“Mother Africa’s Fall”
During a visit from a friend, I learned that he was organising an event to commemorate the Ugandan Expulsion of Asians of August 1972, given it was almost 50 years since it happened.
I didn’t know much about the event at the time, but I had just started writing poetry again. My friend asked me to create a poem for the event he had planned on September 10th ’22 in Leicester, UK.
I found it difficult to capture the most poignant details, whilst keeping the poem a manageable length. So, I ended up writing two poems!
Soon, “Mother Africa’s Fall” will be published on this page – watch this space. “Mother Africa’s Fall” is the long version, intended for all those who survived and settled outside of the UK.
To listen to the shorter version, “90 Days”, specific to those who settled in the UK, select the ‘Learn More’ button below.
Bitten Britain
Chapter 1
Fate and fever were written,
Bold Baba Britain was bitten
By the African Mama exotic,
Nubian and mysteriously Nilotic.
She was full of deep heat and drumbeat,
How beautiful she was after rain poured;
Her feathered fronds of fecund floor.
She wore black and green this Queen.
Where she was naked, and seen,
Scorched ochre skin where others had been
Wild and roaming creatures free,
A sense of living dangerously,
Amongst the tall tropical trees;
The exotic shrill of cicadas a tease…
The Conception
Chapter 2
Buganda’s lakes intersect with old scars,
Revealing red dust, lit only by the stars;
Panoramic views from peaks up high,
Breath-taking greenery & scenery belies…
The tattoo in motion caused low commotion.
Her skin explored by foreign fingers,
Sending charge, some excitement lingers,
Extending large, across her fertile land,
Britain counting with a second hand –
Taking time to understand,
How to conquer by divide,
How this conquest can provide.
An investment in an economical treasure;
Coffee & cotton to be of substantial measure.
A new life founded work and leisure,
Dawoodi Bohras the busy business builders,
Were the first with a thirst to thrive.
Punjabis laboured with insistence,
To cover distance with persistence,
Followed by farming Patels & cows’ bells;
Workman’s boots embedding roots.
Goans brought textiles and skills in fashion,
The Sikhs brought blacksmiths & carpentry & passion.
The Pregnancy
Chapter 3
And so a trimester begins,
And a new life with kins.
Seeds sown in lush lands,
Taken care of by many hands;
Three generations or more,
Hard work, tears and sweat at its core.
The growth promised and forever more.
Cultivating crops to sell in shops,
Building ranches and roads,
And beautiful hotels and abodes!
Peace and temples with glorious beauty,
Treasures borne of laborious duty…
They created restaurants with palms,
Making Jewels and charms,
Building Schools and farms,
Traders founded export firms,
Lawyers rounded expert terms,
Jobs abound for Ugandan towns,
Opportunities to learn and earn!
Uganda’s belly bulges and protrudes,
Ripe with succulent fruit and foods,
She is pregnant with unborn wealth,
અમે (Ame) are Regnant, enriching her health.
Endless possibilities, with Sugar & Spices,
But no-one could have imagined, the onslaught of crises…
Induced Labour
Chapter 4
Mother Africa’s children couldn’t understand,
That wealth came from hard working hands,
And using business skills to pay bills..
And so resigned to see a different kind;
Worlds of luxury and labour separated,
Hurled into drudgery & poverty fated,
Never mind being generously compensated…
An appetite for undeserving wealth was satiated…
Derived from an ancient land,
Contrived & common hand,
3 vertical scars on his eyes;
Violent and culpable of lies.
Swahili language, Arabian roots,
A brute in size and ferocious attitude –
Acute in lies and gross in platitudes;
Hideous and insidious,
Decorated but hated,
Revered but feared,
Idi Amin was seen as callous and mean,
A Kings African Rifles soldier; attacker keen.
Yet the seed of hate was initially planted,
By Milton Obote whose own sentence was granted,
In a coup, his fate, after orders sent, late.
Though Indophobia, an exaggerated trait –
Did a message of hate by deed, dictate.
Slander and propaganda in Uganda;
Bureaucracy and democracy never their strong suit, Favouring weaponry and fists and torture to boot.
And so the sentence was formed,
And so Amin and his troops stormed…
The Fall
Chapter 5
90 days with which to move,
A mighty phase for those removed,
Queues confused with what to do,
Passports, papers, please what to prove?
An exodus ensues, Idi Amin amused…
The limit told was Fifty pounds,
The toll however was fifty rounds.
The bones of cases piled up high,
Burned under the beating Sun and sky.
Delays and only days to exit this maze,
Of deliberate exclusion, surely delusion?
Mother Africa poisoned by her own;
An induced labour of precious child grown,
The womb of plenty was now a tomb of empty.
This Queen was now an envious green;
If the Asians stayed, they were surely slayed.
Motivation it seemed, were shillings and cents.
Justification deemed was killings incensed.
Compounding menace and beleaguered then,
Surrounded by jealous and meagred men,
Soldiers mobilised, Businesses paralysed,
Which granted the greed, The greedy freed…
To steal, and stab, and pillage, and rape,
And beat, and spit, and shoot, and berate…
The road to Kampala was peppered in red,
At checkpoints, it was clear some were already dead.
Heated debate amongst locals with guns,
Bleated hate and angst… Speaking in tongues,
Families, pleaded to protect their young.
Some were left without a son,
Husbands, wives, siblings too,
Had either died or had to start anew.
But either way, the horrors they lived through,
Were so unreal, it had to be untrue!
Some were able to flee and flew.
Adoption
Chapter 6
Despite despair, scarred and scared,
They had narrowly escaped a nightmare.
Here, and there, new curious faces stared,
To 80,000, new homes now shared,
The lucky ones, filled their lungs with cooler air.
Resettlement camps across the world,
Ugandan natives, from the African ‘Pearl’;
Left bereft, a Commonwealth adoption,
Besides death, this was their only option.
Their new siblings were curious,
Some unforgivably injurious,
There was some fear, some compassion,
Some just ridiculed the fashion,
Others were generous and kind,
Some paid them no mind.
Springtime
Chapter 7
But during 50 years they would find,
A treasure of kind people who shined,
Even when everything had been taken,
And their families left shaken;
Their homes, their jobs, their cars,
With faith in the protection from stars,
Like the diamonds in their hair, once forbidden,
The strength within, strong but only hidden,
Each wrist allowed just one gold band,
The twisted symbol of having bound hand,
But the metal was melted tirelessly by kin,
The fire Amin alluded to, actually burned within.
Anger and determination for competition,
Possibly fuelled their future mission,
Now their position is quite possibly the definition,
Of ambition, striving for better recognition,
From musicians to Politicians,
Whilst Uganda sank into remission,
And suffered the truth of contrition.
But now the Indian Gomez is worn,
And new Ugandan leaders are born!
So Asians are now safe and sound,
And some now earn British pound.
Now saved, as this nation paved,
The way for future generations,
And future celebrations like Diwali in Belgrave!
And in humble Leicester they say,
That here, all that glitters is gold!
Take The Golden Mile where jewellery is sold,
Where styles of saris are colourful and bold,
Take a stroll, where rotis & paans are rolled,
Spices and incense unusual and intense
Golden Gods of all shapes and sizes;
All manner of welcome surprises,
Flourished, not impoverished,
Cherished, not perished,
We will always recall that particular fall…
Where thankfully, in Spring, a generation grew tall
