chairs and reversible capes for different cities. The highlight of the set design was the enormous wire globe that spun and lit up the relevant city for the next installment of the story.
Elander Moore’s portrayal of a young actor questioning whether he could be cast as a ‘strong black man’ was beautifully handled. Barber Shop Chronicles did not shy away from discussing toxic masculinity and Ellams’ script created a thought provoking image of absent fathers and failed leaders, leaving your country or motherland, so eventually losing both parents.
We were left with the messages of the safety of a barbershop, where all opinions and feelings can be aired, Ofoegbu reminding the audience that the barbershop is a lighthouse, a place “where men can be men”.
Barber Shop Chronicles was a phenomenal piece of theatre and it is not to be missed, running at the Royal Exchange Theatre until 23rd March.
Candidates for the position of Students’ Union (SU) International Students’ Officer have been told not to expect a result until next Tuesday, almost two weeks after the announcement of all other Exec Officer positions.
The Mancunion understands that the delay is due to the fact an independent NUS panel responsible for dealing with complaints cannot meet until next week.
The delay comes despite the SU issuing a statement on Tuesday saying a result would be announced by the end of this week.
After last week’s dramatic results evening, the position of International Students’ officer has still not been declared due to the “unprecedented number of complaints” received by the SU about tactics used by certain candidates.
An official SU statement also revealed that action has been taken against “one or more candidates” in the category, but it remains unclear if this means candidates are suspended from the race, or if the statement is just referring to the campaigning ban.
Last week, The Mancunion revealed that Kwame Kwarteng, Dishika Bhalotia, Rana Phool, and Chaudry Anas Riaz had been banned from campaigning in person due to allegations of misconduct. The candidates were running on a ‘slate’ – or common platform.
The Mancunion has spoken to multiple candidates running for the position of International Students’ Officer tat are frustrated due to a lack of communication from the SU and the independent NUS appointed returning officer.
The statement released by the SU this week said: “In light of an eventful and unpredictable close to elections last week and in response to feedback from members which suggests there is confusion around some of the decisions made regarding newly elected officers, the Students’ Union wishes to clarify the position around the remaining vacant post and justify the actions taken to protect the democratic process.
“To ensure the integrity and independence of decision making in the Students’ Union elections, we appoint a Returning Officer who sits outside of the organisation and any structures within the Union. The Returning Officer applies rules and adjudicates on any complaints relating to candidates and the election itself.
“Throughout the voting period, we received complaints about a number of candidates across several roles which were reviewed and resolved by the Returning Officer. However, the election of the International Students’ Officer attracted an unprecedented number of complaints, which caused the Returning Officer to suspend the announcement and take action against one or more candidates. This action is subject to appeal to an independent group of people and they will adjudicate by the end of this week.”
As part of the Science and Industry Museum’s Culture Cure: Late event, Amy Vreeke performed an excerpt of The Year My Vagina Tried to Kill Me, a solo comedy theatre show about the decade she spent coping with and getting a formal diagnosis for her endometriosis. With endometriosis (a condition in which tissue similar to the lining of the uterus spreads or grows elsewhere) being such a prevalent disease that is inexplicably swept under the rug through a concoction of stigma and misdiagnosis, I was excited to see if the show would add something new to the growing discourse and awareness surrounding it.
Despite her skilful ability to blend sass and sincerity in her stage presence, Vreeke’s material faced a tug of war between the charming honesty of her true experience and the mild nod-inducing jokes that – although somewhat “relatable” in their deviations into the broader struggle of general life with a vagina – felt lacking in comparison to the exciting promise of its title.
Vreeke’s show gave her a platform to (rightfully) vent at her years of misdiagnoses. Perhaps this issue was still too close to home though, as her years of frustration were conveyed through an increasingly agitated repetition of similar jokes satirising the useless medical advice given over her decade-long struggle.
At first, Vreeke’s re-enacting of her medical consultations by placing the audience in her position was amusing as she nailed the uncomfortable drone of patronising medical professionals. However, given the 20-minute length of the performed excerpt, I was left underwhelmed by her choice in spending so much time on a limited range of jokes and felt it was unfortunate that she chose to remain in the safe, assured boundary of a head nod of audience approval rather than progressing to something more noteworthy.
This eventually stiffened the show into repeated vents of frustration through multi-roleplaying and peppered jokes about the advice given to her which stunted the piece’s cohesivity, leading it to feel like a well-constructed complaint as opposed to a fresh or profoundly comic take on the matter. As a result, I found myself moments ahead of Vreeke’s performance, already anticipating the next joke or punchline before its delivery.
This is not to say that the show was totally devoid of sparks of ingenuity or promise. Vreeke’s scrutiny of the embarrassment of speaking out about intimate issues highlighted those things we often suppress in order to appear as if we’re just “getting on with it”.
I found her observation on how autoimmune diseases can corrode pillars of your identity one of the most interesting observations made throughout. Vreeke’s overriding message of encouragement to refuse to be silenced and trust your own judgement was pleasant, it was just a shame that the fundamental basis of this show as a comic one was executed less successfully.
Overall, The Year My Vagina Tried to Kill Me felt somewhat flat and predictable in material despite my rooting for Vreeke’s frankness and important message throughout. The show fundamentally failed as a result of its uncertainty on what it was meant to be; an educational awareness talk or a comedy show? This lack of confidence in pursuing an angle or managing to blend the two without detracting from one another, meant the show fell short of the intrigue of its title.
The Twilight Sad are a Scottish indie gem. With praise coming from notable big names in music like Robert Smith, it was perhaps only a matter of time before the band really came to the recognition in which they now experience, following the release of their last album It Won/t Be Like This All The Time. That isn’t to say they are newcomers — the band has been together for a decade, and at the forefront of Scottish music for much of it. As they have progressed their music has delved into somewhat more experimental genres, with the opening synthesiser arpeggio of their opener ’10 Good Reasons for Modern Drugs’ sounding off almost like a post-apocalyptic warning siren.
It has been, to say the least, a difficult year for Scottish indie music. There have been many bright spots emerging in what is a very close knit scene, but understandably the sudden death of Frightened Rabbit’s Scott Hutchison sent a shockwave through all that knew him. Inevitably, this tragedy heavily impacted the content of It Won/t Be Like This All The Time, and I was curious to see as to whether the level of impassioned strain achieved on the album could appropriately translate to a live setting.
Indeed, the set was all about the new album, which was played in its entirety, accompanied by a handful of songs from previous albums. With many bands I would find myself irritated by such a setlist, bemoaning the fact they aren’t playing any of my favourite old songs of theirs. But that was not to be the case here — It Won/t Be Like This All The Time is a stellar album and absolutely some of the bands best work, and at no point did it ever feel like there was a lull in performance or that something was lacking. A mixed crowd of fans, young and old, were there belting out the lyrics as if they’d known them for years rather than a few weeks — although I’m not quite sure if any voice in the crowd could have matched the subtle inflictions of James Graham’s Scottish brogue.
Many critics have used many varying terms to describe the band, on a spectrum ranging from folk to noise, but in performance they absolutely fell closer to the latter. The band perfectly encompass the genre of post-punk in 2019. Thumping bass lines underpin harsh guitar tones, with Graham’s baritone ringing out clearly over the whirlwind of noise the band creates. Songs seamlessly bled into each other, with the band occasionally taking a second to speak into the crowd, either to give thanks or address an occasional heckler. Rather endearingly, the motif of the night seemed to be Graham going on about sparing us from his “shite patter”, to which the crowd obviously roared their support. But ultimately there was no need for speeches or waxing lyrical, for the music did all the talking.
Perhaps when the music spoke most profoundly was during the penultimate song, as the band launched into a cover of Frightened Rabbit anthem ‘Keep Yourself Warm’ unannounced. I recognised it almost instantly from opening chords, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t choke up a little. It’s a beautiful song, and the perfect choice for The Twilight Sad to cover. Nine months on from the death of Scott Hutchison he is still as sorely missed as ever, and this cover beautifully encapsulated just how much his work meant to a large group of people who find themselves turning to music as a means of understanding their emotional struggles.
The Twilight Sad will be wrapping up the first leg of their tour with performances in London and Glasgow before they embark stateside, where I hope they see the success over there that they absolutely deserve for putting out an album as fantastic as It Won/t Be Like This All The Time. As Robert Smith famously (at least amongst fans of the band) said: “If the world was a better place they would be playing to more people, and I think they can.”
Forest Tribe Dance Theatre’s Alluriat transformed a rather ordinary room in the Manchester Central Library into an underwater adventure. Intended as an immersive and interactive performance for 7-11 year olds, it certainly had me enticed too!
The set design by David Freedman was interesting and made up of different materials and textures, with the central element of a tent used to conceal and reveal props masterfully by performers Purvi Parmar and Jennifer Kay. Alluriat is also inspired by David Freedman’s poem of the same name.
The aim of this touring show (across different libraries) is to showcase libraries as important public spaces to engage children in. This is a great idea to engage children with libraries, especially in the current technological age. The performance was enjoyable and diverse but I felt the link to the library was rather tenuous, but perhaps it was enough to be using libraries as the performance venues?
The performance was completely non-verbal, Parmar and Kay were assisted by music, puppetry and their own movements to create the story. They were both impressive storytellers and were able to demonstrate clear emotions of love, loss and fear as they were consumed by waves and one character tried to search for the other. The abstract nature of the story focused more on evoking emotions that each person could interpret as their own version of a story, this was very successful and beautiful to experience.
The interaction and involvement of the children in the audience was balanced well and cleverly tactile, with pieces of fabric representing the sea and breaking of the fourth wall by Parma for the children to help her pass thread through a sail. My only criticism here would be that interaction was too focused on the front row and only once were the children at the back directly engaged, the show certainly lends itself to more involved interaction with all of the young audience.
Despite this, the most delightful aspect of this performance was watching the children react to the performance. Their willingness to wave in response to the puppets and to volunteer to become the face of the fish when called upon was nothing short of heart warming. Furthermore, their reactions really demonstrated the success of particular aspects of the performance.
The children responded to subtle facial expressions just as readily as the exaggerated comedic moments. They were also tangibly intrigued by the contemporary choreography by Debbie Bandara. The puppets and ‘holographic’ images of sea creatures projected on the tent were undoubtedly the biggest hit. My personal favourite of the puppets was a hermit crab, ingeniously created so that gloves could be used to operate the claws and legs in impressively life like movement.
This was a well-intentioned and nicely executed performance and the non-verbal nature really added to its accessibility. In my opinion the accessible nature if the production could be further heightened by the use of sign language as shown in shows such as The Forest of Forgotten Discos. Overall, it was a great step in the direction of re-engaging young people with the magic of story telling that doesn’t require a screen.
Ever since it was released as a browser game in 2000, Trials has always been a game of two parts. At its core is the central gameplay, the ongoing negotiation between thumb and tenuously balanced bike, and the imaginative obstacle tracks. And then there’s the rest, and there’s far too much of that in Trials Rising, a mechanically outstanding but bloated instalment in the Trials series.
The central conceit of Trials – the actual racing – remains as good as ever. The bike, which, as ever, balances as finely as a house of cards, is amazingly responsive and makes pushing your way through obstacles ludicrously fun. This is the crux of the game, and remains as strong as in Trials Fusion with a much-improved tutorial to help you master the finer details.
A nod, too, to the game’s overall slapstick humour. Banal as it might sound, watching your rider fall to his untimely death after each and every track is surprisingly satisfying, maintaining the light-hearted feel of Trials without sacrificing its rawness.
The game’s aesthetics also represent a major upgrade on last year’s bland, futuristic look. The move to the future was a promising one in Trials Fusion, but ultimately ended up being both blandly pedestrian and occasionally nauseating. This year’s instalment returns to its more rustic roots, presenting far grittier, rawer levels that play off the American obscure extreme sports culture whilst giving it a global twist by setting it all over the planet.
photo:Ubisoft
As aforementioned, however, this Trials game has an awful lot of blubber. Of particularly worthy mention are the loot-boxes, which present such a vast, uninteresting array of cosmetics as to be unwieldy. Ubisoft and Redlynx are admittedly generous with their distribution of these, but their inclusion still contribute to the superfluity of a series much better suited to being streamlined.
With all of these cosmetic options, a haphazardly presented world map, and somewhat counter-intuitive menu screens, Trials feels a little cluttered. Add to this the sometimes cringey dialogue and jokes dotted throughout the game, the shoe-horned ghost riders and the obnoxious soundtrack, it all feels a little like Trials Rising is clamouring for your attention in a slightly over the top way.
The thing is, Trials, you had our attention from the start. Once you strip away all of the game’s grandstanding and bravado (I did this through muting the vast majority of the game and turning off the ghost-riders), you have the deepest, most expansive, visually appealing and mechanically thorough Trials game yet.
Football Manager has always been a series that demands more of your time than the ordinary game. With its ability to live off football’s perpetually self-producing narrative, its extraordinary depth, and its meticulous stat-tracking, its an experience that often ends up taking 400 hours rather than 40 for many players.
However, the further you go in the game, the less and less predictable it becomes, moving away from Sports Interactive’s tightly curated, ruthlessly accurate starting database into the swampier waters of a fully generated footballing universe. Today, I look at how it copes with this transition.
Of course, this is somewhat a fated exercise in new games journalism. To say that my save is representative of all saves is probably untrue, but, considering I used fairly typical starting settings and was not in a position to influence the game’s upper echelons until at least 2027, it seems a fair sample.
My career started very innocuously with Harrogate Town, with who I achieved precisely nothing for two and a half years before I upped sticks and moved, quite undeservingly, up a division to manage League 2 strugglers Stevenage. It was there my career quickly took flight. Having found my feet tactically, I achieved two promotions in four years.
Having established a tenuous foothold in the Championship with Stevenage, Leeds came calling, and I guided them to the Championship title on the first time of asking. A successful but sometimes frustrating spell in the premier league eventually culminated in Manchester City hiring me, and, a mere thirteen seasons and 570 hours after starting with Harrogate Town, I was lifting the Premier League trophy, FA Cup and Champions League treble.
photo:SportsInteractive
One enduring thing I noticed throughout this time was how competitive the game remained. In previous installments, I’ve observed a distinct lack of ambition even from the world’s biggest clubs, but this is not the case in FM2019.
Indeed, regardless of whether I was struggling at the bottom of the Vanarama National or flying high at the top of the Premier League, FM always kept me on my toes, with tactics needing frequent tweaking to prevent them from coming stale, and other teams constantly upping the ante in order to compete. Even at City, it never got too easy.
However, it was a shame to see that this competitiveness rarely extended to lower league teams, who rarely got much further than a league or two above where they start. After almost 15 years, the make-up and mini-league structure of the Premier League was still very much intact, which is either an accurate simulation of how the money now in the league will affect the future, or a gross disservice to the ambition in the football league. Clubs seem to get stuck in endless yo-yo cycles of promotion and relegation, while the also-rans remain in situ for long periods.
photo:SportsInteractive
The player base itself becomes much less interesting as the game progresses. Over time, I’ve noticed that regens (more accurately newgens) typically tend to be quite boilerplate stats-wise, with few of the weird and wonderful Fellainis or Thomas Mullers around to provide something different. An absolute abundance of deep-lying playmakers is a particular frustration when trying to build a balanced squad.
Indeed, there are several player roles – such as the box-to-box midfielder, ball-winning midfielder, complete wing-back and false 9 – that die out almost completely, which is a shame considering the variety present in modern football. It should be noted, however, that this is less the case than in FM18, which was even more extreme in this regard.
Players also tend to be shorter and more well-rounded. Whilst this campaign against target-men frustrated me at first, it had an interesting effect on the meta. Because most squads were composed of relatively short, fast players, I found that I could gain a sizeable advantage at set-pieces by signing bigger, stronger players, or by floating crosses to an aerially adept striker. Additionally, the relative paucity of defensive midfielders, especially those adept at pressing roles, meant that deploying a pressing defensive mid gave me the upper-hand in most midfield battles. Elsewhere, the lack of good attacking full-backs with strong crossing and/or dribbling stats meant that I didn’t need to guard against overlaps so much and could, accordingly, deploy more attack-minded wingers.
Perhaps even more unlike real football, there is an absolute abundance of good strikers compared to most other positions. This has the effect of making strikers relatively cheap, whilst good goalkeepers and defenders became exorbitantly expensive.
In some ways, I consider these things detrimental to the late-game, but on the other hand, it created an effect where, as a manager, I had to adjust to the changing trends of the market and make tactical tweaks to deal with quicker, smaller, but more technically able players. Seeing the effects of this in a simulation was certainly interesting, even if it became exploitable. Even without giving specifics, it was very satisfying to analyse changing trends in global football and have to adjust accordingly.
Sports Interactive, however, have failed once again in making their regens resemble anything close to human beings, let alone athletes at peak physical condition. A minor and superficial criticism this may be, but it can be irksome when your squad is filled with guys who look like they’re wearing someone else’s face.
A lot of what I said about FM after 40 hours would still stand now, perhaps even more so. In particular, press conferences have become a real bain of my existence, whilst player interaction seems no less shallow for more play time. The same can be said for player personalities, which remain woefully underdeveloped in comparison with tactics.
Nonetheless, the fact that FM has remained so very durable speaks for itself. If any game can encourage you to sink a statistically significant portion of your life into it, that’s probably not a bad thing (well, at least not for Sports Interactive – my personal life is another matter entirely), and Football Manager 2019 remains a master of addictiveness.
To call the Yakuza series, as others have put it, the “Japanese GTA” would be doing it a massive disservice. Granted, it’s a nominally open-world series about crime, but that’s where the similarities end. The Yakuza series is a masterclass in storytelling through the medium of video games, and has a unique flair that no Western series has yet been able to pull off.
In 2006, the first Yakuza game burst onto the scene to universally positive reviews; its satisfying fighting mechanics, intricate story, and baffling sense of humour marked it as a fresh new addition to the scene. Now, SEGA have released the 2017 remake, Yakuza: Kiwami, on PC, so players can experience the story in higher resolution than ever before.
Being a remake of the first game in the series, Kiwami attempts to smooth out some of the roughness of its source material, but some things remain – long, drawn out boss fights, a lack of explanation of the game’s mechanics, and an infuriatingly high number of random encounters, making it hard to traverse the game’s beautiful and lovingly crafted world. That said, the fights are rarely boring; with four battle styles to choose from, and a huge array of special ‘heat actions’, every fight is kept fresh.
In light of what I said in the title, Yakuza takes the opposite approach to the open world than that of the GTA series. Instead of gigantic maps full of just about nothing – repeated trees, areas, and shopfronts, the world of Kamurocho is small but densely packed; it really does feel alive.
The story is captivating and multi-threaded in a way most other games have not been able to capture, and keeps you guessing from start to finish; sometimes I did find that I’d lost track of characters or plotlines because there were that many, something later games have improved upon. The story writers had not yet found their feet, and while the story is still brilliant, it doesn’t quite have the black humour captured in the game’s 2015 prequel, Yakuza 0.
I must also give credit to the localisation team; while I don’t speak Japanese, it feels like everything from idioms to characters’ accents have been translated, reliably capturing the story, and without losing the uniquely Japanese feel to it.
All in all, Yakuza: Kiwami is a must-play for any PC or PS4 gamer out there, and is sure to get anyone hooked into the series.
Roman Armstrong described the original ideas behind The Greatest Tory Ever Told, as a funny piece of Tory propaganda and challenging himself to be nice about Conservatives.
He explained: “the fact that I disagree [with the Tories] got lost in translation” in the first versions of the play. Roman expressed the hope that he’s achieved clarity by “bashing all political sides” and show that everyone’s human. Also, importantly, not all the characters are politically drive as he is keen not to overwhelm the audience with politics.
“I hate being told to have an opinion”, Roman wants the audience to make up their own minds.
Roman also does stand-up comedy and explained the difference in writing this play for a cast rather than for a solo performance. It’s important to him for the cast to feel comfortable in the play he feels like he has taken on board people’s suggestions and opinions: “they’re proud of being in [the play] and I think you can tell when you see the show.”
When asked to explain the most difficult areas to incorporate in the play, Roman mentioned gender and explained that it is important to have a dialogue because to him “the joke was clear” but cast conversations initially revealed otherwise.
Roman hoped the pun of the play’s title would suffice in signposting that this show is a “pisstake”, but he has not been afraid to rewrite scenes to incorporate cast and creative dialogue.
Another foundation of Roman’s writing came from the assumptions people have made that he votes Tory (which he doesn’t). He explained his own difficulty in discovering a friend of his voted Tory, coming to terms with it and recognising, he is still human and they’re still friends.
I also asked Roman if he thinks jokes need to be offensive to be funny. He explained that “essentially all jokes include something being mocked”, but the funniest jokes don’t have to be “the most offensive”. Roman explained: “when I do kids parties, of course I don’t use ‘Greatest Tory’ material” but they do respond to him being a fool and mocking himself. He added: “for me, I like offensive jokes” if they’re rightly balanced and “there is a difference between it being a joke and statement”.
Nick Bond, who plays Cameron, added that The Greatest Tory Ever Told “is not about politics,” it’s about “learning to accept other people for their differences”.
In closing, Roman said of The Greatest Tory Ever Told, “it’s so silly” and “if you like Monty Python and the Inbetweeners” then come see the show. This play invites us to see the play and make up our own minds.
In Brixton, twins Nora and Dora Chance share a birthday with Shakespeare (23 April) and began the show celebrating their 75th birthday. They are estranged from their wealthy actor father Melchior Hazard who also shares their birthday.
This show was utterly unique, capturing and delighting my imagination. The story follows stories across multiple generations, incredibly using actors of all shapes, genders and races to take us through the life (and lies) of the Chance sisters.
Emma Rices adaptation of visionary Angela Carter’s final novel, Wise Children, launching her new theatre company of the same name and its London residency at The Old Vic. Emma Rice is clearly out to create a phenomenon with her theatre company, born out of Rice’s own infatuation with Angela Carter’s work. She really captures the sentimentality of Shakespeare as well as the magical realism of the play and the mystical connections with the story and its three sets of twins.
Photo: @Steve Tanner
As a fan of Carter’s work myself, I know that everything she wrote has intentional and powerful meaning. The creative adaptation and its incorporation of song and dance contrasted well with the dark parts of the plot. The choreography was immaculate and somehow decadent, with beautiful balletic movements along with bawdy, jaunty choreography. Standouts included Melissa James and Omari Douglas as the young adult Dora and Nora Chance respectively. They worked stunningly together and portrayed gorgeous showgirls who were also struggling with their identities. Douglas, in particular, had an incredible stage presence and a beautiful singing voice.
The other standout was Katy Owen as Grandma Chance. She was simply hilarious and virtually unrecognisable when she appeared again as a teenage Imogen Hazard. The audience were frequently left in fits of laughter by her crass humour and unexpected stripping.
It was heart-wrenching to experience the pain of the Chance sisters, as they were constantly ignored by Melchior, and also there was uncertainty around whether he is actually their biological father. It was to the credit of the performers and direction that the emotional moments were just as impactful as the comedic ones.
The set design was truly incredible. With open wings and a moving caravan, the audience could experience every element of both the showgirl life and the ordinary life the Chance sisters lived. The actor-musicians was a beautiful and immersive touch which worked perfectly in the context. The set was stylistic and stunning, there was always so much to look at but this never became overwhelming. The exposed nature of the set mirrored the expose people and characters.
Wise Children is bizarre and captivating and so much more than you could ever expect. We were left with the beautiful voice of Mirabelle Gremaud and the cast singing ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun’ in a beautiful folk style, and the phrase: “What a joy it is to dance and sing!” and this show was certainly a gloriously chaotic and beautiful show to behold.
Wise children is touring across the country until 6th April.
I got back to Manchester on Sunday, climbed the stairs to my flat, unlocked my bedroom door and was instantly greeted by last year’s Valentine’s Day card and a few Polaroids of him on the wall. Erghhh. I mumbled several expletives and reached for my phone. Then, I texted Will, asking him to come round as soon as possible. I needed someone to ‘desensitise’ my room. Seconds later, I received the response: “I’m coming now”.
Surviving heartbreak “takes a village”, says Lindsay Holland, and I am inclined to agree.
I had been at home for a week at my parents’ house, to sort out the mess of the break-up. I had very little intention of going back to Manchester. Home was safe. I did not have to explain myself to anyone, nor did I have to maintain my weekly routine. That would do, I thought, at least for the foreseeable future. I thought that was what I needed. But that week, I knew my mum was skirting around the big question: “When are you going back to university?”
A lot of friends would ask me that in the following days.
One friend did when she took me for dinner the day after it all ended, repeatedly telling me I was putting myself first and how great that really was. She made a promise to come up to Manchester the following week, knowing I needed encouragement. That same day, I received a text from Will: “Let me know when you need/want me and I’ll be there… Just come home when you are ready.”
But Manchester had not felt like home. The relationship had been a long-distance one. I was in Manchester, he was in London. I had spent the last two years as a ball in a Manchester Piccadilly/London Euston table tennis grand slam. Continually, I had shot across the bleary English countryside, back and forth, charting the gap between North and South more times than I care to mention. I had spent more of my weekends in London with him than I had in Manchester. If called upon, I could describe the interior of a Virgin train in excruciatingly fine detail and I am now even certain of my favourite seat combination.*
(*Forward-facing window seat — and a proper window, not the corner end — without a table, and close to the baggage racks. Ideally situated in coaches D or E, but this could be forgiven.)
I regularly deserted the city I had once been so desperate to be a part of. I would leave Manchester Piccadilly carrying guilt along with my weekend bag. As the train pulled out from the station, I would find myself half apologising to the tops of the Principal Hotel or the Hilton strutting out in the skyline. I had promised to stay longer this time, to get to know them better. But he had work commitments and I agreed to go down to London this time. And the next time. And the time after that. I would keep my head sheepishly lowered until I made it safely past Macclesfield. I was cheating the city that had accepted me.
When I was not neglecting Manchester, I was sharing it with him. I never considered whether it wanted to be shared, or whether I was meant to be forging and nurturing my own relationship with the city. I made Manchester a permanent third wheel as I paraded him around The Lowry, Affleck’s or Salford Lads’ Club. The relationship was complicated from all angles.
Will arrived at my flat in the time it took me to take the Polaroids down from the wall. I shoved them into a drawer (they’re too expensive to bin) and I shoved the card into a black bag. “Is that it? I was hoping for something a bit more dramatic,” he said, slightly disappointed.
But it did not need to be dramatic, or damning. I was out the other side of it the moment I stepped off the train. Manchester had flicked the switch. He was not to blame, and nor was I. We had coped, but we were not happy, fighting from opposing ends of the M1.
In all this time Manchester has never changed, but I see it differently now. Now, I can go to The Lowry entirely consumed by the landscapes of the city without thinking of him. I can pass Chinatown without wincing at the memory of a particularly bad argument we had on the street outside a karaoke bar. (I should have known it was over as we shouted above a tone-deaf rendition of Queen’s ‘I Want to Break Free’. Or at least seen the signs, perhaps.) Now, I can laugh. Particularly when I pass the same lit-up joint late at night, as a friend proclaims: “Karaoke sucks, doesn’t it?”
I still take the train from Manchester Piccadilly but instead of heading south, I go up: to Leeds, York or Durham. I’m learning to nurture the North. I have strikingly little time left with it now. Right now, I am in my final semester of final year, and I need to absorb the grandeur of the Principal Hotel and marvel at the city from the top of the Hilton before I go.
I respect him, but I respect my city more. It wrapped around me, it protected me on long walks home alone late at night, it accepted me back after each and every time I deserted it.
Lindsey Holland was almost right. Surviving my break up didn’t take a village. It took the city of Manchester instead.
Kwame Asamoah Kwarteng, a candidate who was banned from campaigning due to allegations of misconduct, has been elected General Secretary of the University of Manchester Students’ Union (SU).
Four candidates, running on a ‘slate’ – or a common platform – were banned from campaigning in-person in the final days of voting after some students accused them of snatching their phones to then vote for themselves. Some students also told The Mancunion that they were “intimidated” by the candidates. The candidates appealed but the ban was upheld.
Rana Phool, who was also banned from campaigning, was elected to become the inaugural Postgraduate Officer.
At a dramatic results evening, the position of International Students’ Officer wasn’t declared due to allegations of misconduct. The Mancunion understands that a result is expected from the 11th of March.
In a statement, an SU spokesperson said: “Following a number of complaints about four candidates in the Manchester Students’ Union Elections 2019, the independent Returning Officer reviewed the evidence provided and came to the conclusion that these candidates should be banned from further physical campaigning until the close of polling.”
The other two slate candidates were Anas Riaz and Dishika Bhalotia, who ran for the Activities and Development and the International Students’ Officer roles respectively.
Riaz lost in the last round of voting to incumbent Lizzy Haughton by just 39 votes, and Bhalotia will not know her fate until an NUS Returning Officer concludes their investigation into candidate-wrongdoing.
Dylan Routley, who stood for the position of Welfare and Community officer, told The Mancunion: “As somebody who ran in this election in a separate category this is really disappointing, not only does it undermine the whole point of elections but it diminishes the hard work of so many candidates.
“[It] also demonstrates a new level of sh*thousery from the SU & NUS [as] the candidates involved were reported several times and received no sanction.”
When asked by The Mancunion about the accusations during the campaign, the newly elected General Secretary Kwame said: “[The allegations] made me stronger. They realised they had a tough competitor and so they had to do anything to draw me down. For me, it is part of the competition and you will always have these things happening. For me, it just made me stronger. it made me and my team extremely stronger.”
The newly elected Postgraduate Officer Rana Phool said: “To be very honest, this has affected me a lot. Everyone now knows that our slate has been accused of numerous things, but I was not accused of anything personally throughout the process.
“It saddens me, but at the same time, it makes me strong. I have to rise above, inshallah I will do this and I will prove everything wrong.”
Another surprising result was incumbent Education Officer Olivia Meisl’s loss to Chloe Salins, who said: “I don’t think it’s been the smoothest of campaigns, but overall most candidates I can honestly say hand on heart they deserve it. Stuff happens but the right people will win.”
The other new Exec team members include Ayla Huseyinoglu, who takes over the Women’s Officer role from Sara Heddi. The 2019/20 Exec team will still contain a Sara however, as incumbent Access and Liberation Officer Sara Khan comfortably retained her role.
Adam Haigh, notable for his campaigning work with anti-climate change activist group Extinction Rebellion, was elected as the new Welfare and Community Officer. When interviewed by The Mancunion shortly after his victory, he said that candidates who were banned from campaigning could potentially have been disqualified: “There are some candidates who I potentially would have suggested should have been disqualified because of there actions, but I guess the NUS has decided that there isn’t enough evidence at the moment.”
7,771 students voted in the 2019 SU elections, a turnout of around 19.4%. This is down slightly on 2018’s 19.8% turnout. SU elections rarely see high turnouts, with previous years recording figures of 16% in 2017 and 28% in 2016. Prior to that, 2015 was a record high of 34.4%.
One anonymous student said: “If the SU has any shame they will make sure that the people who cheated and then got elected step down or resign. Cheating is fine as long as there is no clapping at the students union.”
Anuli Changa, a third-year Law student added: “If there is enough damning evidence of the misconduct thenthose candidates should be removed, it’s about the perception of misconduct as much as proven misconduct because if people don’t believe that the elections are fair, the executive officers lose authority.”
Prasham Sheth, a first-year economics student said: “The SU elections did not decide who’s the best for the roles, but it decided who was the best at marketing. In the first three days, those who voted probably didn’t even know who or what they were voting for, quite a few people randomly voted just to get the free stuff.”
Jack Swan, a second-year Politics and Sociology student said:” One thing I noticed in the campaign is the winning slate had an absolutely huge volunteer team. I’m not saying that that’s a bad thing – if anything it’s a very healthy sign for student democracy – but the SU should offer more to regulate and train not just candidates but their volunteers.
“We already make sure candidates have a level playing field for finances, so we should do our best to make sure that voter canvassing is subject to the same standards of fair play. All candidates should know how to build their teams, what they can and can’t do, and how to use them to best effect.”
The athletes of the University of Manchester were back at this week with another round of fixtures. For some students the seasons are winding down, for others they are only just beginning, and for a lucky few, silverware is on the cards.
Manchester United weren’t the only side to grab a thrilling victory in Europe this week. The University of Manchester Women’s badminton team travelled to Sheffield, often called the ‘Paris of Yorkshire’ for its historic architecture and streets filled with people you can’t understand, with hopes of lifting the Northern Conference Cup.
Like United under Solskjær, the women’s side have been undefeated so far this season, even grabbing a victory against opponents Sheffield last month. The stage was set for a thrilling encounter, a final that promised some of the best badminton you could possibly see in a regional student league.
The venue, Goodwin Sports centre, is often called the ‘Parc des Princes of Yorkshire’ for its raucous atmosphere and was a perfect place for such an occasion. Named after steel magnate Sir Stuart Goodwin, often called the ‘Andrew Carnegie of Yorkshire’, the deep, centuries-old history of this 60-year-old sports centre adds another dimension to this clash of titans.
As soon as the games kicked off however, Manchester’s women looked at ease. There are numerous comparisons to be made to the German football side that placed Brazil in Belo Horizonte at the 2014 World Cup. They were organised, disciplined, and clinical, level-headed when it mattered most. They also won 7-1.
I don’t know what the German for ‘it’s coming home’ is, but home it has come. Another week, another title. Another trophy for the cabinet. That day, 6th March 2019, will live be remembered forever as the day when the talented women of the University of Manchester won the BUCS Badminton 2018-19 Northern Conference Cup, or by it’s more commonly used name, the ‘Champions League of Yorkshire’.
Elsewhere this week the men’s hockey 3rd team was also involved in a top-of-the-table clash against Edge Hill 1st’s which ended 5-5.
Lastly, the women’s netball 5th team put on a show at the Armitage Centre to beat the University of Central Lancashire’s 2nd team 66-29. Taking their record to an incredible eight games played, eight games won and a goal difference of 276.
Pizza, fries, milkshake, pie… It all sounds like you’re perched on a stool in an American diner. But no, this is not the menu of the new restaurant on campus, nor is it my food diary for the past week. This, believe it or not, is your Students’ Union election voting pamphlet. Yes, that’s right: instead of the traditional officer roles that annually occupy the tree-space outside the Ali G, this year we are voting for obesity.
Okay, perhaps I exaggerate. However, take yourself over to the Students’ Union’s website and I promise you, you will find the exact phrase “daily incentives“, followed by an enticing list of potentially mouth-watering options, or a serious health risk, depending upon your point of view.
I hate to mention that which should not be named, but if there is surely one thing that we should have learnt from Brexit, it would have been to encourage people to embark on some form of research before signing the dreaded ballot paper laden with the power to change all of our livelihoods.
I will accept a certain amount of disagreement with the fact that the results from the SU elections are not overly comparable to a potential split from the European Union. However, we all saw the numerous testimonies of those who voted to leave and yet, quote, “To be quite frank, I did not believe it would happen”.
Whichever side you vote for, and for whichever campaign, the central most important element of such a process is that you are given a choice, and that you make the best choice for you.
The only way you can do that is, if you have completed and understood a certain amount of research and consequently you agree with the choice you are making. In my opinion, only then would the result be a fair representation. To cast a vote without understanding what for completely undermines the entire process.
Therefore, I have to say that I fundamentally disagree with this incentive process. You cannot grab people sauntering out of lectures, or swanning past the SU, dangle a slice of pizza in front of their face, and promise the prize, so long as they can pin the tail on the donkey, and pop a cross somewhere on the electronic screen in front of them.
If people have not researched the candidates, if they do not understand the roles themselves, they have a one in however-many-candidates-are-running chance of ticking the box that applies to them and to their beliefs.
The past two years and eight months have cast a political shadow over our country. This is not because we voted a certain way, but because people voted without understanding what for. It therefore casts doubt as to whether the outcome resonates with the majority of the population, as a voting system is designed to determine.
I agree, electing the new General Secretary, Women’s Officer and so on, as important as it is, is not the same as choosing whether to leave a political and economic partnership which will have repercussions for trade, the economy and state relations.
Nonetheless, I cannot help but feel, that encouraging positive habits and a positive attitude towards elections at this age may help prevent future democratic disasters, such as that for which the majority of our stomachs are simultaneously sinking as we await the 29th March.
“And Solskjaer has won it!” The famous words of Clive Tyldesley were echoed at full time on Wednesday night as Manchester United triumphed against all odds to beat Paris-Saint Germain 1 -3 at the Parc des Princes.
Nobody expected United to win, they weren’t supposed to win. Written off by many with the absence of ten first team players. A bench that included four academy graduates. Having to overturn a deficit of two away goals. It all looked to be too much for Ole Gunnar Solskjaer’s side, but as he said after the game, “this is what we do”. On an unforgettable night at the Parc des Princes, Manchester United created history in becoming the first side to recover from a two goal first leg home defeat to progress to the quarter-finals of the biggest of all club competitions.
As Manchester United lined up with a midfield of Scott McTominay, Andreas Pereira, and Fred you couldn’t help but think this is a midfield that wouldn’t look out of place in the reserve side. But, with United’s favoured midfield all out through either injury or suspension it fell to the youngsters to outplay the likes of Marco Veratti, Angel Di Maria, and Julian Draxler. Solskjaer’s game plan was simple; grab an early goal and remain in the game with 20 minuets to play. And that’s how it went.
With just under two minutes played at the Parc des Princes PSG’s Timo Keher, unaware of his surroundings, played a sluggish back pass to Gianluigi Buffon, with Romelu Lukaku being quickest off the mark to run on to the ball, shrugging of a challenge from Thiago Silva, rounding the keeper and score his first of the night. The plan was set in motion, Manchester United had their early goal and it was now all to play for in Paris.
From here on in PSG began to play with the quality that saw them comfortably slot two goals past Manchester United in the first leg. Juan Bernat and Angel Di Maria left makeshift right back Eric Bailly on the back of his heels as they teamed up to whip in a low cross that was inches away from an Mbappe equaliser. The home fans didn’t have to wait for long, as Mbappe fizzed a ball across the six yard box for Juan Bernat to tap in.
With Manchester United back to square one, and needing two goals to progress, all eyes were on this inexperienced side to see how they would respond. PSG though had other ideas and continued their relentless assault on Eric Bailly. Dani Alves struck a volley over the bar from 12 yards out whilst goal scorer Juan Bernat tested the palms of De Gea. A second goal looked imminent for PSG and would most likely have ended Manchester United’s slim chance of progression.
A rare Manchester United attack on the 30thminute saw Marcus Rashford hit a dipping shot at the hands of Gianluigi Buffon. What looked so simple for Buffon turned into a calamity as the World Cup winner fumbled the ball in to the path of Romelu Lukaku to complete his third brace in as many games. Manchester United led at the break.
After some scintillating football in the second half, PSG looked like they’d found their opening, but a delightful lob by Angel Di Maria was flagged for offside. As the clock ran down Manchester United patiently waited for their opportunity to attack and with 20 minutes remaining Solskjaer had his wish; they were still very much in this tie.
Manchester United began to push up the field chasing the goal that would send them through to the quarter finals, their efforts instead saw them caught out of position and as PSG top scorer Kylian Mbappe ran through on goal it looked as if they would be going home instead. A slip though saw the chance squandered as Chris Smalling topped off an excellent performance block the effort. This dramatic game of twists and turns continued as United continued to push forward, winning a corner from a blocked Diogo Dalot shot.
With Solskjaer in the dugout there was hope of creating a similar ending to his famous winner in the 1999 Champions League final. Instead, a new kind of drama was to unfold as referee Damir Skomina was alerted to a possible handball by PSG defender Kimpembe, as a United free kick deflected on to Kimpembe’s arm with his back turned. Tense moments awaited as VAR reviewed the incident and awarded a contentious penalty in the 94th minute. Up stepped Marcus Rashford for his first ever Manchester United penalty, slotting past Buffon from 12 yards out to send Manchester United through to the quarter-finals and PSG crashing out.
In a game dominated by VAR talk, Manchester United were not the better side, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t deserve to go through. Solskjaer has brought back the fighting mentality that is so often associated with previous United sides. With nine away wins in a row the announcement of Ole Gunnar Solskjaer as the permanent Manchester United manager is looking inevitable.
In the other dugout, times are more difficult for PSG manager Thomas Tuchel. With PSG expected to cruise to a Ligue 1 title each year, the Champions League offers a chance for them to prove themselves as one of Europe’s elite, but, with seven losses in there previous twelve knockout games the Parisians have again fallen short of European glory, and for most in the French capital that is enough to see the manager lose his job.
Up Next Manchester United will look to continue their impressive run of away wins as they travel to the Emirates Stadium on Sunday to face Arsenal in a highly anticipated fixture as both sides look to put a dent in their oppositions fight for top four.
Shamima Begun was ridiculed; her story evoking intense and genuine anger. A natural response, it seems, with the general UK population’s consensus being: ‘you made your bed, lie in it’.
That still doesn’t mean it’s okay to tweet that you ‘hate to say it but you agree with Katie Hopkins for once.’ I might have to unfollow you.
At just 15 Shamima Begum was cruelly stripped of her life and recruited to an evil, murderous cult. Meanwhile, I, at the same age, was happy, unknowingly naïve, and enjoying a safe and healthy teenage life.
Too young to buy alcohol, too young to vote, too young to give consent, and too young to make any life-altering decisions. At this age, young brains are easily led by an illusory prospect of security.
Surely as compassionate beings, we have to think about what’s underlying, or lacking, in our society to make anyone feel as though they are in need of protection and safety elsewhere.
We must ask ourselves, why is this extremist group known for its misogynistic ideology and violent treatment of women able to draw women from Western countries with supposedly secular freedom to its beck and call? Begum was a mere child; brainwashed and manipulated into a marriage that removed her from her innocent adolescence.
Of course, allowing her back to the UK may impose security threats to an unknown extent, but I think that the UK has the right resources to counteract this and that stripping her of her UK citizenship was a mistake.
The UK should be competent enough to take responsibility for its nationals and commit to engaging victims of extremist grooming in rehabilitation and restorative justice.
Forcing Begum to live outside of her home country is only a temporary solution, if any. After all, millions of pounds are pumped into the Prevent scheme and others for the exact purpose of addressing and understanding the process of radicalisation.
It is arguably the hostility and maltreatment felt by Muslim citizens in the UK and the racist migrant rhetoric that pervades the UK media that constrains the lives of many Muslims.
We should bring Begum home when she admits that she is “willing to change” so that we can understand her story, trauma, and psychological vulnerabilities. This is fundamental if we are to tackle the radicalisation problem in the UK.
We can counter the misconception of Islam in our society and media by recognising the ample condemnations of ISIS by Muslims. Such a counter-narrative, enriched with well-grounded Islamic identity values, is crucial in rehabilitating mainstream Islamic theology.
I think that the majority of the UK Muslim community would be willing to support Begum in her rehabilitative process as many will believe it is an obligation of the compassion of their faith. Islam is a religion of peace that compels all humans to be treated with compassion, and it is this message that needs to be promulgated.
World Cup football can not come quickly enough for England’s Lionesses. With a summer in France looming ahead, and Phil Neville’s side hitting a rich vein of form at the SheBelieves Cup, football may finally be coming home.
For those out of the know, the SheBelieves Cup derives from the SheBelieves social media campaign that has stemmed from US soccer. The aim of the campaign, as stated by the English FA’s website is to: “Inspire young girls and women and encourage them to accomplish their goals and dream, within sport or otherwise.”
The invitational tournament clearly has admirable intentions that we can all get behind. England’s intentions on the pitch were evidently just as positive.
The Lionesses, captained by Manchester City’s Steph Houghton, knew they faced a tough few fixtures as they came up against Brazil, the USA, and Japan respectively.
However, Neville seemed unfazed by the talent they faced as he focused on gaining improving performances without being too “bothered… whether we won or lost”. In the end it didn’t matter as the ex-Manchester United player wouldn’t have to worry about losing anyway.
England’s first match was against the tournament’s lowest ranked side, Brazil. A 2-1 win got the invitational off to a brilliant start, but things were only going to get better.
The 2nd March brought with it a thrilling encounter, the Lionesses clashed with the mighty USA. A classy touch was added by the Americans, who wore inspirational women’s names, sporting or not, on their shirts to showcase the reasons for the tournament.
US star Carli Lloyd remarked on initiative by saying: “Malala is someone who stood up for what she believed in even though she could be killed for it.
“Even after being shot and almost dying she has continued to fight for and inspire women around the world,” in response to being asked why she chose to wear the name of Nobel Prize winner Malala Yousafzai.
The game that ensued was nothing short of scintillating. After falling behind to a goal from Megan Rapinoe, England’s Manchester City core dug in deep. Steph Houghton and Nikita Parris levelled and sent England in front.
It was left to a 67th minute equaliser from Tobin Heath to keep the tournament alive, meaning going into the final game the USA, England, and Japan could have all come away victorious.
England knew a win against Asia’s most prolific footballing force would seal top spot in the group and land Phil Neville his first piece of managerial silverware. Something he himself proclaimed to be allusive as “you don’t get many chances to get your hands on a trophy.”
When the line-ups were announced, it was revealed that England made eight changes to the starting line-up that grabbed an impressive point against the world number one. Was this to be a misjudgement from Neville or a showcase of extreme squad depth in the English set up?
Questions were soon answered with Lucy Staniforth firing England in front with an outside the box effort just 12 minutes in. The Lionesses piled on the pressure, eager for a larger lead.
11 minutes later and the Lionesses had doubled their lead. This time it was a header from Karen Carney. The cross from Jodie Taylor was typical, she was lighting up the pitch, grabbing the first two assists.
Japan, all at sea, couldn’t handle the English pressure that seemed so confident and self-assured. Nerves didn’t seem to exist in the English set up, with the replacements seeming to fit right in to the game plan.
Half an hour into the match and perhaps the best goal of the day was scored. Kiera Walsh’s brilliant assist helped Beth Mead grab herself a goal that she took calmly.
Walsh’s reverse pass showed us why Neville feels she is “probably the best” at what she does in Midfield at the moment. Neville admitted, “I’ve been really tough on her” as he talked about leaving her out of the squad in the past, but clearly in the long-term the decisions made by Neville, and Walsh’s reactions to these has proven a great success.
As the second half rolled around it would be wrong to say that Japan didn’t work their way back into the game. However, it seems that was due more to a dropping of conviction from the English eleven, rather than a rejuvenated Japanese fight-back.
A fine save from Carly Telford and a wasted chance by Yuka Momiki kept the three-goal lead in the second half, giving England a precious clean sheet, but even more importantly presenting them with the SheBelieves Cup.
The tournament was vital in World Cup preparations, as Phil Neville may now have one eye on the biggest prize in women’s football.
England have been drawn in a group with Scotland, Argentina, and the Japan side they just dispatched of 3-0, and with Neville stating: “We just keep listening to the USA, Japan and Brazil talk about how good we are”.
Spurred on by SheBelieves performances seen across the pond, the World Cup final on 7th May at the Stade de Lyonnais must surely be the goal for this extremely talented group of players.
With friendlies against Canada, Spain, Denmark, and New Zealand all to come before the World Cup kicks off, the next few months of English international women’s football are going to be both exciting and intriguing for all involved.
Golf world number two Park Sung-Hyun achieved an incredible eight-under-par round of 64 in the fourth and final round of the Women’s World Championship in Singapore to claim the title. The Korean, who has won two majors, finished the tournament 15 under-par, beating world number three Minjee Lee by two strokes.
The defending champion, American Michelle Wie withdrew from the event due to a wrist issue, saying in a statement: “I made the decision on 15 to withdraw because at that point, I was unable to lift the club. After getting surgery, I had it in my mind that I was going to be completely pain-free when I came back to Asia to defend my title.”
“I was so ready to be pain-free, I ignored a couple of warning signs. As a result of not listening to my body, I endured a bad flare-up during my round.” Her injury left the tournament wide open for a slew of athletes to potentially win the title. Thailand’s Ariya Jutanugarn led going into the final day but ultimately finished eighth, such was the talent on show.
Park takes home $225,000 of the $1.5 million prize pot for her win and will be hoping to keep the momentum flowing with the Founders Cup taking place later in the month. Talking about her win the Korean said: “I’m really, really delighted and happy with my play today, and I think today is one of the best days that I am playing so far on the LPGA Tour. I didn’t think I would win this fast and I’m really happy.”
“I used to have a tough beginning (of the season) in the last years, and this first win is so fast I think I will play really comfortable the rest of my season. To see all these fans travel from so far away to watch really helps me. I am really surprised every time I see them as it’s such a big group but they really give me energy.”
