Adam Jogee

My hon. Friend should be careful what he wishes for, because he will be caught out if he is not careful! I want it to be normal—to be a given—and for it to happen right across this island home of ours that someone like me can serve in this House. We all know that black history is British history, and that is certainly true in the context of our United Kingdom. That should not be a controversial or difficult thing to say, so I will say it again: black history is British history. I am tired of people who should know better—some who sit in this House—who appear determined to tear our communities apart; people obsessed with division rather than unity; people who profess an empty and meaningless care for and commitment to this country. It is not British to walk by on the other side, and those political leaders who seek to tell us otherwise should know better. Let me also say to some in this House, although I note they are not in the Chamber, “If you have an identity crisis and do not know who you are, if you are unsure how to be comfortable in your own skin, I am really sorry for you, but please do not project your insecurities on to the rest of us. Do not infect our national life with your complete and utter rubbish.” I am proud of who I am and where I am from; I was blessed to be born into a family who made sure that me and my siblings felt that. I am proud of my white English grandmother who had some Irish in her too, of my Jamaican grandfather who made this country his home, of my dad’s parents born in Southern Rhodesia when it was run by this Parliament: I am proud of my Englishness, my African routes and my Caribbean heritage. Nobody—and I mean nobody—is going to make me feel otherwise, tell me otherwise, or make me question that. [Hon. Members: “Hear, hear!”] As we approach Armistice Day and Remembrance Sunday in a couple of weeks’ time, when our United Kingdom comes together to reflect and acknowledge the sacrifices of all the men and boys who went to war—and all the women who kept the show on the road at home—nobody in the Chamber today, in any political party, in any community in our country or in any corner of this land should ever forget that we would never have beaten the fascists on the beaches of Normandy or at Gallipoli without the bravery and valour of young men—black, white and Asian. Their bravery won the day. For many of those who returned from the frontline, our United Kingdom became their home. Those black men and women rolled up their sleeves, put their shoulders to the wheel and helped rebuild a nation ravaged by war. As I have acknowledged before, with their skills and smarts, homes were built, our buses were back on the road, railways worked once again—though I say as someone who has to get the Avanti train back to North Staffordshire every Thursday that we could do with more of their railway working today. Our national health service was established, and as a husband to a nurse, that is particularly important to me. Restaurants opened and sold food with spice, seasoning and everything nice; fabric shops and tailors ensured that our country had some of the best dressed people on the world stage, and our United Kingdom bounced back. So much more happened, and we as a country would and could not have done it without the sacrifices and contribution of the black British community. And you know what, Madam Deputy Speaker, it is okay for us to say that. I have said this before to the House, and I will say it again: that does not take away from white people, Asian people or those of mixed heritage. We all have a contribution to make, and we all deserve to have that contribution acknowledged and celebrated. It is that blend, that connection and that understanding that we must use Black History Month this year and every year to hold on to. For me, this is as much about class as it is about race. The black families I represent in Chesterton, Silverdale or Madeley in Newcastle-under-Lyme who moved there to build a life and raise their families have not had the same experiences as people like Kwasi Kwarteng, for example. Those families live in exactly the same economic situations as their white neighbours. We have a wider challenge before us: how do we build an economy that works for all of our people? How do we uplift, enrich and empower all of our people? While I absolutely believe that the contribution made by the black British community must be acknowledged every single day of the year, I welcome the focus that Black History Month provides for all of us to celebrate, enjoy and recognise that. As we celebrate Black History Month, I like to reflect on the promise of our country—to think that my grandfather arrived here on a boat during the war, and here I am today. My grandfather came to this country before Windrush. Everyone who has spoken in this debate has, quite rightly, mentioned Windrush. I do not say this to them, but I say generally that there were black people in this country before 1948. The experiences of my grandfather and the men who came with him on that boat in 1941 made it ever so slightly easier for those who came after them, and it is important that we remember those people, too. My standing here today would not happen in many other parts of the world, but it happened in this, our United Kingdom, and we should never forget that. I am proud of my race, but it does not define me. It inspires me every single day. It has opened doors for me; regrettably, I suspect it has closed a few, too. It allows me to show those who come after me that anything is possible. My hon. Friend the Minister touched on online racism and the fact that some seek to normalise it, as did the hon. Member for Chichester when talking about our friend, the hon. Member for Eastbourne (Josh Babarinde). I have never been so conscious of the colour of my skin as I have been when calling out the racists throwing abuse towards the former Prime Minister, the right hon. Member for Richmond and Northallerton (Rishi Sunak), and the hon. Members for Eastbourne and for Huntingdon (Ben Obese-Jecty). While listening to colleagues, I have been looking through the responses on Twitter to when I called out that racism, and I want to share a couple with the House. I was called “another foreigner” in British politics. I was born here. Boris Johnson, another former Prime Minister, was born in the United States, but I do not think he is called a foreigner. What does that tell us? Another called me a “parasite”. My favourite was being told that “with a surname like that, you cannot be English.” It is a real shame that there are some in our country who have so little going on in their lives that they have the time to talk such garbage. As my near-ish neighbour and hon. Friend the Member for South Derbyshire (Samantha Niblett) pointed out earlier, no one is born racist. But it is important that I give this snapshot of what happens when someone who looks like me in this House calls out that racism. Racism is not just online; it happens on our streets, too. Look at what we saw earlier this year in Northern Ireland—a place I know well, as my wife is from there and we spend as much time there as we can. The streets of this country saw black and Asian people chased out of their homes and hospital workers hiding in the boots of their white neighbours’ cars because they were scared they would not get home. [Interruption.] In 2026, that is an utter disgrace. It is not who we are, and it must never be who we become. [Interruption.] This is quite good going for me—I did actually cry when I gave my speech at my wedding, so this is an improvement. I spoke for 28 minutes when I got married, though, so I will have to see how tolerant you will be of me this afternoon, Madam Deputy Speaker. Over the past decade, I have had the honour of attending Black History Month events at local schools, churches and community hubs. I have listened to children speak of their lived experiences, good and bad, and heard pensioners recall the stories of their ancestors. The overwhelming feeling I come away with every year at the end of this month is how proud we should all be of the black British contribution made to our communities. There has been talk of reparations in this debate and in recent weeks, ahead of the Commonwealth Heads of Government meeting in Antigua. I am the descendant of slaves, and I want to share my view. I say this, as I said at the beginning of my remarks, as someone who is very proud of and aware of who he is, where he is from and what he is on earth to do. Who do we pay? What value do we put on the lives of those disgracefully, immorally and forcibly removed from their homes? Where does it stop? I know where I think it can start: with a British Government who take the Commonwealth seriously and who stop lumping together the Africa and development briefs in the Foreign Office. We have to stop looking at our relationship with Africa through the prism of making ourselves feel better with a development policy approach—there is more to Africa and our relationship with Africa than just development. It starts by ensuring that we reflect on the legacy of the British empire and our collective and complicated history and by properly and effectively trading with the Caribbean and Africa—as much as I love Canada, Australia and New Zealand, we must do more and go further. We should be establishing genuine and real links between our leaders, and I hope that my more senior colleagues in government will lead by example. I want to see more ministerial visits to the former colonies—I say this word consciously—because it is on those visits that we can show our equal partners the respect that they deserve. That would go so much further in acknowledging the contribution that our forefathers made and that the black community is making today, and it would show that this Government get it. When my right hon. Friend the Member for Makerfield (Andy Burnham) became Prime Minister, I was asked to become Parliamentary Private Secretary to the Secretary of State for Education. I was told that that, on paper, is the first step on the ministerial ladder—in reality, on occasion it feels a little different. But it is an important role, because through it, I am determined to ensure that everyone who needs the skills to succeed is able to get them, that everyone who wants to seize the opportunities before them is able to do so, and that we give our young people—all our young people—the tools to succeed and thrive. I said in my maiden speech that my becoming a parliamentarian “was not inevitable, but it was possible.”—[Official Report, 29 July 2024; Vol. 752, c. 1122.] The fact that I am a parliamentarian tells me how far the black community has come—from my grandfather getting off the boat in a cold Liverpool in 1941 to me this morning, late, getting off the tube at Westminster station and taking my seat on these green Benches. The fact that I am in Parliament reminds us of what we need to do to lift everybody up, and is a reminder of the age-old value that I have repeated on many occasions: anything can be possible in this United Kingdom of ours. We all know that the black community has made an unbelievable contribution to the life and soul of this country, from music and the arts to film and sports—and, yes, to food, although the hon. Member for Beaconsfield mentioned the House of Commons jerk chicken earlier, and let me tell her: that is not jerk chicken. There are a couple of places we can go if she wants to taste some. Having said that, my white English grandmother was born and raised in a white working-class family in Birkenhead in the 1920s, but after having been with my grandfather for half a century, her rice and peas was second to none. I just wish she had passed that down to all of her 10 daughters—