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After my father died when I was seven and my mother entered into an abusive relationship, I shuffled between houses - staying with friends, families from church, and relying on the kindness of teachers and people throughout my community to help me grow up essentially without parents.

When I was growing up, my parents took in foster children. From a young age, I learned that there are a lot of children in need.

When I was nine years old, my family lost our home, and the six of us moved into my grandparents' converted garage.

Until I was six years old we lived in the projects, then my two brothers and three sisters and I moved to a three-bed that my mother's father built.

I didn't grow up in a regular upbringing. I ended up at my grandmother's house past a certain age, so I took care of things myself. I moved out of home when I was 16.

I happened to the be the fifth child of my family, so everybody was already grown and had left home already.

We were so poor that my mother would often leave me in a foster home until she could raise enough money to rent rooms for us.

I was well brought up, my parents are still together. I lived in a council estate, but I don't anymore; I saw my parents buy a nice house and move me to a nice area.

I lost my mother, who suffered from Alzheimer's disease, and we had to relocate my dad after 58 years in the family home. That was tough.