Kieran Yates

On August 4 2011 Mark Duggan, a 29-year-old black man, was subjected by police in Tottenham to a ‘hard stop’, a tactic whereby armed officers box in a vehicle to take the occupant by surprise and make an arrest. In the moments that followed, Duggan was fatally shot in the chest by an officer. The police claim Duggan was armed; and despite the Independent Police Complaints Commission ruling Duggan ‘did not open fire’, his death was later classified as a ‘lawful killing’. Over the next five days, protests started by family, friends and community leaders led to rioting across the country. This single event seemingly triggered nationwide civil unrest. But Duggan’s death was just the spark. The fuel was a city of increasingly disenfranchised young people. That summer there was record unemployment among young people, youth clubs were closing due to council cuts and Educational Maintenance Allowance had been stopped. In immigrant communities, relationships with the police were increasingly fractured. In 2010, the LSE reported that ‘black people are 26 times more likely to be stopped and searched than white people’, while ‘Asians were six times more likely’ according to Ministry of Justice figures for 2008-2009. Clearly there were existing tensions that contributed to the August unrest. Fast forward to a post-Brexit world and new tensions have arisen. Race-related hate crimes have spiked – up by 47 percent after the referendum result – while unemployment for black and minority ethnic

It's there when you need booze, chocolate, loo roll and milk. The humble corner shop is every Londoner's best friend. Kieran Yates celebrates an urban institution and chats to five owners about life behind the counter. London changes quickly: pop-ups come and go; shiny blocks of flats appear as if overnight; minimalist coffee shops stake out new territory. Yet amid all this transformation some things remain, more or less constant, like the modest corner shop. Theyíre not glam, or new, but these neighbourhood pit stops are a quiet lifeline for Londoners. My grandparents opened a corner shop in Reading in the '70s. Like hundreds of Indian families before them, they saw ownership of a newsagent's as a way of integrating into their new country. For my grandad, engaging with locals like Ethel (who was forever losing her cat) and Ivan and Linus (two Irish builders who bought pies every day after work and ate their first ever curry in the shop) was a true grassroots cultural exchange. He got to see the eating and spending habits of British people, and they got to see what those 'new Indians in the corner shop' were like. The verdict was that they were both all right: a bit different, maybe, but the place just wouldnít feel like home without them. The immigrant population of Britain has changed remarkably since the '70s, so who is behind your local shop counter today? From the owner who plays Indian soaps on TV to the shop that's frequented by a famous cat, we take a look - a real lo