I was ‘shop and searched’ at Westfield

A few years ago, I went to Westfield in Stratford, east London. I find going shopping a bore at the best of times, so the idea of a place where all the stores I might want to go to are under one roof – a shopping centre, if you will – sounded super convenient, if also my idea of a living hell.

I was halfway up an escalator when I saw a team of immigration officers floating around the concourse. If you’re a part of a visible minority in this country, you’ll know the drill. An overzealous official will stop you to ask a series of questions about who you are and where you come from, and demand to see some ID.

That day, I just didn’t want the hassle – so I went into flight mode. My instinct told me to run back down the escalator.