Roland Travas
rolandtra...@gmail.com
The winds of change were sweeping colonial Africa
in the 1960s. The Europeans were awarding
independence to their former territories, although
there were problems for France in Algeria, for
Belgium in the Congo and for the British in
Southern Rhodesia. White South Africa with its
Apartheid policies was another complex issue
altogether. The British-administered lands of
Kenya, Tanganyika, Uganda and Zanzibar were given
self-determination in the early sixties --
Tanganyika in 1961, Uganda in 1962, Kenya and
Zanzibar towards the latter part of 1963.
The colonial administration in Kenya had its problems during
the Kikuyu rebellion earlier on, but at the time of
independence there was a relative peaceful transition for all
of British East Africa.
Zanzibar and its sister island of Pemba where my family lived
was a Protectorate ruled by a Resident who represented the
Queen of England. The majority of inhabitants were Africans
at the bottom of the political, economic and social levels.
The land-owning Arab minority had a Sultan whose origins lay
in Oman in the Gulf. The Asians, predominately Indians,
Pakistanis and small number of Chinese, controlled the trade
in the islands.
The Goans who numbered in the hundreds fitted
somewhere in between. Because of their Catholic
upbring and on account of their being Portuguese
citizens, they were classified differently by the
British. Many Goans worked in government, banking
and in the private sector. Others were tailors or
craftsmen. Political power was solely in the hands
of the Europeans with the Sultan serving their
interests.
Each community lived within its sphere. Each went to its
place of worship, formed cultural and social and economic
alliances. Non-Africans had it relatively good in all areas
of life. One needs to understand this reality to follow what
happened next.
The British handed the political reins to the Arab-minority
Zanzibar Nationalist Party, and left. The Africans were
disenfranchised and the status quo remained. Within a month,
a violent African-led revolution occurred, toppling the new
government and changing the entire dynamic of the small, two
island nation state.
On Sunday, January 12, 1964 we awoke to the news of fighting
taking place in Zanzibar. Then it became apparent that a
major change was in the making. The government had been
overthrown and a revolutionary one was in the process of
replacing it.
Fighting was still going on. My first thoughts were of my
father who had gone to Zanzibar to enroll me in high school
there. There was no communication between the two islands as
all services had been disrupted. What little we could learn
was from the radio stations on the mainland and via the BBC.
In a few days what became increasingly clear was
the grim details of killings, violence and chaos
including the brutal shootings of five Goans who
had been returning from church services. The
revolutionary junta took over and consolidated its
hold on power. Some sort of normality returned
between two islands. Shipping, transportation and
other services resumed and my father returned.
These were trying times to say the least. There were all
sorts of shortages and food and basics were almost
unavailable. There were reprisals against members of the
elite, former government officials and supporters. Many
others were arrested for no apparent reasons. There were
open-air trials, flogging and incarceration. Some were never
heard off again from reports one read later. People lived in
a constant state of fear.
At the onset of the revolution, the Sultan had fled into
exile in Britain; right afterwards, in the ensuing melee, the
Arab land owning class and politicians lost their lands and
were either killed or imprisoned. The Asians had their
businesses and their properties nationalized and were told to
leave. An extreme form of cleansing and Africanization began
to take hold.
My parents' businesses were taken over and it
became clear that foreigners were no longer wanted
here. It is in predicament that my parents booked a
berth for us to move to Goa. We were all eager to
leave although we were apprehensive. On the one
hand, we had to forsake the life that we had known
and, on the other hand, we were also unsure of what
lay ahead. The ship docked at Mombasa, Kenya. The
sea was calm and the journey peaceful but the time
was clouded by the terrible events we had gone
through.
When we landed in April of 1964, Goa was itself in a
transition state. The Portuguese had left -- rather, made to
leave -- in 1961 and it became part of
