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3 That afternoon they ended up dancing to Amr Diab in Yazz's room Yazz tells Waris it's important to counterbalance the state of being cerebral with the state of being corporeal Waris asks her if she means they need to do physical activity because they spend too much time thinking? yes, that's it, Yazz says, making elaborate movements with her arms as she dances why didn't you just say that then? they're still playing his songs very loudly later that evening with Nenet, who lives on the same corridor and first introduced the famous Egyptian singer to them; Yazz had instantly found herself transported as soon as the lyrics poured out of Diab's sexy lips on the screen Waris loved him too, said Diab's music stirred her soul Yazz said he made her feel love for the man who'll one day be on the receiving end of her passion Waris said that man should be afraid, very afraid Nenet said Diab was old school so for her it was more of a nostalgia thing, as she showed them how to dance Arabic-style with swaying hips and swirling arms, while high on jelly babies it became their thing – Amr Diab evenings

Courtney, who lived next door, knocked on the door in her pyjamas, and asked them to turn it down because she's trying to sleep and it's, like, midnight? Yazz told her to listen very carefully to the other people playing loud music in other parts of the building, can she hear them? above and below? of course she can, it's a Saturday night, and as soon as the security guards who've been called drive off, the noise starts up again everyone's at it, right? Yazz said, hands on hips, so why are you targeting us in particular, giving Courtney a look rich with subtext it was a tense moment, diffused by Nenet, who said she knows how to handle conflict because her father was in the diplomatic service for the entire thirty years of Mubarak's presidency of Egypt that's called a dictatorship, Waris challenged her it's called political stability, Nenet swatted back Nenet's grandfather had grown up with Mubarak in Kafr El-Meselha, he worked in the Ministry of Justice with him, their families were friends as a diplomatic couple, her parents acquired the skills to talk to anyone as if they were deeply interested in them, even when they hated the bastards, they'd even be nice to you, Waris, Nenet once said, reassuringly Waris knew what Nenet meant, Somalis were looked down on in Egypt when Mubarak's government fell during the Egyptian revolution, Nenet's family fled to the UK where they had citizenship anyway because her dad had invested a million pounds here to get it prior to that, her parents lived in lots of countries while she'd gone to boarding school in Sussex don't ask me where my family money comes from, she said, replying to Waris's enquiry they've never told me Nenet welcomed Courtney into Yazz's room, all diplomatic smiles to diffuse the situation, come in, what's your name? offering her Coca Cola, and when the music began again, showed her moves just let yourself float, Courtney, imagine you're water, air, light, let the music move your body, don't overthink it, the aim is to dance with yourself for yourself

Courtney was soon swirling and floating with the rest of them, she liked this fa-la-la music and why hadn't she heard of it before? don't you think that's a bit offensive? Yazz asked why? I like it and belly dancing's fun, too it's not called belly dancing, Yazz replied, that's so Orientalist and we don't tolerate that here, at which point Nenet told Yazz to cut it out and explained their dancing is inspired by what's now called Raqs Sharqi okay, Courtney said, shrugging, doing a fancy spin and dancing as if she could divorce her hips from her waist, her waist from her chest, her arms from her torso and her hands from her arms she was moving better than all of them they all crashed on Yazz's floor that night, had breakfast together in the refectory Courtney told them she grew up on a wheat and barley farm in Suffolk, they joked it explained her farm girl looks sparkling eyes, Nenet said translucent skin, Yazz said milkmaid breasts, Waris added Waris, who'd never left Wolverhampton before travelling for university open days, admitted she'd never stepped on a farm in her life me neither, Yazz said, my soul is urbanista not ruralite Nenet informed them that her parents have a farm in the Cotswolds which breeds llamas and a wine estate in the Franschhoek Valley in South Africa Waris said it was all right for some, to which Nenet replied it's not my fault, Waris said fair-dos Yazz said that while she liked the idea of fresh milk, the idea of cocks crowing when you want to sleep in put her off, similarly she liked the idea of fresh milk but not milking cows to get it, or killing them for your beef burgers Waris said she liked the idea of going on daily bracing walks across the meadows, whereupon Courtney told her she hates walking and there are no meadows anywhere near her farm as she ate her breakfast of eggs, bacon and baked beans, Courtney made the mistake of asking Waris why she wore a headscarf

Yazz looked up from her muesli expecting to see Waris kick off, instead, she dug her spoon in her thick porridge and said in a surprisingly mild voice that it's Number One – cultural, Number Two – political, and then, just as Yazz expected her to say Number Three – none of your damned business, she didn't Waris simply said her mother told her she didn't need to explain herself to anyone Nenet, on to her second espresso and nibbling on a boiled egg, was ready to step in – not necessary, Courtney apologized, although she sounded more petulant than sorry, I was only asking because I didn't know cool, well now you do Yazz decided that although Courtney was quite ignorant of other cultures, she'd shown strength of character and chutzpah, a precondition for joining the Unfuckwithables where they all tended to speak their minds and you had to fight back and not run off crying to the toilet like a wimp she liked Courtney and if she liked her she was in the squad one Monday morning a few months later, Yazz informed her, as they queued for the toilet after the Race, Class and Gender class, that she was in effect now an honorary sistah with an h, a term that originated with black women which was now being appropriated (typical!) by those who weren't however, Courtney could never be a fully-fledged sistah, only honorarily so she explained that being a sistah was a response to how we're seen as much as who we are, which actually defies simplistic reductionism, and that who we are is partly a response to how we're seen, babe Yazz found herself calling people she liked 'babe' these days, it wasn't forced or pretentious, it just happened naturally it's a conundrum, Yazz continued the conversation over lunch of bean soup for her (protein for the brain) and meat, mash and mushy peas for Courtney people won't see you as just another woman any more, but as a white woman who hangs with brownies, and you'll lose a bit of your privilege,

you should still check it, though, have you heard the expression, check your privilege, babe? Courtney replied that seeing as Yazz is the daughter of a professor and a very well-known theatre director, she's hardly underprivileged herself, whereas she, Courtney, comes from a really poor community where it's normal to be working in a factory at sixteen and have your first child as a single mother at seventeen, and that her father's farm is effectively owned by the bank yes but I'm black, Courts, which makes me more oppressed than anyone who isn't, except Waris who is the most oppressed of all of them (although don't tell her that) in five categories: black, Muslim, female, poor, hijabbed she's the only one Yazz can't tell to check her privilege Courtney replied that Roxane Gay warned against the idea of playing 'privilege Olympics' and wrote in Bad Feminist that privilege is relative and contextual, and I agree, Yazz, I mean, where does it all end? is Obama less privileged than a white hillbilly growing up in a trailer park with a junkie single mother and a jailbird father? is a severely disabled person more privileged than a Syrian asylum-seeker who's been tortured? Roxane argues that we have to find a new discourse for discussing inequality Yazz doesn't know what to say, when did Court read Roxane Gay – who's amaaaazing? was this a student outwitting the master moment? #whitegirltrumpsblackgirl Courtney added that as she only fancies black men and is likely going to have mixed-race children, her 'white privilege' is in any case going to be seriously dented, like at least 50% of it, and it's incredible in this day and age that she'd never met any black people in the flesh before she came to university from Dartingford which is entirely white except for three Asians Yazz informed her that's a non sequitur, conversation-wise Courtney replied that she herself is a big fan of the non sequitur which really only means that a conversation is free-flowing and intuitive, as opposed to following a predictable trajectory, so to speak Yazz excused herself to go to the toilet.