London-based boxer Michael King is describing how he grew up in DR Congo against the backdrop of civil war.

As he continues to tell his story, which contains lengthy chapters on becoming homeless and living on London’s streets, it quickly becomes apparent there is nothing conventional about his upbringing.

Or the welterweight’s journey into the toughest sport of all.

“I was nearly 20 when I first took it up,” King says.

“I had a job at KFC, was living with my parents and making decent money I suppose. But because I was doing between 60 and 100 hours a week, I didn’t have any time.

“Then I saw Floyd Mayweather fight Conor McGregor, read how much they were paid, and thought that’s a good way to earn.”

King and his family had moved to the UK when he was a teenager. Despite admitting he knew “next to nothing” about boxing, King was immediately hooked.

So hooked, in fact, he decided to make it his profession. Even though he knew that would cost him.

“My dad’s a traditional African parent and if you want to stay under his roof, you have to respect his rules,” King says.

“Dad had a vision for me, which was getting educated, and I didn’t have the same one, that’s all.

“Life is very short and I wanted to pursue boxing. So while I had to leave, we always talked and stayed good.”

King made his first visit to a gym in White City in London, where the family was living before moving to Tottenham.

The time he began to invest in his new-found passion quickly saw his life threaten to spiral completely out of control.

He was working at KFC, but got fired for “eating too much”.

“I sometimes went back when I didn’t have money and they’d give me free food,” King says.

“Maybe I wanted to get fired because I was boxing and working. I couldn’t find a balance. When I got told to leave, I thought it was a sign.”

The only trouble was, that job paid the bills.

“I couldn’t afford a place and so I stayed in my car,” King said.

King would spend his days in the gym and on the coldest evenings, he would spend the night in the A&E waiting room, in search of a warm place.

But boxing was what King wanted to do, so he stuck at it making his professional debut in 2019 at York Hall. He lost the first two fights, but refused to stop boxing.

King feels it was inevitable he would be drawn towards boxing given the opportunities it offers to the disenfranchised.

“The Congo can be a crazy country,” he says. “A great country but a crazy one, that’s for sure.

“I grew up fast. I had to learn responsibilities and to survive. It was sink or swim and when I say survive, I mean survive.

“The war was awful. But it is always there and becomes normal.”

An estimated five million people have died since 1996 in two civil wars.

King has always worked to help his family, including his mum, Safi – short for Sapphire.

“I want to change my family’s financial situation,” King says.

“Sometimes, we were just eating rice or bread and butter. Being world champion didn’t cross my mind. I just saw an opportunity to bring hope to the people who care about me.

“My dad is proud of what I’ve achieved so far. When he goes back to Congo, he takes pictures of me to show people and tells them about my story.”

Now aged 27, King’s first eight professional outings were all in the UK before a spell competing abroad in Russia.

“I had to go because nobody wanted to face me but I learned a lot,” King says.

“It was taking around 30 hours to get there, taking three different flights, and I’d arrive 48 hours before getting in the ring sometimes. But again, it taught me to always be ready, always in shape and always in top condition.

“I’m looking to kick on now and get some really big fights. Who knows? We might eventually even be able to get one back in Congo, which would be something else.”

King joined Shane McGuigan’s training stable upon his return to England and is now sparring with fighters such as Adam Azim in a gym that also includes world champions Caroline Dubois and Ellie Scotney.

“I came into this for the money but I wasn’t making a penny,” King says.

“I’ll give myself 10 years to try and do something. If it doesn’t happen, at least I know I’ll have given it a shot.”