At a gallop across my fifty years in the UK. Over many aeons of time man like an inexorable tide has been crossing continents and oceans. Early primitive man, foraging, ever moving, seeking to survive, guided only by his need. Gradually evolving into roving bands, communal man, family man, clans, nations, villages, towns, and cities created in his wake. The tide still flows today of man and men fleeing to unknown places, unknown lands, ever seeking some small place to fulfil themselves in peace. Even as our earth evolves and revolves so too do we her children. But yesterday, yesterday cities with walls and ramparts stood the invader to repel. And today, today with razor wire and land mines some surround themselves. South Korea, Thailand, Pakistan, India, USA, Israel, and here and there, where next, snaking across the wide world, man from man to keep. Barriers or ramparts ever so high, so deep, so wide, of steel and concrete, or distant oceans will they ever stop the flow of the tide of man? One mellow sunny morning in May l957, the French liner SS Colombie docked at Plymouth. Amidst a crowd of fellow hopefuls I made my way through the Customs post. After a few pre-functionary questions we joined our train for Paddington, London. After all we were British Citizens. Two weeks ago I had left the warm tropical waters of the Caribbean for the unknown of England. The twelve days from Trinidad had slid by. The arrival was all that mattered. It must have been in February when I had a letter from our mother. Sidney and Praim, she said had sent some money help pay my passage to England. They thought that I would be able to make a new start there. Needless to say this was a shock at first. But I had to grab it. I grabbed it like a drowning man would the rope thrown him. Even now I cannot recall how I seemed, not to have thought of the wider implications of migrating overseas. With a vague idea of working in the UK and sending monies to support my family, then eventually sending for them, was about it. With no prospects of employment in sight in Guyana I had to take the chance. Latterly I have thought how short sighted I was as to the perils I was leaving my family to face Early in April l957, I left Georgetown, Guyana by a small cargo vessel for Trinidad.. A week later I left Trinidad by a French liner the Colombie, and arrived at Plymouth twelve days later. Travelling economy class, meant, a ‘couchette’ in a dormitory like room, with many three high tiers of bunks. We had our meals in a segregated (from the upper class passengers) dining area, and we were restricted to one deck. My first encounter with French food was not promising. But like so much else on this voyage you had to accept your limited situation. But with fair daytime weather we watched the ships progress. The days went by with little to do but watch the distant endless horizons. Now and then schools of dolphins could be seen frolicking ahead of the ships prow as it bisected the waves. Sometimes we saw flying fishes whilst in Caribbean waters We docked at Plymouth early on the morning of the 7th. May 1957. My first sight of England and the distant memories of my school days kicked in bringing back those seemingly endless facts we had to learn. The carpet green of the shores seemed so beckoning. We disembarked a little later. I made the journey by train to Paddington, London. It was a strange feeling. Where will this voyage end? But on the train chatting to other hopefuls we gave each other a little boost. That journey to London was like a photo album opening before our eyes as place names of the Railway stations passed by. But now, I had hope, I could earn a living, all I needed was a job With my fibre suitcase and some subdued anticipation I stepped off the train at Paddington station. I was lost for a few moments in this huge cathedral of travel; lost amidst the moving crowd, peering about for a friendly face. Then out of the crowd came Sydney. A few forgotten words, a hug and then we were off to make our way by the Underground to Balham, South London. This was another first, down a moving stair into the bowels of the earth, and then into this rumbling train, away we went, walls and posters, flitting by. Like my ancestors, before me, some one hundred and thirty years ago, I too had left my family, a wife and four children. My ancestors had left India for some unheard of place, British Guiana, to labour on the sugar plantations, fleeing the turmoil and terror, famine and the early struggles for independence. So too, I was now fleeing from Guyana, unemployment and the coming political storms. My two younger bothers already in London then were Sydney who met me and Praim. Sydney was a gentleman’s tailor working the West End, and Praim worked for the Greater London Council at Westminster. These were strange days, new sounds, and sights, amidst a sea of white faces. A day or two later directed by Sydney, I went the local Employment Office where I registered for work. It was an odd experience; sitting in a cubicle being interviewed But I was not daunted. At the end the interviewer told me to call back in few days when he hoped he might have found ‘something’ for me. I also visited the Library in Balham and made a few tentative walks around the area. What a feast for the eyes and the senses in spite of the scarcities of those early post war years. When I went to the Employment exchange again an interview was arranged for me at the Automobile Association in Leicester Square. Sydney had given me some suitable clothing and so I could present myself. This was my first trip about London on my own. Again into the ‘Underground’ armed with a map, and off with the rattle and clatter of the rails, but I made it. I walked into the foyer of this imposing building in Leicester Square. A few words to the Doorman and I was taken to an office for the interview. This was a completely new experience for me. I had never before seen the insides of a large commercial company in England. However I was not over awed of the interviewer. I knew the interview went successfully. I didn’t have long to wait, a letter arrived, and I was offered a job. I began work at the Automobile Association in Leicester Square, London on the second week in May l957. The weekly wages was £7.10s. It was to be a temporary clerical position for three months. But it was more than that it was a beginning. I went to work by the Underground. Every day brought new sights and new experiences. It was already warm enough so I could have a snack in the open air at lunch times. There was a glow in me as I watched the constant milling of people all intent on their own journeys. I would walk around Piccadilly Circus taking in the shop windows and atmosphere. The best High Street in Georgetown, Guyana faded into insignificance against the glam and glitter here. In the underground station there were hundreds of people rushing hither and thither. Like some tidal wave I was caught up in it. In the next few weeks I had settled into the routine of office work. Being in London’s ‘West End’ was exhilarating. It did a lot for my moral. In between places were becoming alive, and not merely names you read or heard about. Here they were Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square, the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, the Thames, and The Tower of London. Places I had met on the pages of my history and geography books, the cinema or newspapers now came alive. At last, I was working I had a job. It was a revelation to realise how much of London and England in general was imprinted in our school years. You could not help but think, but for the colour of my skin I was as English as the next person. At first I had a room in a small flat where Praim lived. With a cooker stuck on the landing, I had to shop and cook for myself. With flashbacks of being around when my mother was cooking I had some insight so I managed somehow. But there were other surprises; there was no bath in the house, so it was a weekly trip to the communal ‘Bath House.’ You paid your sixpence for a towel and a bath full of lovely hot water to soak away the troubles. Double-glazing did not exist; so most houses were draughty and cold. I was now this brown person lost in a sea of ‘white.’ I saw Stanley mostly at weekends and met some of his friends. For me life began to take some shape. I was enjoying working in an office again. But I needed to find a better-paid ‘permanent’ job. Sometime later I moved to a better bed-sit in Carmina Road, Balham, as the one in Balham Grove was poorly heated and damp. There were still many bombed sites around giving fleeting impressions of those hard days of the war. By careful spending I sent some money home each week for my wife Esme and my family. These were really hard times, counting the pennies was never more insistent. I had quite a surprise in June, when I heard that one of my sisters Jesse, her husband Arun and their young son Tariq had come to the UK. Since their marriage, I had seen little of them so it was a real surprise. It seems that Aruns’ relatives must have had some input in their decision to leave Guyana. I did not realise it then but the exodus from Guyana, begun as a result of the worsening political instability, was rising. It would be some weeks before we did meet. So suddenly there were six members of our family in England. Praim then bought a short-term lease in a three-bedroom house in Brixton. Around August I moved over to Praims place thus saving on the cost of rent and being nearer to the West End a saving on train fares also. However I still had to find a better paid job, so sometime in September, I popped in to the Labour exchange at Brixton and got an interview for a job as a storekeeper. It was a small firm, in a somewhat dilapidated four-storied building on a corner off Camberwell New Road with an annexe in Camberwell New Road. It had the advantages, there would be no tube fares, I could walk to work and the wages they offered was better and after a trial period of one month, to be revised then. I accepted and once again I had changed the direction of our future. My self-esteem grew in bounds as I rose to the challenge of my new job. Although I wrote Esme fairly regularly, I must have taken it for granted that she would manage. How short sighted and wrong I was. At this time large-scale migration to England of people from the colonies was on the rise. In another year the British were encouraging migrants to come to help man their Railways, the Buses, the Hospitals, the ‘Clothing Industry’ and many more. The influx of migrants from the ‘colonies’ soon added their skills and industry to the NHS, London Transport, the Railways, and became the myriad of unseen workers in the UK. The tide had turned and like lost souls of long departed Englishmen returning home, seeking a resting place they came. Sadly there were those who were ill equipped and had to take the most menial of tasks. But they gave their sweat and toil to help England rise from those dark post war days For me I had very few if any adjustments to make to living in England. In a way our lives in our home and at work in Guyana mirrored that of the UK. Our education was on par with the UK. One of the major advantages given us by our father was his heavy investment in private education for all of his children. Nine of us had successfully taken the then equivalent of O & A levels in about eight or nine subjects. I had no language barrier. I had almost ten years experience working in a government office in several different positions, and so stepped in with little effort. The ‘colour’ problem was yet in its infancy. It was more subtle, “no vacancies” when applying for work or somewhere to live. People moving or sitting away from you in places like restaurants or pubs. Sometimes there were odd comments about your racial origin or worse. I however found that command of the language and a pleasant smile opened many doors. My brother-in-law Arun initially had some difficulty in finding work at first but then both he and Jesse settled down. I did eventually see them now and then. The political situation in Guyana had worsened. There were riots, looting, and general mayhem across the country. As the situation deteriorated, law and order fell by the wayside. The Guyana of my youth, those happy days in the safety of our family were being destroyed. The Guyana where our six peoples lived in harmony was being plunged into disarray. The rise of political awareness spearheaded by the People’s Progressive Party led to their1953 victory at the polls. But the ‘Socialist’ acts of this government were too much for the “establishment” (Read the UK Government, Sugar Plantation Owners, big Business, the Canadian monopoly of Guyana’s Bauxite industry and so on.) The word socialist meant Communist, and Communist meant Russian. The paranoia of the times the “Russian Bear” had to be stopped. Castro’s Cuba had to be crushed. And so 133 days later the British Government ordered the suspension of the constitution. Part of the “charges” Guyana was being “turned into a Communist state.” British troops were hurried in warships and aircraft to Georgetown, Guyana. They asked, “Where’s the war?” They had been told they were being sent to put down a Communist coup. But where was it? From then on Guyana drifted into anarchy. At work I was making good progress. It was a small company of importers, owned by an odd couple, Marie and Percy. They were ‘partners’ although they lived apart. In some way Marie was an eccentric. She had an air of station about her. She had a son, a chauffeured Austin Princess, a flat in Hampstead and she shopped at the “Army and Navy Stores” in Victoria. But she was kind and sympathetic at times. I seemed to have impressed her. As the business began to prosper I was allowed the use of their small van. Now I was able to get about a bit more. There were just five employees, a salesman, a bookkeeper, a telephonist cum orders clerk, a van driver and myself Storekeeper and despatch clerk. The stores were in the main building. There was a cellar also accessed from an opening through the pavement. There was a hand operated lift by which we moved the goods to the upper floors. We also had a small area almost a kitchen, with a gas cooker and water supply. It was great for making tea and coffee to go with our sandwiches. For the next eighteen or more months I really enjoyed working for them. But above all it helped rebuild my self-esteem. The management were also generous at Xmas time, giving each one Xmas hampers of a turkey and some other festive goods. Praim was still working for the London County Council and was doing well. He had given up on his studying. He was very much concerned about his leg. Struck down by polio at two years of age; he had obtained a special support to help. I don’t think anyone understood how deep this disability affected him. Then we had another surprise. One day at work I had a call, my father had sent my youngest brother Omar over to England, and he expected us to arrange his schooling and keep him. I collected Omar then aged fifteen from the family friend who had brought him over. After the initial interview he was accepted at the local secondary school. Again, it took but little persuasion for the headmaster to place him in his normal year class. So Praim and I went to work and Omar to school and all went well for a time. Later on Omar then begun to hang about with friends and his studies suffered. Over a period of time I became aware that the need to adapt and adopt was a necessity. In future years I would come to believe an ability to do this was of great importance in life. To rid ones self of the burden of ill feelings towards others and to “forgive” was an asset. To cultivate a positive attitude in all you do, and to accept that there will always be things that you cannot ever change. Do what’s best for you, and for those for whom you care. Teach your mind to cleanse itself of things that might infringe on its well-being is an imperative. Fear of the annihilation of yourself by any thing or any person, must be understood overcome and be disposed of. Others may subject you to physical violence or by domination, by demeaning you, and other more subtle ways to undermine your self-confidence. But you must truly understand that with the exception of physically assaulting you, that it is in you and your mind lie your greatest danger. Mens sana in corpore sano? It was at this time that I began to add to my expertise at DIY in the UK. I learnt to hang wallpaper. There is one project that I looked back on with some consternation. Although there was a room for a bath in the house it had none. That meant a weekly trip to the ‘Council Bath House’. However there was a steel bath in the garden of the house. On inspection it was found to be in good condition. Praim and I decided to make use of it. How we managed to drag it up two flights of stairs, using ropes and planks of wood was I shudder at the thought, but somehow we did. I then purchased the fittings and plastic piping, polythene, which had just been introduced in the market. We also bought a second hand gas water heater. With limited skills and not a little disregard for the dangers, I made the water connections, and drainage. I then made the gas connections so and we had a bath in ‘our house’. Another of my sisters, Ouma then came to England in l958 and also moved in with us. She too soon found a job as a secretary at a firm of solicitors in Westminster. There was no doubt that this was again due to our good educational grounding. The deterioration of the political situation in Guyana was continuing to force the exodus to Canada, the USA and the UK. Of course many of these migrants were a source of trained and educated workers. The rise of Negro domination in Guyana was fuelling all kinds of atrocities. A great part of the city’s commercial area was burnt down. The years’ l960 to l964 was to see the direct intervention of the UK and the USA. Their unseen hands and the CIA’s subversion of the democratic process were well documented by various media. This was subsequently confirmed in documentation released under the US Statute of limitations Act. This intervention ensured the domination by the Negroes and installed the Burnham ‘dictatorship.’ Omar continued to neglect his schooling. Both Praim and I were busy with our own lives, and so could bring little to bear on his. He eventually gave up going to school, found a job, and moved away.Sometime later there was some disagreement between Ouma and Praim so she decided to move to Balham. A friend of Sydney, Henry, had bought a large house and was willing to let it to him at a special rental. I too moved to Balham shortly afterwards. We would help out painting and decorating and doing odd chores in lieu. At that time Sydney was ever the gay bachelor, out at weekends, dancing and socialising. On the odd occasion we would go to see wrestling at the Wimbledon Palais.From time to time I met other people from Guyana at Henry’s. Even then the practice of migrants moving into a certain area where others from their background had settled had begun. This probably helped us to have some sense of belonging. The move proved a timely one for all of us, for early in 1960 I had a letter from my father. With the situation in Guyana going further downwards and with an eye my family’s welfare he thought it be best for two of my children, my elder son and elder daughter, to join me. I was then able to rent the three rooms on the second floor of the house for us, which were still being redecorated. With the purchase of some good second hand furniture and two beds their rooms were made ready. My sister Ouma made up some curtains and other bits. They flew to Port of Spain, Trinidad and there joined a ship to the UK. After some twelve trying days at sea, they arrived in the UK. Later I was to hear and understand how risky a trip it was for two unaccompanied children. Luckily they had arrived safely. I went to meet them at Southampton. Sydney’s friend Henry took me in his car. I could still see those two little smiling faces coming down the gangway. I sucked deeply as I tried to stifle those warm tears. These were happy but trying days; suddenly I was a parent again. It was simple enough to have them enrolled into school, but now I had to cater for three. Gradually we settled down to some kind of routine, they would be off to school or their little chores and I to work. My daughter was now a very pretty young lady and a keen Elvis fan. We hired our first TV and often spent some time viewing together. My son soon made friends and generally seemed to be doing well at school. Sadly it was not and it would be many years later that I heard of the racial taunts and put downs that he had had to endure. I would often look back at this time in our lives and wonder how we managed. To fit in all my roles, father and breadwinner of two families and them, to adjust to the strange country and people amongst whom we now lived. That we succeeded more often than not is truly amazing. The goods sold by at the firm, came from Germany. The suppliers were manufacturers and exporters of abrasive products to many industries in the UK, steel, woodworking, leather trades and car manufacturing. Soon there were obvious signs that the business was beginning to prosper. We now had an additional salesman, and another larger van. The van driver and I would go to Bishops Gate Railway yard to collect the incoming goods weekly. As we expanded into some re-manufacturing the premises in Camberwell were becoming too small. The incoming stocks were increasing continuously. There were now two further employees making the “endless belts,” and then a salesman followed. During this time I was to meet customers who would come up to London to collect supplies. I was getting accustomed to their varying accents. The Cockneys in the area, that of Mr. Davies, who was Welsh, the owner of the Bermet Co. from Tunbridge Wells, but most amusing the van driver from Northampton. He would arrive with his old van with its special aroma, in which he also transported pigs. It was always a job to follow what he was saying. It was about now that I had my first venture outside London. I went to deliver some special abrasive rolls to the firm called Progressive Finishes in Northampton. They were suppliers to the shoe manufacturing industry. Once I joined the M1 I marvelled at it’s the massive carriageways. Like the first flicker of a dragons tongue out of London it came heralding the invasion of many more. It was then only completed up to Northampton. A few months later I went along with the management on an outing to view a likely site for relocation at Thetford in Norfolk. A new town was being built offering new industrial sites and homes for employees. I took my two children and we had an enjoyable outing. We were treated to afternoon tea and the Sales Manager was particularly friendly and kind to them. The company however did not choose to relocate. Things took a turn, when a disagreement with my employers over a promised increase in my wages caused me to leave. We couldn’t arrive at a compromise and I felt I needed to find a better paid job. At this time it was fairly easy to find work. The following week I decided to try London Transport. Because of my being colour-blind I could not become a bus driver or work on the railways. But I was offered a job as a bus conductor. So after a fortnight’s training fully kitted out I was let loose on the buses. I worked from the garage at Stockwell. The first few days I had a supervisor on board and then I was on my own. The wages was a lot better and in addition there was free travel on the busses and the underground, free uniform and a subsidised canteen. There’s little doubt that the extra wages was my main concern. At first as part of my induction, there was a constant change of drivers and routes as I settled in. It was during this time I came across some odd characters. There was the ‘conscientious driver’ who always stuck to the timetable and so we regularly carried a full load of passengers. Then there was an Irishman and a Jamaican, they were pass masters at defeating the timetable, by either running early or running late and so causing the bus ahead or behind us to do most of the work. Next was an Englishman who never spoke to me. Our only communication was via the signals on the bell I gave to move on or stop the bus. No prizes for guessing his feelings were racial. Time flew by as I worked on many different routes, learning the street names, place names all around London and the suburbs. In a few months I had mastered the job and now had regular driver on route 88. We worked well as a team. Our route was from Sutton in Surrey to Acton in N.W. London, crossing through S. W London, through to Lambeth, Westminster, Oxford Street, to Marble Arch, through Notting Hill Gate, to Shepherd’s Bush and on to Acton. I had learnt a great deal of London. The ever-changing mix of people and the many sights ands sounds of London was part of the picture. I enjoyed this continuing change of place and people as the constant activity caused time to flit by. Looking back at my time on the busses, I found it rewarding, sometimes a little dangerous. Like having to walk in front with a flare and guide the bus during thick fog, or dealing with drunken or irate passengers. London in the early sixties was a cold place to be. Most homes had coal fires or poor inefficient gas fires. Bed-sits were noted for their austerity. In winter for us it was a dismal time. Then there were those long days, and weeks, of awfully debilitating smog. Well do I remember those cold winter nights, wind and rain howling at my feet on the open platform of the bus. These were the days when the millions of chimneys of the country, belching out soot and grime. The clean-air act was yet to come. The next time I came across direct racial undertones, was when I had to report for a disciplinary hearing. A complaint had been made against me. The Garage Superintendent, found room to make some scathing remarks to me along the lines “you people come over here etc.,” I had enough courage to remind him that it was not a one-way street. I too was contributing to his country’s needs and economy The working times on the buses were on a rotary basis. In seemingly no time at all I had fallen in with the regime. So I’d be up at 3.50 a.m. one week on the first bus out the Garage, the next week maybe 8.00 am, and the following week at 5.30 p.m. until after midnight However this meant that I saw the children less but our little family group shared these times and it helped bring some semblance of normality to our lives In the spring of l962 we were surprised when Sydney decided to get married. He had been seeing a young lady, Marion. The wedding at Lambeth Town Hall was a civil one and was attended by some of his friends, my sister Jesse, husband Arun and I. So there was some reflected joy and happiness in our midst. I probably would have continued to have a career with London Transport were it not for a strike. I could see myself moving into the clerical side as was possible from time to time. I had the experience. Then there was this strike and we were required to work to rule. Suddenly it meant a big drop in wages, no overtime, or special duties or off duty working. Then whilst we were still on strike, I received a phone call from the firm in Camberwell. Invited for a drink and a chat I met the now Sales Manager who I knew. He told me the old company, had been taken over by the German company which supplied their goods. He told me that they wished me to consider returning to work for them and made me an offer of better wages and use of a vehicle. Some days later after thinking it over I decided it would be a good move. There would be a small loss in wages, (overtime working and special duties) no more free travel and free clothing. However it would be an eight to five p.m. working day, and importantly, I would therefore see a lot more of the children. We needed to be together more. Again there would be no more unsocial working hours on the busses especially in the winter months. We had just lived through the awful fog and smog of l960 and l961. There was also the beginning of violence against bus conductors. I needed little prompting as I was beginning to tire of being a bus conductor. Once again a change that was to lead to others. So it was that I rejoined the company. There was now an impetus to further and expand their business. Very soon I was caught up in this push. It did mean that I had more time with the children. The speed with which they were growing up was suddenly more evident. Especially my daughter Amy,she had continued to make good progress at school, ‘a proper little miss.’ My son Basil seemed happy enough; he would be off to play at some of his friends nearby. There were times, sadly, when I thought little of those at ‘home.’ The little money I continued sending was never nearly enough now having as it were two families to cater for. So my wife Esme had to find work on nearby farms. The awful hardship of trying to make ends meet, to cope with two growing children, and the ever- present political turmoil was taking its toll. Her niece Nina who had lived with us was now a grown young woman presented an even greater problem. Esme was forced to seek help from Nina’s sister, but she too found her difficult. She then spent some time with her father. She met and married a Mr. Pandit but the marriage didn’t last and soon she too was eking out an existence. She had moved to Georgetown and Esme saw very little of her. Esme’s mother and uncle had long since lost their independence and were in an old people’s home. These were indeed trying times. So once again I had started another career. I threw myself into work and coped with the challenges as the firm expanded. My status in the company rose and a closer association with the Sales Manager began. A total reorganisation of the storekeeping methods and records by me brought evident success. Introducing the Kalamazoo system (Loose leaf ledgers) did away with the old time ledgers, and brought in better stock control. Some time in l963, Ouma had been advised to return to the tropics as she suffered from ‘poor circulation’ and so she returned to Guyana. Fortunately she was able to rejoin the Civil Service at the Medical Dept. As though I had just looked away for some moments, and then looking back, suddenly I had this vivacious teenage daughter, ready to flit out into the open world. Only youth has this quality of seemingly interminable optimism. My daughter did not return to school in September, but decided to go out to work. In retrospect it was a decision that prevented her achieving a higher educational standard. Possibly I was too preoccupied to judge the situation sensibly. Basil continued on at school. There were dark clouds on our horizon when in May l963 I received some devastating news. Praim, whom we had continued to see from time to time, had been found dead in his flat in the Old Kent Road. Over the years possible because of the size of our family we were mostly always independent minded. As we became adults it became more evident as we tended to keep in touch but meet rarely. We were never a close-knit family. I always knew that living with his disability had grown more difficult for him. We none of us truly know anyone. Of all the great paradoxes of mankind is the truly infinite complexity of the individual mind. How many faces of ourselves we let others see, how many more can only be guessed at. So was it in response to the pain of his disability, unrequited love? No one really knows. It was my sad task to take care of his final stay. It came out later that it might have been unrequited love but also his disability. He had met a young lady from South Africa. Details are scarce but it seems her parents were totally against them. The girl was posted back to South Africa we heard. He had a successful career with the London County Council. I was able to send the condolences they expressed to my father and mother and all the monies he had left. Sydney and I arranged the other details and he was cremated at the South West London Crematorium. It was a sad ending for us all. Amy had started her first job at a company near Victoria. Gradually as the year went by she would be out with friends and soon it was off for an evening at the Streatham Lucarno. Elvis was in full flow and the beehive hairstyle in vogue. Again one more parental chore was collecting her and sometimes her friends later in the evening and seeing them safely home. Luckily I had transport courtesy of the company At the end of l963 there were again plans afoot for the company to move to larger premises. By March l964 they decided to move to Watford in Herts. I was asked to consider moving with the company. There was the possibility of being able to move into a flat nearby and an improvement in my wages and other conditions and the continuing use of a vehicle. We then moved to Watford and with the moving allowance I bought several more very good pieces of second-hand furniture and other requirements. The firm occupied part of a large building in Watford West. We now had adequate space for the warehousing and a separate section for the re-manufacturing .For me it was no great problem, but both Amy and Basil and especially Amy felt much put out. She at first continued to commute to London and for a time found a room in London. Basil was enrolled at a school nearby. Once again a change of my direction had lead, as it were a change in their destiny. Again I became totally absorbed with reorganising and re-establishing the warehouse, the transport and deliveries, which were the areas in which I had been working. More changes followed and we had a specialist machine for slitting large rolls of abrasives. This further reduced the cost by importing less already manufactured goods In addition I was acquiring new skills operating and maintaining the newly arrived “roll slitting” machine, so that I could train up new employees as needed. Two years later expansion in full spate we had a new up to date machine. An engineer from the suppliers came and I was trained in its operation and maintenance and I in turn would train up new operators. The first machine was very primitive; with a wooden clutch and needed more brute force to operate. Watford in those days was a sleepy town and a complete contrast to busy London. The once a week furore of football on Saturdays was one it’s few highpoints. The children were not very enthusiastic but gradually we settled down. We would make occasional visits to London to see Sydney and Marion. We hadn’t heard from or seen Omar during this time. Once again the news from Guyana was disheartening. There was no let up in the near anarchy. I had been writing my father since Amy and Basil’s arrival and had begun to make some payments to him towards their fares, which he had advanced. Sometime in 1965, my father had written saying he thought it would be best if Aileen, my younger daughter, were to come to England. Esme has asked him to assist with her further education in Guyana, but he thought it a better idea that she should join us in UK. Aileen then spent sometime at my parents at in Georgetown and my father made the arrangements for her journey to the UK. In the last few years I had been corresponding with him. Whilst our letters were never totally informal, I could sense a softening in him, and a new connection between us was beginning. How often it has been the case that it’s when you are suddenly deprived of someone, you then realize his or her true importance in your life. I have looked back at those times when my father’s presence, was, in my thoughts, oppressive and over domineering. There were those times when I felt anger and dislike of him, never a tender feeling. Yet when I heard that he had died suddenly, as a result of heart failure, how immense a loss it was could not be denied. It is at these junctures the need to have made your peace with those you love and care about comes to ask the question. There was now no chance of closing that painful gap that existed between us. He had died in 1966. Over the years I have come to understand more of his dreams for us, his caring, and how much we all owe to his unswerving effort to give his children the best. But I also learnt to cast off the burden of the other negative feelings and accept he did it the only way he knew how. Elsewhere I have reflected on how and what were the influences that fashioned him. What yoke he too may have had to bear? The many new journeys we were all to make, the many new trials we were to bear, and we would be sustained on that foundation of independence and knowledge he strove to give to us. At that time I did not know that another of my sisters, Diana had been married and that sadly her husband too had recently died. We received a letter that she would be bringing Aileen with her on her return to the UK. Sadly too for my father, he had missed the final act of seeing his granddaughter off to hopefully a better life. So it was that Aileen, aged thirteen, joined us in mid 1966. Diana returned to London and to work and train as a nurse-midwife. Soon we had Aileen enrolled at school. Amy was still commuting and she and Aileen then shared a bedroom Basil decided that he would leave school and go to work. To his credit he managed to obtain an apprenticeship with a local firm of Printers and Box makers. He moved to a bed sit and was soon making excellent progress and so one more had ‘flown the coop’ as it were. At work I continued to progress, I was now in charge of the Warehouse and Despatch Dept... I was also doing part time evening work for the Accounts Dept. on the Sales Ledger, all helping to augment my earnings. We were now four, but still not a whole family. The Sales Manager was now the General Manager and my closeness with him was a great help. In the long term it was probably this factor, the trust and friendship we shared was to cement my ties with the company for many years to come. He was always approachable and this gave me a sense of belonging, plus the added knowledge of having a secure employment. Of course his estimation was also based on the fact of the energy and industry I brought to the company. It was most important for me to be in work, and be able to keep both us in the UK, and in Guyana. The little ‘house’ I had built in Essequibo was now crumbling under the onslaught of time and weather. Esme’s situation was desperate. I approached the General Manager and arranged a loan to have my younger son Joseph over. Esme would follow a little later. But just about this time the British Government was changing the immigration rules. It was when Esme went to apply for his “entry” to the UK, that she found that being seventeen, he was no longer allowed enter as a dependent. His status had been changed. This was a difficult time. I was in constant correspondence with the Home Office. I then found that there was one possibility, if he were proven to be “destitute” That if his remaining next of kin in Guyana came to England, he would now be ‘destitute’ and so under a ‘compassionate consideration’ would be allowed in. So by bringing forward Esme’s migration to the UK, leaving him in Guyana would make him destitute. It took several letters, a petition to the Home Office and a visit by an immigration officer before it was settled. A flurry of arrangements followed and in mid l968 they both arrived. I had again approached the GM and increased my loan. There was no big celebration but we were a family again. It took time to get to know my son who was just five when I came to the UK It was Eleven years of struggle, hardships, disappointments, and losses. So now there was joy! It took some time before we began to feel at ease with each other. The eleven years of turmoil, despair, and privations for us all had ended. Now we could be begin to be a family again. Joseph was able to work for about a year with me, and he assisted me in repaying the loan. A year later he commenced working for an engineering company in North Watford. One evening there was a ring on the door bell, and there was this hippy with full afro hair style standing there. It took a few moments to realise it was Omar and his girl friend. What a surprise. They stayed the night and we had an enjoyable evening catching up with his doings. A few months later he called to say that he and Olga were married and a few weeks later they were off to Denmark to live. Olga was Danish. Another of my sisters, Carole, her husband Joel and their five children too had left Guyana for to Canada in 1968. Joel had made good progress in the field of radiography and Carole was a qualified SRN and Midwife, and so they had little problem finding work and settling down in Canada. The following year 1969, Diana also migrated to Canada from London. In Guyana my sister Eva, who had gradually lost all her self-esteem and suffered severe depression became ill. Probably because of her loss of interest in life in general she died in l969. In another place and another time she would have received adequate treatment physically and psychological to help her deal with her ‘disability.’ The years that followed were hectic ones. The surge in the young adults in our midst to assert themselves was undeniable. They would be out at weekends socialising in town. Basil was soon to complete his apprenticeship. In the summer of l970 he set off on an adventure across Europe. He and some six or seven friends bought a Transit van and went on a tour of Europe. Their hopes were to be in Germany for the World cup. In Spain they had some unforgettable experiences. They fell foul of Spanish Law, as a result of youthful exuberance. Trying to escape one member of the band broke a leg in a drained swimming pool. Then some were overnight guests in the Spanish gaol. But all in all they enjoyed their bravura days as young men. They continued on their journey and travelled as far down as Morocco, but sadly on the return trip there was a catastrophe. Their van broke down and had to be abandoned on the Autobahn outside Munich. The many twists and turns until their return to England is a tale for Basil to tell. Amy had found employment in computers in Watford and had many new friends. Aileen had been catching up, so that by l970 she too now a seventeen year old and joined the current fashion revolt of the young. Mary Quant and her mini skirt which was all the rage. The Rolling Stones and Jimmy Hendricks filled the airwaves. In the spring of l970, Clara, eldest daughter of my eldest sister Leila came to the UK to take up nursing. She spent her first few days with us and then we took her to the hospital in Middlesex where she began her nursing career. We would have needed extra vision to keep abreast of our children’s lives. Suddenly our flat was too small to contain four lively young adults and their parents. Amy had an ongoing relationship with, Mat a likeable young man. In 1971 Aileen had met a young man James. It wasn’t long before they decided to be married. Amy and Mat decided to buy a property and they moved in together. Basil too had met Lucy and was going steady. He now owned a Matchless 500 motorcycle. Once again he caught the travel bug and with another friend, Graham set off to tour Europe on the motorcycle. Like the first trip it was most eventful and enjoyable. But whilst in Athens, the motorcycle was stolen. Again they were stranded and had to curtail their travel and return home. Joseph had continued working in Watford North; he now had a car and had moved into a bed-sit. Then he too met a young lady Olive, she was a trainee nurse at a local Hospital. Next we moved to a house in, Watford North. It was a large enough house for everyone to have his or her own room and over the year we set about making it more comfortable. It was here too that Esme ventured out into the world of work and in no time at all made good. 1972 was an eventful year our first grandson was born to Aileen and James in March. We were all ecstatic over their newborn. Then one night in October, tragedy struck. James was killed in a road accident. Crossing the road to intercede in fracas, he was struck down by a car. Aileen’s and our family’s desolation was unimaginable. For several months we lived with this gloom. Our only bright spot was young Neil growing up in our midst. Aileen had had two very difficult years, and with some of support from us all, she managed as people do. In 1973 she met and married Sean. In the same year my sister Jesse, husband Arun and their family left UK and migrated to Canada. They had made good progress since l957. Soon they both found employment. They now had three children. In January1974, we celebrated my fiftieth birthday. It was a memorable one for many reasons, but above all we had as it were cemented our family ties. In a flash back, it was also my first real birthday party ever in my life. Remember the austerity of my father’s home. So much was afoot. Basil and Lucy were married with the consent of both families in Feb. 1974. The lives of Amy, Basil, Joseph, Aileen, and grandson Neil were now on their several paths. Our roll as parents had to undergo a change. Theirs was now the time, their future, and as it were at this point, we step aside and hand the tiller to them. The voyage goes on. My brother Sydney and wife, Marion had continued living in the Tooting area of London. Sometime later they moved house to Worthing, Essex. We have continued visiting them over the years, mostly on birthdays, some times at holiday weekends and Xmas, and still do. In a way I was bound up in the continuing success of my employers. For seventeen this had helped me to provide a stable home and the reuniting of my family. In 1974 they decided to move to a purpose built premises in Milton Keynes. So once again it seemed a natural thing for me to move with them to the New City of Milton Keynes in July of that year. Like many who came and heard of the great plans envisaged, I was impressed with the spirit of the enterprise. It would be a city with grid roads, housing in separate ‘estates’ from industry, a new Main Line Railway Station and many beautifully landscaped acres of communal space. A huge shopping centre, a Hospital was to follow, and especially too the escape from the nose to nose cars on the streets of the current towns. Lucy and Basil had their first son, on the day after we moved to Milton Keynes By the first week in July 1974 our brand new building was completed. We were amongst the earliest of companies on this industrial estate. Once again it was my task to organise the new warehouse. At first I travelled up each day, and over a period of two weeks, carried out a planned locating for the stores and labelling and of the shelving system in advance of the move. The re-manufacturing dept was being laid out simultaneously. By mid August 1974 over a period of four days, the massive move took place. The two major departments, the Stores Inwards and Outwards were my responsibility and the other departments and the offices led by their own team. By month we were up and running again. The energy and industry to accomplish this took us to our limits After all the upheaval of the move and early teething, the young families in our midst gradually joined us in this New City. It was an apt time for them to set sail in their own adult lives. There was ample work and housing available in the new City both very important factors. The first was Olive and Joseph, soon finding employment and a new home. They were married in Milton Keynes in 1975. Basil and his family followed. A few months later Esme too found a new niche for herself and it did much for her self-esteem. So it was that Milton Keynes grew around us, with great swathes of roads cutting into the landscape, followed the linear parks, lakes and by many new housing and industrial estates. There was variety, from the earliest semi fabricated ones, to conventional bricks and mortar. So grow it did. Of course there were the times when there was mud on the roads, hold ups with burst mains, heavy machinery, and the clutter and clatter of it all. But I well remember the first ‘Guy Fawkes night’, when the skies were lit up to the sounds of the Warsaw concerto. I had never seen such a grand spectacle. The opening of the shopping centre, all on one floor, a marvel in its day, almost like a cathedral in Glass was a high point. The Hospital came eventually but not until after many years of slogging by patients, to Aylesbury or Northampton. .Over the next years, I had recouped most of the broken connections with my sisters, Leila, Ouma, and Olivia in Guyana. In 1981, a four-week holiday-visit to Guyana gave me a sense of renewal. Initially there was the heightened sense of tension because of the political situation. There were armed policemen at the airport, on the streets of Georgetown and outside business premises. The general rundown of the capital was a shock. Gone was the dream in my memory. But as we spent time with my mother, my sisters and their families we found that not all things had changed and hope prevailed. Esme and I have many happy memories spent at the home of my youngest sister Juulie and Gerald her husband and their children, made us very welcome. We also spent time with my eldest sister Leila, her husband Geoffrey and their children. It was a special reunion as there had always been a closer bond between Leila and myself. Of course her children like mine were now adults with families of their own. We also made contact with Nina who was living with her partner in Riumveldt. In many ways she had become a well-balanced adult. We were happy for them both. Yet not two years later in January, l982 Leila’s eldest son George lost his life in a road accident. This was a great loss especially to his wife and his young family, but to Lleila and Geoff also. We renewed the ties with my best friend Edwin and his wife Beth. Across those many years ago when I left Guyana, and even through those dreadful years of internal strife he had remained a loyal friend of our family. The gap of some twenty-five years had been bridged. True so much was lost, but for me to be being in the presence of my mother was the most poignant. I had always identified with her, as over those many years being the eldest, I was a part of her constant toil for her family. This part of my narrative is this but a compressed look back at my own family. Other relatives, sisters, brothers, and their families enter and leave from time to time. This does not reflect on our continuing family bonds, but sadly on the nature of life. Clara, Leila’s daughter had continued her nursing career, and she married a teacher Josh Samuels, in 1978. They had lived at Enfield, Middlesex where they had two children Charles and Cicely. In response to severe pressure of working in London, the family then decided to move to Scotland in the spring of l987, Josh was from Scotland. The move was proving a success for a time. Esme and I visited in early summer when we heard that Clara was found to have stomach cancer. Our sons Basil and Joseph and their families visited also for they were very close to Clara. The prognosis was not very good. The doctors battled, but she did not survive long after an operation. We all felt the real pangs and desolation of losing a loved one when she died on the l8th October, l987. The company had continued its expansion and had to have their building further enlarged. The tiny firm I had first joined in 1957 had become one of the largest suppliers of abrasives all across the United Kingdom. By 1985 the future success seemed ensured. But following the retirement of my old friend the General Manager, the succeeding General Managers seemed to have lost direction. The Sales Manager and his team continued to loose business and there began a gradual decline. Either the parent company was not aware of the ensuing changes in the marketplace, or failed to find competent management replacements. Esme had carried on working at various places. She was retired at sixty years of age in 1988. In her last employment she had held a responsible position at a well-known ‘High Street’ chain store in the City Centre where she had worked for over seven years. . By now Milton Keynes was gradually expanding into most of its eight square miles. The maturing landscaped grids were like green corridors leading us through the city. The fantastic concept of trees creating a haven for each estate, screening excessive noise and helping to provide cleaner air than most of the older type towns. The free flow roundabouts and almost no traffic lights tell their own story. Recognised also is the significant contribution to the flora and fauna in the created environment. In January 1991 at age 67, I ended my thirty-three years with the same firm. I had continued to work full time for one year after my 65th, and then part time for another year having never been unemployed in the thirty-five years since May l957. For me these were sometimes trying but also very memorable years. I had enjoyed the trust and confidence of my employers. Being in continuous employment had helped me provide a stable home and sanctuary for us all. I then did some temporary work at the Stationery Depot of a well known high bank for about three and half years. Like many of the specimen trees in Kew Gardens, almost like exotic plants, we’ve sewn ourselves in the fabric of this society. In February 1991 we lost my sister Olivia. This beautiful and charming young lady was struck down by meningitis a year ago. She had then suffered a severe allergic reaction to the penicillin treatment. The resulting brain damage had robbed this promising young teacher of her career, future prospects and now her life. These were indeed cruel blows to my mother and our family. In 1992 on a holiday-visit to Canada, Esme and I again made connection with my sisters and their families. Our three weeks there added to our treasury of memories. Reflecting on our combined exodus from Guyana had seen four brothers migrate to the UK and three sisters to Canada. Brother Omar and his wife are still in Denmark, two sisters, Ouma and Leila are still in Guyana. Gerald along with my youngest sister June and her daughter Dawn all now reside in the Caribbean. Sometime in 1993, a chance meeting then set me on another journey. Chatting about being retired I mentioned to a friend that I’d like to take up some form of voluntary work. Why not in adult education? “Sounds good” Weeks later I had enrolled for the C & G Initial Certificate in Teaching (Basic Skills) and successfully completed eight specified assignments. So began my role as a Volunteer assistant tutor in ESOL (English for Speakers of other Languages.) This was mainly aimed earlier at migrants who had no English and the newer migrants and EU citizens. It gave me the opportunity to bring to bear my skills as a communicator. I have always been able to “cross bridges” quickly when meeting people. So the next twelve years have passed by, never dull, practising Taichi, which I had taken up in 1992, making home wines, general DIY around the home, family photography, and holidays. By 2001 in addition being an assistant tutor I had taken up Interviewing and Assessment of prospective students. Again those communicating skills bore fruit. In July 2005, I decided to close this chapter. It has been a wonderful experience and I keep the memories of the myriad of happy smiling faces of peoples form all corners of the world whom I met. I have the hope that in some small way I helped them to the wider world of literacy. I have not dwelt on the cost to all of us of those years when torn apart, when we struggled to survive. Sure there were many privations which I myself endured. Yet even in the worst of those situations I knew, I could draw on own inner confidence, and that I could survive. For my wife and my children it was not always so. Theirs was the greater struggle, especially during the harsh and cruel times of living in strife torn Guyana. There they were with little or no protection, seemingly abandoned, except for a tenuous tie with my parents and me far away in England. Today some thirty-six years later our lives have been turned around. Success in many forms, have come to us, so too have the heartaches. Yet in so many different ways we have stuck to this journey of life and become better people for it. No road is forever smooth, no water forever still, no sky forever clear, nor forever calm the wind, but for tomorrow there’s always possibilities In the years following moving to Milton Keynes our family has grown. For my children and their families it’s for them to record their lives and experiences. It was following the death of my mother in 1999. I realised that here we belonged to an extra large family, now scattered across three continents, and how little we knew of ourselves. Comprehension, that illusive butterfly, sometimes flies in unnoticed. And so it did. Someone ought to gather up all the information they could and write it down; a decision was taken. These pages are but a précis, a small testament to the strivings, the failures, the successes, the love, sometimes the despair of us all, but always the journey of our discovery. It is but apposite of the human state to encounter the ever-changing circumstance of existence and try to overcome. Like a flotilla of ships we are on this sea of life. We saw the departure of the 20th century, and the birth of this new millennium. Our journey has taken us from those dark and distant times, when our ancestors in desperation left their homes in India. We have journeyed in the footsteps of their descendants, my parents. In the next journey across another ocean covering distance and time comes my family and I. Some separately, some together, we travelled until we were all in England. And as my children and their families grew, our thirteen grandchildren became part of the flotilla. And now for our seven great grandchildren, their journey too has begun Author Balsook 02. 2007