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My internal conflicts

Guest Blog by Amer Nazir

I hurried towards the train station to catch the 7:51. I was dressed well – in my Canali suit and my Hugo Boss overcoat. At the entrance to the station, I saw two people handing out leaflets. The one on the right was Susan Krammer, the local Liberal Democrat MP.

She paused when she saw me… and I saw her struggle for a moment though she did hide it well… ‘And how are you?’ she asked as if she had placed me at once without any effort at all on her part… ‘I am well,’ I replied, with my eye towards the approaching train that I did not want to miss… ‘Mrs Krammer,’ I continued hastily, ‘I will never forget your kindness…!’ ‘That’s what we are here for,’ she replied, ‘you know where to reach us if there is anything we can do for you in future as well…’

I bowed, said my goodbye and ran towards the train – but she called after me…’By the way, you look terrific,’ she said. I turned around and saw that she was beaming – there was pride in her eyes…

Once on the train, I thought of her. I could imagine her being a bit indulgent this morning. An indulgence well deserved. I imagined her telling her assistant right at this moment in a hushed tone that I was an ex-asylum seeker – perhaps just to motivate the young man about the moral significance of their job…

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