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When I connect with Anz over video call, she’s in the familiar confines of her bright Manchester flat. So familiar that she can “count on both hands” the amount of times she’s actually left it throughout the pandemic. Today, she’s wearing big earrings imprinted with a smiley face and they reflect her warm disposition; she regularly erupts into laughter, and tells stories with a wide grin.

Her hair is long and dark, with a lilac strip framing her face. I compliment the style, which she promptly explains is a temporary solution to a failed second attempt at twists over lockdown, using hair purchased online that broke her face out in a rash. “In retrospect, Amazon is not the link for reliable braiding hair. I had a proper Britney moment and snipped off all the twists and I was looking at myself in the mirror, just going through it… So, in conclusion –” she expounds, trailing off into laughter, “sorry, I’ve been dying to tell someone!”