Lesley Cherry

@RoyalMail Hi I’ve had notification from Royal Mail to say my item has been delivered on 23/3 but no idea which delivery depot it’s being delivered to 🤷🏻‍♀️ Do you know how I can locate? Looked on tracking but no info so tried calling Royal Mail but 50 minute wait!

@SamanthaTaghoy Sending love (I DM’d you too)

With the brilliant work of Rupert, Sammy, and the Rape Gangs Inquiry, I’ve been getting lots of comments again asking why I’ve gone “quiet” on CSE. So, I thought I’d repost this. My abuse started when I was 5. I’m only in my early 20s now. I still feel the hands on my skin. I still get night terrors. I still can’t stand the smell of certain products or the feel of some fabrics. I still get scared sometimes when my phone pings. I still worry walking around my hometown. I still struggle with relationships and intimacy. I still can’t trust 99% of men. In many ways, I feel very strong. Strong for surviving, strong for speaking out, and strong for using my experience and platform to fight for the little girls like me who have been silenced. But, in many ways, I am also fragile. I haven’t successfully completed a course of sexual abuse therapy because I get overwhelmed and crash out midway through every time. I have been medicated for severe depression and anxiety since I was 15 years old. I can’t even bear to get out of bed some days. I feel a duty to speak and fight and use my voice. I feel a duty to stand up for those who cannot do it themselves, whether out of fear or trauma or anonymity. But it takes its toll. I keep a lot close to my chest because the impact of baring my soul and sharing the darkest moments of my life with the world would probably break me. Even having been public for as long as I have, I get countless hate comments and faceless replies claiming there are “holes” in my story or bits I haven’t told. They’re right. There’s a lot I haven’t shared. There’s a lot of gaps and missing pieces. But not due to malice or deception. I have always been crystal clear and honest when I speak about the grooming and abuse I went through: How it started at age 5, then progressed as I became a teenager and was vulnerable due to the early childhood abuse I had experienced. I was abused by a succession of men throughout my teenage years, some online and some in-person. Some were white and some were not. Some were “interlinked” and some were isolated incidents. Mine wasn’t the “traditional” group-based Pakistani model, but I was under Operation Chalice (Telford’s CSE operation) and my abuse classified as grooming and CSE. I was also subject to the same failings as the thousands of other little girls like me — including Pakistani-Muslim grooming gangs survivors — and the same cultural and institutional attitudes. The offenders were not identical, but the failures were. That is how I first started speaking out about my experience. But, put simply, I don’t want to share it all. Nor am I obligated to. I am still healing and processing what happened to me a few short years ago. Much of it I cannot even remember myself — the brain is a powerful thing and will do anything to protect itself, including blocking trauma out. And I certainly could not mentally handle the weight of processing my trauma while sharing it with the world. My closest friends and family don’t even know all of it. Maybe one day, I will. Maybe one day, I won’t. But the reality is that I am in my early 20s and trying to live my life and make something of myself. I am also a journalist and commentator, and had been working and writing for national outlets long before I broke anonymity. I want to be known for more than my abuse, and continue building the platform I worked so hard for and that enabled me to speak out in the first place. But I’ll always fight, even when I need a break from the frontline. So, there it is. Brutal honesty. Thank you all for your support and kindness over the years. It means the world and has kept me going.

Fox & Father - Episode #75 is out Now! 🎙️ Laurence & Calvin are back with more unfiltered conversation, sharp insight, and plenty of laughs. Watch now 📷 youtu.be/jLiSP1oxqgw #FoxAndFather #LaurenceFox #CalvinRobinson #Podcast #FreeSpeech #UKPolitics @LozzaFox | @calvinrobinson

Remembering the brilliant Emma Chambers who passed away on this day 7 years ago today ❤️

Is England playing? 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 🏉 @SixNationsRugby @EnglandRugby

“My name’s Walter. I’m the night custodian at Lincoln Middle School. Been mopping these halls for 11 years. Most folks don’t even know my name. I’m just ‘the janitor guy’ who empties trash and fixes broken lockers. But I notice things. Like locker 247. Every morning, I’d find food wrappers stuffed in the vents—candy bars, chip bags, cracker boxes. At first, I thought it was just messy kids. Then I realized someone was hiding food. One night, I stayed late. Around 8 p.m., I heard the side door creak. A girl, maybe 13, sneaked in with a backpack. Went straight to locker 247, stuffed it with grocery bags, then left quickly. Next morning, the food was gone. I didn’t report it. Instead, I watched. For two weeks, same pattern. She’d stock it at night. By morning, empty. Finally, I left a note in the locker: ‘You’re not in trouble. I just want to help. — Walter, the custodian’ Next night, she came to my supply closet, terrified. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she begged. Her name was Sarah. She’d been sneaking food to three younger kids—brothers whose dad worked double shifts and forgot to buy groceries. “They’re too embarrassed to ask anyone,” she whispered. “So I use my lunch money and… borrow from my mom’s pantry.” My heart shattered. “What if,” I said slowly, “locker 247 just… had food in it? And nobody asked questions?” Her eyes went wide. I started small. Spent $30 of my paycheck on peanut butter, bread, juice boxes. Left it in the locker overnight. By morning, gone. So I added more—granola bars, apples, crackers. Then something unexpected happened. I found money taped inside the locker door. $5 and a note: ‘I’m a teacher. I know what you’re doing. Here’s for more food.’ Then $20 from someone else. ‘My kid graduated from Lincoln. This school saved him. Keep going.’ Within a month, other staff knew. The nurse donated. The librarian brought canned soup. The gym teacher left his Costco card. “Buy in bulk,” he said. “I’ll cover it.” Locker 247 became legendary—but quiet. No announcements. No assemblies. Just… there. A place where hungry kids could take what they needed without shame. Sarah graduated last year. Came back to see me during finals week. “Walter, I’m studying social work now,” she said. “Because of you. You taught me something. Hunger hides in plain sight. But so does kindness.” She handed me a photo. Locker 247—but at a different school. Across town. “My college volunteer project,” she smiled. “We’re putting them everywhere.” I cried in my supply closet that night. Sixty-nine years old, crying over a locker. Now? Seventeen schools in our county have them. They call it The 247 Project. Stock the locker. Ask no questions. Feed the invisible kids. I’m just a janitor. I mop floors and unclog toilets. But I learned this: Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is notice. And then quietly make space for dignity. So look around—at school, work, your neighborhood. Someone’s hiding their hunger. Their struggle. Their shame. Leave something behind. Food. Money. Hope. Locker 247 isn’t just metal and paint. It’s proof that caring doesn’t need permission. Just action. And it starts with seeing what everyone else walks past. Let this story reach more hearts.” ~ Meredith Watson

Receiving a cancer diagnosis is hard for anyone, but it is especially hard for parents with younger children. Too many are forced to worry about travel costs for treatment. That’s why we’re launching a £10m travel fund for young people with cancer. 👇🏻 bbc.co.uk/news/articles/…

During today’s training session @WatfordWorkshop we were distracted (out of the window) by a squirrel making a nest up the tree so we changed plan and researched squirrels. Do you know what their babies are called? We didn’t but we do now 😊

You get one point for each of these if your mum said any of them to you when you were a kid.

Growing up in the 80s. I miss them so much🥺 Credit:@British_Brainrot

@womanandhome more articles like Lucy Sweet’s ‘Happy Hibernation’ please 😆 Much needed today on a cold, miserable, PJ Netflix kinda day! 🙌

“How did the Ofsted inspection go?” School staff:

I’ve been through the first set of new Ofsted framework Primary school reports. Makes for very interesting reading. I’ve done some summarising and bits based on all of them as a whole. Key similarities, common strengths/weaknesses etc. Let me know if you’d like a copy.

Three years have passed. Ruth will never be forgotten. ❤️

A dedication to fear of illness and death is a core principle of leftism. Because they have no actual hope (otherwise called faith) in anything beyond tomorrow afternoon, they manufacture hope with silly slogans about diversity and Love and refugees. I remember both my boys getting chicken pox. One got one of tiny little mark and the other got it really really badly. It was like all his orifices from his eyes to his arse were under attack from a strange alien virus. I phoned my mum - an actual nurse - in a worry. “Better he gets it now darling” she said. “Kick starts the immune system. You don’t want to catch it as an adult.” And as surely as night follows day, she was right. He was poorly for a week. You have an immune system for a reason.

@ITV confused us even more….in a week when we don’t know what day it is…they put @jamesmartinchef Saturday Kitchen on! 🤔 🤣

"My name's Claudette. I'm 71. I drive the number 9 school bus, same route for sixteen years. Pick up kids at 7 a.m., drop them at school, repeat at 3 p.m. Most days it's just noise, backpacks, and asking kids to sit down forty times. But I see patterns. Like the boy in seat 14 who started getting on with wet hair every morning. Then soaking wet clothes. Then barefoot one day in October. I pulled over. "Sweetie, where are your shoes?" He looked down, embarrassed. "Water got shut off at home. Can't shower. My shoes got moldy." Nine years old. Walking to the bus stop barefoot because his single dad lost his job and couldn't pay the water bill. I drove to Walmart after my route. Bought him shoes. Size 3. Left them on his seat the next morning with a note, "Found these on the bus. Must be yours." He wore them every day after that. But then I noticed others. Girl wearing the same stained shirt three days straight. Boy who never brought lunch, stomach growling so loud I could hear it from the driver's seat. Kids who smelled unwashed, kids with holes in their backpacks. So I started keeping things on the bus. A plastic bin under my seat. Clean socks. Granola bars. Soap. Deodorant. Hair ties. School supplies. I'd leave items on seats like I "found" them. Kids would take them quietly, never asking questions. Parents started noticing. One mom stopped me. "My daughter came home with new crayons. She said you found them on the bus." I nodded. "Lost and found." She cried. "We can't afford school supplies right now. Thank you for not making her feel poor." Word spread somehow. Other parents started leaving things. Backpacks. Jackets. Lunch boxes. "For the bus lost and found," they'd say. I'd distribute them to kids who needed them. Then something bigger happened. The boy with the shoes, his name's Tyler, his dad got hired at a factory. First paycheck, he brought me $40. "For the lost and found," he said. "So other kids can find things too." Now there's a whole system. A "bus pantry" at the school. Supplied by families who can, used by families who can't. No applications. No proof of need. Kids just take what they need from the bin, like finding lost items. Other bus drivers started doing it. Twelve drivers in the district now. Feeding kids. Clothing kids. Giving them dignity disguised as coincidence. I'm 71. I drive a yellow bus full of loud children. But I learned this, poverty rides the school bus every single day. It sits in seat 14, seat 22, seat 7. And most people never see it because hungry kids get really good at hiding. So pay attention. On buses, in classrooms, at pickup lines. Some child is barefoot. Some child is hungry. Some child needs someone to "find" exactly what they're missing. Stock a bin. Leave supplies. Make poverty look like luck. Because no child should feel ashamed for needing shoes." . Let this story reach more hearts.... . Credit - unknown

It's official! Santa has taken off from the North Pole! Follow his journey on noradsanta.org/en/ 📷 #NORADTracksSanta #NTS25

Right then here goes... ANNUAL RANT ALERT!! Triggered by adverts and TV chefs😠😠 Christmas Dinner.... I have concluded that the inevitable stress of Christmas dinner is created by adverts, supermarkets and TV chefs... It's a Sunday dinner for goodness sake!!! We do it quite happily 51 weeks of the year but can we the consumers be trusted to manage by ourselves on one day of the year...apparently not! Here goes... 1. Turkey... It's a big fecking chicken that's all, 20 minutes per lb plus 20 minutes at 180 degrees - jobs a good un! Get yourselves a meat thermometer £3 off the Internet poke it in the offending bird if it says 75 degrees or over it’s cooked! 2. Stuffing - regardless of what Jamie Oliver says you do NOT need 2lbs of shoulder of pork, onions breadcrumbs,pine nuts and a shit load of fresh herbs to make stuffing....( no fecking wonder he's bankrupt if thats what he spends to make stuffing!) What you need is Paxo and a kettle!! If you wanna liven it up squeeze 3 sausages out of their skins and mix that in with your Paxo before cooking 😉. 3. Gravy - Jamie Oliver is copping for this one aswell.... Gravy granules Jamie.... All you need is gravy granules! I ( nor any other woman I know) has got time on Christmas Eve to piss about roasting chicken wings and vegetables, adding stock and flour,cooking it for another half hour, mashing it all up with a potato masher and then straining the whole sorry mess to make gravy 😠😠😠 4. Vegetables... Never mind faffing round shredding sprouts and frying them with bacon and chestnuts to make them more palatable... If you don't like them don't buy and cook the fecking things!! If your family only eats frozen peas then that's good enough! 5. Roast potatoes... Yes I par boil mine then roast them in goose fat but Aunt Bessie also does the same 😉. 6. Trimmings /Christmas pudding and the like.... Aldi or Lidl! (oh and while we're on the subject of pudding- if birds custard is what your family likes on the wretched thing then that's fine - you do not need brandy butter /rum sauce etc or anything else that costs a fecking fortune and takes 2 hours to make!) 7. Family.... Children.. Feed the little blighters first separately, if they only want turkey with tomato sauce - fine leave em to it, it doesn't matter. Once they are fed bugger them off to play with their Christmas presents so that YOU can enjoy your dinner in Peace! Adults... Anyone that can manage to get their sorry arse to your dinner table is also capable of helping to serve up/ sort the kids out/ clear the table /wash up /dry up etc. And Finally..... NO ONE.... And I mean no one APART FROM THE COOK IS ALLOWED TO GET DRUNK AND FALL ASLEEP BEFORE THE WASHING UP IS DONE!!! Rant over 😂 Merry feckin Christmas!

@Ofstednews Last day of term ! Are you absolutely without any kind of empathy? @bphillipsonMP have a word with this organisation please…it seems they are determined to accelerate teachers leaving the profession with their ludicrous expectations!