Living with the enemy
Sawaria Sajid, 21, Leeds
Fragrant spices filled the kitchen as I tipped extra-hot curry powder into the vegetable biryani.
‘Woah, that’s way too spicy,’ my mum Abida, then 30, laughed, grabbing my hand.
It was 2011, I was 11 and Mum was teaching me to make Pakistani food from scratch.
I loved this precious time before my dad Sajid, then 29, a taxi driver, got home from work.
‘Why isn’t dinner on the table?’ he’d bark at Mum.
Dad had an ugly temper, so she’d scurry around after him.
He’d often beat Mum up, too, screaming the washing wasn’t done or the house not clean enough.
He didn’t bother hiding his
