Review: Ms Marvel, Volume 1

Gem Mahadeo Greater south-east London, mid-1980s. My younger brother and I hold each of my mother’s hands. We’re walking to school in Plumstead. Another child, across the road from us accompanied by their mother, yells “F—ing Pakis, go home!”. Instead of getting told off their elder siblings goad them to continue. My own mother doesn’t  ...

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