In the early days, we didn’t have a club. We had the custom of going to pubs and some white working men’s club. Then, a bunch of us decided to buy this place. Us boys used to come in, play dominoes, play cards, mess about, have a drink and then when it was time, we went home.

Back then, we talked about opening up on a Thursday, to bring our older generation in. Now I am one of the older generation – 81 years old.

I’ve known these people all the years I’ve been in Bradford – it’s one big reunion family. But now, it has come down a handful, because a lot of people have passed away.

On Thursdays, we start off with our elders group. Catch them on a good day, they are pretty sharp and they do like a joke, like Eriel.

She’s from Barbados, she’s 95 and still very sharp. I play dominos with her, and she’ll tell me off. She’ll watch my hands and I just can’t believe how sharp she is! She can read the whole table after a few cards have been put down and I’m like, “I’m still learning!”

Then we have our Thirsty Thursday group, the next wave of people coming in just for a laugh and a social interaction. This will go on till about 10 o’clock, with music, a few drinks, pool, food, and then dominoes – it’s a vibrant atmosphere.

Then there’s being involved in all the cultural activities that we have, like the street parties and other Dominican celebrations, like La Salette coming up in September. We’re just open, if anybody wants to come down and have a good time – that’s what we’re here for. It’s a safe hub.

For those that come here, their friendships have kept them bubbly. Some of them came over together, from Dominica, from the same village. So they’ve known each other since they were children, and I’ve noticed that they seem to stay healthy longer as a community, as opposed to being stuck at home on their own.

It’s like a hub, the DA. It’s the heartbeat, really, isn’t it?

We’re trying to keep some of the traditions alive and keep the memory of people alive, because we’ve lost a lot of people that originally set up this club. When they first came, they used to get a lot of abuse in pubs and clubs because of their colour. So we used to have house parties, we’d all take it in turns. When we were kids, we could hear the music downstairs and rooms would be full of people dancing.

Eventually they got it together and got their own club, so they could socialise on a Friday and Saturday, and a Sunday which used to always be family day. So after we’d been to church, our parents would all come here on a Sunday. So we all know each other, the other Dominicans that are roughly your age, you know who is who.

The abuse was terrible when they first came. The shocking thing was that they were pretty much more British, than the British people over here. They came off the boat with a briefcase and bowler hats and my dad came here with a British passport, because the Queen owned Dominica.

You know, each village has a church. They’re all mainly church goers, God fearing people. So it must have been a terrible shock for them to face so much racial abuse, even at work. They wanted to escape it. When they finally got their own place, they could hold their own functions, and everyone felt safe. That’s the community I grew up in.

I’ve known these people all my life, they’re like my aunties, uncles, grandmas, granddads. There hasn’t been a time when I haven’t seen these people, from me coming to the club or from them coming to my house.

Well, Dominica is like a dot. If you have a look at map, it is so small. But in Bradford, we do have quite a big community of Dominicans. They’re very, very proud of their heritage. People look at black people and they might think: “Oh, he’s a Jamaican”, but they could be from Trinidad, from St. Lucia, or St Kitts. There’s a big variation you know – even down to the food, even if it’s the same meal, we cook the food differently. We’re all from Yorkshire, but we all have different ways of doing it.

In 2009 I got divorced and ended up with three boys on my own, and I thought my life was over, honestly. I started working here and just talking to my seniors, who were in the seventies and eighties, they taught me there’s a lot of life left, they did. I thought life’s over and I’m divorced, with all these kids, all doom and gloom. But they brought me back to life. Talking to them and seeing how much life there is in these people. Life’s not over, it’s only just begun, it really has. They’ve got me back in game again.