MOVING TO THE U.K. -- A LAND WE HAD ONLY HEARD OF Mervyn Maciel mervynels.watuwasha...@gmail.com
Did I ever think of leaving Kenya, the land of my birth? Never! Did I ever feel my job would soon be Africanised? Not really. I knew that I would one day have to go, but never thought the end would come so soon. Many of my African colleagues and even my own immediate boss had felt that my services would be required for a long time. How shocked I was when a work colleague who had travelled to the Kenyan national capital of Nairobi on duty, found out that among some of the executive posts that were to be Africanised, mine was one of them. I just couldn't believe this when he relayed the news to me in a phone call. My immediate boss had not heard of it either and was equally surprised. But then, I had to remind myself that I was serving under an African government and not the colonial government I once served. Politicians had promised the Kenyanisation of the civil service -- but now, the clamour for Africanisation as opposed to Kenyanisation had become louder. We had to think fast. Recounting out experiences during that terrible bloody revolution in Zanzibar, we felt we had to leave this beautiful country we loved so much and move to the United Kingdom -- a land we had only heard of. Some friends had described it as the land of milk and honey. We had no friends there apart from my cousin Jock Sequeira and his family who had moved there a year earlier after his own post as Education Officer was due to be Africanised. In addition to a very modest compensation package we, the 'Forgotten Men' were given -- modest in comparison with the over-generous package our European colleagues got -- I was also given six months notice on full pay. So there was ample time to look for a job once we got to the U.K. It was sad to leave a country and people we loved so much. There was much heart-ache when we finally left Nairobi for London en route Entebbe. It was sad to part from our old faithful cook (Magama Nyangechi) who always told me that I would be in my job forever!! We promised we would keep in touch. Our reception at Heathrow airport in London was very friendly, with one of the airport officials welcoming us with open arms. It was the summer of 1966 and the climate seemed no different from that of Kenya when we arrived in England. I wondered about all those 'scare stories' we'd heard from friends about the English weather. Little did I just then realize then that there was worse to come in the months ahead! For a few months, we were the guests of my dear cousin Jock and his family at their Latimer Road home in Wimbledon. How they agreed to accommodate six of us (Elsie, sons Clyde and Andrew, and very young daughters Josey and Pollyanna, who was a mere babe in arms then), when they had a large family of their own, I shall never know. But we all remain ever grateful for their hospitality. I had six months leave on full pay and didn't feel the need to look for a job immediately. I was taking life a trifle too easy, thinking that, like in Kenya, houses were easy to come by. Mortgages and visits to the bank manger were alien animals to me. I thought it would all be plain sailing. How wrong I was. After staying in a guest house in Wimbledon for a few weeks, through the sheer encouragement of another cousin (Rita nee Sequeira), I finally made the effort to get off my backside and start looking for somewhere to live. We went to several estate agents, building societies, liked a house and lost it since someone had ready cash had paid for it and moved in sooner. I had to go through the building society, obtain a mortgage (the very word was Greek to me!) and so on. To cut a long story short, we, finally, after seeing and losing two lovely properties we liked, moved into our present residence in Sutton, Surrey. Since this was a small terraced house in comparison to the spacious government-provided bungalow I was given in Kenya, we decided to call our home 'manyatta' (a little hut, and that's what it is!). Despite its size though, we have entertained many guests from various nationalities over the years. Jobs in those days were easy to come by and I had no difficulty finding one. The only irritation I felt was when officials at he job centre asked me, what I can only describe as a stupid question: "Do you have any London experience?". How on earth did they expect one who has just arrived in the country to have London experience? Didn't take the first job I was offered since a friend (Tilak Castellino) suggested that I take a job at the firm he had just moved from and where my salary would be higher than what I had been offered earlier. My first impressions of the English office worker were not impressive. Whereas I found I could do a whole day's job in a matter of a few hours, I found many of my colleagues making a 'mountain' of what I considered to be a simple clerical job. Bored with having not much to do, I moved to a job nearer home, stayed with them for a few years and moved yet again and finally to a supervisory job where I had eight staff (mostly European) working under me; something unheard of in colonial Kenya! When I was finally made redundant, I remained unemployed for nearly a year, then took on a job helping the son of a former colleague set up in business. I worked for this young man (Tom McHugh) for some years and when things got difficult (in the country's economy), I left and decided to do some voluntary work which I do to this day and enjoy. My wife (Elsie) and children have been a great support all along. My family and I have never encountered any discrimination whether at work or elsewhere; in fact, the locals have gone out of their way to make us feel at home. We've got on well with all races, made a lot of new -- friends English, Welsh, Scots, Irish, Polish, Russian, Hungarian, Romanian -- not forgetting our own Indian friends comprising Muslims, Hindus, Sikhs, Ismailis and others. In fact, our very first English friends were the parents of a plant breeder (Dick Little) who had only recently come out to Kenya from England. He could never understand why we were leaving this beautiful sunny country to go to a dull and dreary England! We've achieved a lot while in England. Elsie was the first Goan to have her 'Goan Cookery Book' published in England, a book that went into three editions and is still sought after. Two years later, I caught up with her by publishing my own memoirs, 'Bwana Karani', and, much, much later -- in 2014 to be precise -- I published my second book, 'From Mtoto to Mzee'. All in all, despite the English weather, we feel very much at home here in England although, I must admit I miss both Kenya and my native Goa! -- Mervyn Maciel is a vetran in the Goan diaspora, with rich experiences and a considerable role in community participation. Send feedback and comments to him at the address above with a cc to goa...@goanet.org