I think of a jaw dropping scene in the film ‘Children of Men’ (Dir Alfonso Cuarón). It depicts a Black Woman, who is supposedly a foreigner, birthing a child in a war zone amidst intense gun battle. 

This will be the first childbirth in 18 years, due to a virus that plagued society, inducing global infertility. 

Fear is vivid and calamity is anticipated. The sound of bullets ricocheting is concerning, causing the mother to shield her child. The baby confused, scared and cold begins to cry. 

The cry of the baby is heard and suddenly, a closely guarded secret is exposed; 

there’s a baby for the first time in 18 years. 

The world stops. 
The gun battle ceases
There is silence
Soldiers dove their helmets and drool
The old tremble and yearn
Young lovers watch in jealousy and admiration, as the mother slowly carries her baby out of the war zone. 

Of course the fucking war raged on. 
But in that moment of brief pause, we are reminded of serenity and for some normalcy. Perhaps of what a fine summer’s day felt like, what rush hour in London and New York reminds us of. The kind of joy brunch and restaurant ambience brought us. Our annoyance at tourists and we being the tourists getting yelled at. The rowdy crowd, unending hugs, passionate kisses, intimate none distanced conversations in groups of five or more, checking in and out of airports, extending a flirty smile because you both don’t have face masks on, reading a book at a train station in peace without timed announcements instructing you to keep safe, and loud parties with unapologetic fist pumps in a basement somewhere in Soho. 

Grumpy and aimlessly pacing around indoors with hopes and aspirations of a post-pandemic life, a random three minute and forty second of bliss from Sade Adu on a grey afternoon in London, during a pandemic, strengths faith and hastens hope. For a second, you smile and forget. 

Then comes the phrase we are all tired of; “Can you hear me!” This bitch of a life. 

Sade’s Your Love is King will always be a favourite.