The authentic voice of the streets is translated, captioned, polished until it can be dissected in Guardian think‑pieces, consumed by middle‑class voyeurs who treat our lives like edgy exhibits rather than lived realities. This is why we don’t step forward. Why we don’t submit our manuscripts or scripts. Because standing at the gates are the cultural custodians: well‑spoken, well‑heeled, Oxbridge‑seasoned.