MAX RUSSEL

So, I thought the first thing as you [Sejal Sachdev] suggested, we will introduce ourselves for a minute and tell a bit about ourselves, and why we're here as well, because we all have different backgrounds for why we're here.

My name is Max and I'm half British half German, I was born in London and I'm 26 years old. I've always had a passion for history since a young age, I think growing up in London in a multicultural community, where you can eat all the foods of the world at your doorstep, I've always been fascinated by people's stories and different identities and how people got here. So I’ve pursued an academic career in history, I did a bachelor’s degree at Newcastle University in history, with a focus on modern history, and I wrote a dissertation about the rise of far-right extremism in Germany after the collapse of the Berlin Wall and how former “socialist citizens” turned on their neighbours who were Vietnamese immigrants that been bought over [during the socialist regime] and [that these “socialist citizens”] started to become neo-Nazis and how that happens to someone. That’s what has always fascinated me, is this fear and hate of the “other” and what defines the “other” and why that happens. I then did a Master’s degree at Bologna University which was called Global Cultures, it was a mix of history, anthropology, and sociology, and it was there that I did a module on Indian Ocean history which looked at the history of trade between the Indian subcontinent and the Swahili coast exploring those connections, the arrival of the British, indentured labour, and the building of the railroads in East Africa and how those histories tied in together. That's when I became aware of this history that hasn't been taught in Britain even though the British were very much involved. So, then I decided to write a thesis on the history of the Ugandan Asian diaspora because I read about the expulsion, and I also had a friend who is the daughter of an East African Asian and I didn't even know that. There are all these interesting ideas of identity involved in it and so now I'm working as a social researcher on this project, and I want to make sure these stories get heard, so that's my introduction.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

My name is Sejal Sachdev and I was born in Tororo in 1965. I was 7 years old when the expulsion happened. My family came here and were in a refugee camp in Sussex for one month and then moved to Carpenders Park. My father bought a post office with an off-licence although we had never drunk alcohol in our life. Then last year, I felt that I would like to remember and document all these stories and put a message outon Facebook. Sejal Majithia-Jaswal and Najma responded to my request and that brings us here.

SMITA GANATRA

So, I’m Smita Ganatra born in Bugiri and then lived in Jinja. I was 13 when we left Uganda and came here [to the UK]. My family was kind of split up at that point as my father had to go to India because he was made stateless, so he was separated from us and went to India, and we came to the UK. We initially came and were greeted with such dignity and respect and kindness and kind of went from Stansted to Honiton and it was obviously quite an emotional time. So I was 13, me and my elder sister, younger sister, and my mum, we were in in Honiton so when we first arrived there we were there for a few days and then gradually started to link up with my brother who was studying here and a cousin who lived in Bolton and he said “look just get them to put you on the train and get to Bolton and we will sort you out” and the rest is history and I’m sure we will speak more about it. But that journey from the announcement of Idi Amin, in fact that announcement actually happened the day before my sisters were getting married, so we had a double wedding two of my sisters got married.

GUJARATI - My two sisters got married on the same day. It happened when we were decorating the hall and preparing for the double wedding.

There was an announcement on the radio that all the Indians will have to leave within 90 days and we all just laughed saying this guy has just lost the plot and we carried on and the wedding happened in a kind of big shabang because it was a massive wedding, two girls were getting married, and the rest became history.

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL (GUJARATI)

My name is Sejal, yes, another Sejal.  I was born in Kayunga, Uganda in December 1968. In December 1969, we moved to India as my father’s trading license was withdrawn as my father did not have a Ugandan passport, he was holding a British passport.  My family, parents and 7 children moved to India for 3 years. First to Baroda then to Jamnagar and then to Porbandar. When we were in Porbandar in 1971 my father returned to Uganda, but he found that situation in Uganda had changed. Idi Amin was in power and so in September 1972 he came to the UK. In September 1973 we, all the family moved to the UK. I did not know much about the history and what had happened. We had talked when I was young that we were born in Uganda but not many details. In 2018 I went to Uganda to do a marathon run. On that trip I found out about the room where my mother had given birth to me, I was born in Kayunga in a missionary hospital, and also where my parents were born and came from. Also, where my brothers were born and where my father lived. When I got back, I spoke to my husband that I wanted to find out more and why nobody talks about what happened. This was an important part of our British history. Like Max I wanted to learn more and then I met my Sejal my best friend.

NAJMA DAWOODBHAI

My name is Najma Dawoodbhai, I was born in Kampala in 1957 so I was almost 15 when the expulsion happened but [I] thought because I was a Ugandan citizen, my dad was a Ugandan citizen that it doesn’t apply to us it only applies to British people. But then we got frightened that we were stateless because they took our passports away. When we became stateless our first stop was to the British High Commission because my mum was British but they said “no the head of the family is not British so she can come [to the UK] but not the rest of us”. We didn't want to split up so then we went to Indian High Commission because my mum was born in India and the Indians said exactly the same thing that “she can come but not you because again the head of the family is not Indian”. So, we then waited and then in the end Pakistan took us because we were Muslim and we went and settled in Pakistan for two years, before coming to the UK because the UK government changed the legislation, the equality rules. So, it doesn't have to be the man who's the head of the family, any partner can bring another partner in. So, we came in 1974 and it felt this was going to be home rather than when we were in Pakistan, because culturally there was more in common in the UK than in Pakistan, but the rest is history.

AMIR DAWOODBHAI

So, I’m Amir Dawoodbhai, I'm Najma’s nephew through my dad’s side, and even though I'm born in this country, and I've never actually visited Uganda myself I feel especially now, that I'm studying at Uni in a geography related course, I feel like the history of Asians in Uganda and Britain’s part in the fallout from that period is a history that really hasn't been told outside of families or perhaps communities. Because I've realised now that especially even though I had a privilege of hearing storage from Najma and also family friends in the community the rest of the country doesn't seem to really know about these stories and we talk about it as history, but it's still lived experience, it's only one generation from me then remember these kind of seismic events and the fallout of the British Empire wasn't just borders, trade or finance, it was people the displacement of millions of people, the impact of which we still facing today very much. So, this project and the stories that come from it I feel are a way for me to reconnect with a past that I really never knew and never really experienced but nonetheless are the reason for me being here today.

JAMILA SHAM

Hi, my name is Jamila I was born in Kampala April 1956. I was nearly 16 when we came to the UK. When we were told we had to leave Ugandan we were quite excited, well I was excited, because I’d always wanted to come to the UK and my father had been planning to send us to the UK for schooling as well prior to what Idi Amin had announced so I was quite excited. But then we came here, I didn’t know what my mum and dad were going through at that stage, and I didn’t realise what was in store for them and they had a very hard time but because we were still young not understanding coming to a new country. So, it was quite difficult for me as well because to go to school at that age and to go mixing with British children and there were hardly any Asians, so it was quite traumatic for me as well, but I slowly got used to it. I had a few difficult years and slowly adapted to British UK life.

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI and English)

My name is Rukiya Nurdin Sham, I was born in Kampala. This is my son [Muffazzal Sham] who was 4 years old when we came here. I am 89 years old. I have 6 children, 4 daughters and 2 sons.

JAMILA SHAM/MUFFAZAL SHAM (GUJARATI)

Mum talk about your story in Gujrati, what you did in Uganda, your childhood to adulthood, what happened during expulsion and when you came to UK in the camp.

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL (GUJARATI)

Do you aunty, remember when Amin announced the expulsion what you were doing and what happened to you in the camp?

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

Yes, I remember when we left Uganda all these children were young. We were in camp for 2 months and then we were given a council house in Nottingham

JAMILA SHAM (GUJARATI)

Talk about what happened to you in the camp and how you were taken ill and taken into hospital as you were convulsing.

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

Yes, I was in the camp when my health deteriorated, and I was taken into hospital. I was 7 months pregnant with my youngest daughter Tasnim. I was kept for a week in the Lincolnshire hospital as I was convulsing.  We were given house in Nottingham.

MUFFAZAL SHAM (GUJARATI)

Talk about what happened after announcement at the time of leaving, your thinking?

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

Oh yes, It was okay. We left within 2 months of the announcement. We went to Entebbe and then came here with the children.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

Which camp were you in?

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

We were in Foldingworth for two months – and then the house in Nottingham

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

How were you looked after in the camp food and accommodation?

RUKIYA SHAM/MUFFAZAL SHAM (GUJARATI)

It was excellent. It was amazing. We were well looked after. It was newly built which and not yet handed over to the Army. It was a very small camp.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

We were all allocated in an old camp!

Were there any Ugandan Asians in your area where you were housed?

MUFFAZAL SHAM (GUJARATI) No there were no Asians especially in West Bridgford where we were settled.

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL (GUJARATI)

Where you scared when you left Uganda after the Idi announcement? Did you get harassed by the army soldiers on your way to the Airport?

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

No, not really, we got to the airport safely.

JAMILA SHAM (GUJARATI)

We were scared especially my dad was worried and was hoping that nothing happened to us and fortunately we reached safely at the airport. But at the airport we were harassed as you know they were asking us to open the suitcases. I had some gold jewellery in my handbag in addition to what I was wearing. They took that away.

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL (GUJARATI)

Were you scared Jamila?

JAMILA SHAM (GUJARATI)

Yes, I was scared, as we did not know what would happen to us. All we wanted was get on the plane.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

How many children did you have, 6?

MUFFAZAL SHAM/RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

At the time 5 and was pregnant with the 6^th.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

How old were they?

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

Muffazzal was 4 the youngest, then his brother Aftab 9, then sister Shilu 13, then Jamila 16 and oldest sister Rukhsana 18 who is now in Canada

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

So these children were young when you got here. Or did the older ones start working?

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

 No they were studying in the school.

JAMILA SHAM (GUJARATI)

Shall I say what happened?

JAMILA SHAM

Two weeks after, we moved into Nottingham into a council house, they had provided us with basic stuff but there was no heating only a coal fire and by now it was December and she was 9 months pregnant then and she came home with my sister six days old, my mum was taken ill she had a blood clot so she was hospitalised so there was nobody to look after my sister so my uncle and aunt came from London and took my sister and took her and looked after for her in London for 3 months. My mum was hospitalised for 2 weeks she lost her sight she was so traumatised, and my father wouldn’t let us visit her and she was so traumatised about what had happened in Uganda that she was talking about the Africans coming after her, hallucinating that. Slowly she gained her sight back.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

So you were not with your daughter for the first 3 months?

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

No my brother and sister-in-law came from London took my daughter whilst I was recovering.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

Your brother must be a wonderful person

JAMILA SHAM

When we moved to Nottingham my dad found a job straight away in a department store because he was a watch repairman, and he found a job in a watch department as a salesperson. He worked there for six months but knowing that my mum wasn't getting better he thought maybe we can start a business, so he bought a small business, and it was a shop selling general items like sweets chocolate and selling cigarettes, but my dad didn't like selling cigarettes, so he removed that from the shop. He kept running the business for six years but because he wasn't selling the cigarettes the business wasn't doing so well and eventually, he had to give up. The reason my dad started the business was so my mum could be looked after by him while we were at school.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

Can you imagine the struggle that generation went through. Yet your mum says everything was fine. We cannot recall all the bad things as it is quite upsetting for us.

JAMILA SHAM

When she was hospitalised obviously my dad he used to go and visit her, he used to most of the time walk because of financial difficulties.

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL

When my dad was in Southall, and we were in India, my dad always says he walked from Southall to Acton to go to work because he couldn't afford the bus fare and then he would come back walking whatever the weather, and we just take everything for granted

MUFFAZZAL SHAM

It’s amazing I mean you don't realise that we were all in the same situation and people were having the same kind of difficulties at that time. Up until now really until we are having this discussion, I would have thought that it was only us that struggled so much

SEJAL SACHDEV

Through this project we've discovered, like when I talk to my dad he'll say some people struggled a lot more and I'm discovering through this project that some people really really really did find it very difficult

SMITA GANATRA

You talk about resilience and that sort of generation of people like they were just so strong, but I remember when we came to Bolton my brother who was 17, he was doing his A levels, he had to give up his work because all of a sudden, he was head of the family. 17 years old he got a job in a factory he was working 5 12-hour shifts in a factory and at the weekend he was working at a petrol station. My sister who was five years older than me got a job in a bottle factory and I remember I still have this vision at the end of the week all the money used to be pooled and everybody got their pocket money, and the rest was banked, and we worked solid like that for two years and within two years we had our first property. I was 13 at that time so from [then to] 15 years old, every holiday I worked.

MUFFAZZAL SHAM

Hi, my name is Muffazzal Sham, I'm 53 years old I was born in 1968 so I was just less than four years old when we arrived here. I've gleaned as much as I can over the years from mum and dad and my sisters and my brother about the events that happened around the time of the expulsion, what their life was before the expulsion, and I carry those memories. But I'm so happy today that you guys have this project and you are at least documenting the history and the trials and tribulations of people from that time but what I can say from my experience, I mean I was very little at the time so I didn't really fully appreciate what my family were really going through at the time, but although my mum doesn't say it today, because my parents have been really positive people throughout their whole lives they never speak negatively about anything and you must have just heard her just now she didn't have anything bad to say about the situation, but I can tell you it must have been harrowing for them because she was like 7 months pregnant at the time and they had five children at the time. They had to collect all the belongings that they had, all the important belongings that they thought that they would be able to bring, but at the same time they were in fear of being scolded for taking things out of the country that they shouldn't be taking even though it was rightfully their own possessions. So, they gave up lots of valuable things out of fear at that time which they never saw again, they left behind money in the bank, they left behind property, the businesses were looted so it was really a harrowing period. So, you don't really get that from when you speak to mum because like my dad very positive never even to this day they don't speak negatively about those things.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

My dad is also the same, He keeps on saying that what is the point of remembering those times. He thought that what is the point of upsetting ourselves. He keeps saying at least we are doing well now.

NAJMA DAWOODBHAI

I mean my dad never wanted to go back [to Uganda] he didn't have the heart to step back because of what he had lost and how he had lost it. I mean that's why my brother went back to reclaim the property he [Dad] didn’t want to, and the other part is that once we got here when we started settling I think we didn't mingle that much with the rest of [the Ugandan Asians] because we were all still traumatised and living in our own cocoon way of surviving and that's why we didn't even realise it, everybody was going through the same.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

That was not the case in our Lohana community. My father’s friends from Taroro were contacting him and were giving advice to each other of business ventures, as well as what area to settle down, where there are good school etc. A lot of support was there. And my dad still says that without that support we would not be where we are.

SMITA GANATRA

We had the same because we went to Bolton because my cousin was there and as a result of him being there probably another twenty families came to Bolton with various connections, so you had a readymade committee

JAMILA SHAM

Unfortunately, we didn’t have any of that, we didn’t have anyone come and say “move here” we were just offered a house.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

Were you given accommodation by the Uganda Refugee Board? Their policy was to locate the refugees in the green areas. My dad was also offered similar accommodation, but he refused to take that.

JAMILA SHAM

My dad went to look at the house and he liked it and then he met somebody who was already living in in Nottingham an old Indian general, and he said “just move here it's nice”

MUFFAZZAL SHAM

What else I wanted to say was they left at a time when my dad's business was starting to take off, we were very comfortable and then when we landed in this country we had nothing they struggled so much and I didn't appreciate how much they really did struggle until later on in life and started to imagine what life would have been like for them and I feel so bad for my mum and dad for what they went through, what they had to do to get 5-6 children through their early years and I think my sister is being very modest because she sacrificed a lot, she didn't get to go to university like the rest of us because she gave up her life in education to help my dad, even though my dad didn't ask her she gave up her opportunity to go to university so that she could support my dad and to get us all through schooling and keep food on the table.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

Our parents always said it does not matter provided you children are all okay.

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL

I wish my sister was here because there are 13 years between me and my sister and she doesn't really talk about it, we left before the expulsion, but she went through a similar thing to you (Jamila). We went to India and then my father came to England, so she had to help my mum look after us and then when we came to England, she didn't have an opportunity to go to school college or university. She started working in a factory in Leicester and she said she remembers earning £8 a week and £6 or £7 would go to my dad and £1 she would keep and she's one of the most amazing people I know but she feels that because she didn't go to college she doesn't feel confident but she sacrificed so much for us.

JAMILA SHAM

But I’ve done alright for myself I’ve got my own place now if they [my family] wouldn’t have helped me as well I wouldn’t be here today.

SMITA GANATRA

My brother was the same he was 17 gave up [education] and worked, fortunately for him when my dad was able to join us and get a job he then went on to university and so he was able to finish his education which was great but he lost a couple years in his young life but how he worked in those days was just like the whole of the community around us were saying “Oh my God this kid, silly kid working 60 hours a week”

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL

Exactly its interesting isn't it because I grew up at a time were being young, it was our right to be young, it was our right to be a teenager.

NAJMA DAWOODBHAI

When I came here I was already 16 so I couldn't go to the school, which would have been free, but because my dad wanted me to carry on and do my O levels I went to Watford college and they said “you have to pay the fee because you haven't been a resident here for whatever” so I'm ringing him up to say “it’s going to cost £100” and he said “it doesn't matter” but I felt so guilty about it I really did because I knew they were living on a very tight budget.

MUFFAZZAL SHAM

What mum experienced in her early years as well because she lost her mother at the age of five or six and she had three younger brothers at the time and then her father, my grandfather remarried with my dad’s sister, and when she came over she bought my dad along with her to India and then my grandfather and my dad sister my faiji then again they had five more children and my mum was the eldest of the family at the time looking after the kids so she also sacrificed her education and any aspirations that she had she sacrificed that to bring those children up so she's been a mother yeah basically all her life.

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

So, my mother came from India at the age of 19 got married and passed away at the age of 24 in childbirth. To lose a mother at 5 and then look after a brother who was only days old was very difficult. Then my father went to India to get married again, the stepmother then had 5 more children. But we all adapted and grew up.

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL (GUJARATI)

My mother also says the same that we just cope and look after children who soon grows up.

MAX RUSSEL

I was thinking on what you guys have been saying that it’s really interesting that age gap and arriving here and having responsibility or really being a child. So, I was wondering if everyone wanted to talk first about how they felt so if their life was drastically altered by this new responsibility or if you were more still in that innocence of youth and how that transition was for you and then also how you saw it change in your family

SEJAL SACHDEV

So, I was young I was seven and a bit like you (Jamila) I was really excited to come because my uncles lived in England, and I used to get these really nice clothes. I was like this is really exciting going on an aeroplane I didn’t see any of the distress that was happening in my family because I was young, and I had a two-year-old brother, an eight-year-old brother, and eleven-year-old brother and we just did it like you know.

(GUJARATI)

When we came here my parents took me out on a bus and purchased a red fur coat for me. I was delighted with this experience to have a new coat and a ride on the bus. We were given a tour of London and then taken to the camp. It was exciting. We were taken to a dormitory and were told that there were second hand clothes available for us. So, I rushed over to collect them for my brothers, but my mother said that “we do not want second hand clothes” She took it all back as she did not want any charity. They used to take us in the morning for breakfast and gave us cornflakes. But we did not eat that, we were surprised that they put sugar in the cornflakes. We informed them that we were vegetarian, so they tried to prepare potato curry for us. I recall being taken to an English family’s house across the road for a meal. As I was vegetarian, they provided boiled potatoes and peas. I started to eat with the spoon and the host was surprised at why I was eating with the spoon. From the camp we went to Dollis Hill then to Harrow and then to Carpenders Park near Watford where my parents still are today.

I must stress that by coming to UK my life has been totally changed, whereas, if I was in Uganda, I would have been in an arranged marriage. I am currently married to an English man and am independent with my own career. I am a chartered accountant by profession. I can speak my mind and be myself. In Uganda, Indian girls / women were not allowed to be outspoken and have a domestic lifestyle. So, by coming to UK, women’s lives have been liberated and massively improved. I think I am lucky to be here with my family and lead a life the way I would like to. Nobody my father, brothers or husband dictate what I should or should not be doing e.g. cover your head etc. So, from my perspective, I say thank you to Idi Amin!

SMITA GANATRA

Like I said we had a big wedding happening there but then soon after that things were starting to get a bit unsettled and probably about a month after the wedding, we had soldiers who knocked on the door came in and arrested my dad and took him away. All the girls were shocked and locked into one room and were told “you can't be seen”. From the window we had a peak and we saw my dad, literally they lifted him and threw him on the back of the military lorry. I didn't have a clue what was happening, no reason, nothing, and it was at night so probably at about 8:00 o'clock at night and we were just terrified because we couldn't go out to report anything. But the next day luckily, he arrived back again with soldiers, his clothes were completely torn, tattered, he was beaten quite badly. He came and he took the key, my father used to run a flour mill, he took the key to the business, again we didn't know what was going on we just had to wait and then he came back in later and we realised when they took him they took him to the police station, he was tortured, they laid him on an ice plank and they were throwing cold water on him all night and butting him with rifles. Then the next morning they took him to an army court where Idi Amin was actually presiding and he was kind of thrown in front of him and he said “what are you doing here?” because my dad used to supply flour to the army so Idi Amin knew him from when he was a junior soldier so my dad said “look I haven't got a clue why I'm here I don't know why I've been brought here” and he [Amin] said that “it’s been reported that you've taken my photograph smashed it and stepped on it” all the businesses were required to have a photograph of Idi Amin. My dad always had Idi Amin or whoever was the president's photograph, so lucky Idi Amin said alright “go with these soldiers” if the photograph isn’t there, they were instructed to just shoot him and if the photograph was there they would release him and luckily the photograph was there he was sent back home. So really within probably weeks of that happening we just packed up and left, so as a 13-year-old you understand a bit more. We had a dog that was a family pet that we just had to leave my dad just said “don't worry about it, he's such a clever dog the army would like to keep him and they’re going to pick him up” so we obviously bought the story as you would as a kid but that journey from Jinja to Kampala was 50 kilometres, there were ten [military] checkpoints within that and my dad was travelling with my brother-in-law in the front and all the women and children at the back and it was like a truck covered up. At every stop a book was given to whichever soldiers were there and it was just laden with money but then sometimes they would just open [the truck] and look at the back and we were told “don't look at them just don't look them in the eyes just keep looking down” because you heard stories that women and girls were taken and raped and just left on the roadside. So that journey, we were safely in Kampala, but that journey I still remember it very well and it traumatised me no doubt. Then in Kampala we were put up in some community hall and there was a big hall, about twice the size of this room, and you just had mattress all the way along and you were given four mattresses for you and your family, and you just slept there until you were ready to go get on the plane. So, there was a community service that was set up, I don't know who set it up, but it was there. Then we realised that my dad is not going to be able to come with us and each family was allowed £50 so my dad gave us the money and he said “look I am going to be fine I'm going to India, family's there” so he put us on the plane and then a couple weeks later he went to India, but when we came here we landed in Stansted, they kind of rushed us through the immigration stuff and put us on a coach and we went to Honiton in Devon. It wasn't a brand new campsite it was an old campsite but we were given a room and we were allocated a family who would be our link family and they were just a lovely couple, Joy and Michael and their two young children, so as soon as we got into the room they came, and my sister was a baby, so they brought baby milk and nappies and stuff and were kind of our link family but the next day I remember we went and we had to do all the forms to register ourselves for the medical care and all the social services and stuff and then they gave us £11 but we just looked at them saying “why are you giving us money?” we just didn’t understand,  we’d never taken money like that, so we thought god these people are looking after us and giving us money as well. People were just so kind and so generous with whatever they did, we were treated with such dignity and respect. Then we decided to go to Bolton, and as a 13-year-old, life in the UK was really exciting.  It was a new experience, a new school, a new way of living, a new way of dressing all of the suddenly the world was opening for a 13 year old life and like you say [Sejal Sachdev] I think as a woman in this country I think I've had lots of privileges and I'm able to do and say and live the life I want to live and in 2018 I went back to Uganda with the charities that I’m now a Trustee for and when I went there that's when I realised that it's the people of Uganda who have really suffered they are the ones who have been left behind. I went back to our house and the paint hasn't changed in 50 years, it's still the same paint that was applied when we were there. Everything just hasn't been upgraded, even the roads you walk down Jinja High Street, it's just it's such a shame because the people of Uganda have suffered and Uganda, it still feels like home when you go there, but I guess I'm British Asian at heart but a little bit of me is still in Uganda and is why I keep going back.

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL

I feel really spoilt after listening to your stories, so I arrived in the UK aged 4 in 1973 and for me my earliest memories are of school and we grew up in a very tight knit family extended family growing up in Leicester and Leicester had one of the highest concentrations of Ugandan Asian so for me growing up I was almost like protected from everything that happened because I was the baby of the family, we lived in a council house there, ten of us in the council house. My mum’s mum lived with us and I never really understood all of what happened and it's only as I've got older and I reflect back I think to myself oh my God, my parents, my mum’s mum, my sister, they are all amazing people I just had no idea about our story our history and that makes me sad because I really wish that I had taken more time because I was always interested in history but I was interested in American history, British history, European history, World War Two history, without realising that I have this amazing history that I never took time to talk to the people who lived it and like Sejal [Sachdev] I've been very lucky, my father even though I'm the youngest after five brothers and there were rules and certain things I couldn’t do that my brothers could do and I always argued against it for equality but my father, the one thing he never stopped me doing was being educated, he expected that from me, he's always drummed into us “education, education, education” and his attitude was “dictators can take away money but they can't take away an education” because if you're educated you can get far in life and I just feel so privileged that my father let me [do that]. I did American studies at University, I went to America at a time were Indian girls were not even encouraged go to university and get married at a young age. He allowed me to choose my partner and so I feel like I've been very privileged, but I've been privileged because they sacrificed so much and when I think about their struggles I can't stop crying because I know how much they struggled. My sister told me a story recently where she said that when my father was in Southall working, and we were in India, my father used to send money home each month from the UK to India and there were a couple of months when he couldn't send any money because he had injured his arm so he couldn't work in the factory and back then there wasn't sick pay or anything like that so he basically earned no money which meant he couldn't send any money to us and my mum was beside herself because there were seven children and no money in India were there was no social security. Through the kindness of extended family who helped us [we were alright] but she [my sister] said something that really pained me she said that while my dad was a real joker right until the day he died, my father was always laughing about everything, she said whilst dad joked to cover up the hardships he went through she said “I don't think I ever saw mum truly happy” and that makes me really cry because I can't even imagine what she went through as a mother on her own in a foreign country, because India was foreign to her, she wasn't born there, she didn't know anyone there and she had seven children to look after and my father was in the UK and that just makes me really sad. I never really understood just how much hardship they actually went through because I just grew up at a time where, yes, we had racism, but I never faced racism myself, we grew up at a time when I was always quite protected by everything, and I always fought for everything I wanted.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

But just like Rukiya aunty, here, she would not have told you. They would always keep saying all is well. They would say have faith in God (Bapu) he will look after us.

SMITA GANATRA

My mum was like that too, I think it was that generation, there was incredible faith in god and they felt that there will be a resolve and they will be protected.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

Yes they would always say have faith in God (Bapu) he will look after us.

NAJMA DAWOODBHAI

I think your question was “How do I feel being here compared to if I was in Uganda?” As a child when I was there as Sejal [Majtihia-Jaswal] said my dad was quite determined that I personally would be educated so I could be independent and he was really a proud person and he was proud of me as well because I worked with him in the shop and he created my Najma watches and he wanted to make sure that I was independent and that part was going to continue once we got here [the UK] but I could relate to you [group] because they suffered because it was traumatic what they went through especially my mum she came from a privileged background in India when she got married and came to Uganda, and then in Uganda my dad was just coming up, he was totally self-made he didn't have the luxury which she [mother] had left behind with her parents. She took time to settle down but then once my dad, like Muffazzal said, reached his peak when we were thrown out, so she just about settled felt like life was perfect for her, three children, the business was doing well and then leaving was traumatic and that trauma because straight away at the age 42 she got cataracts in both eyes so she was blinded for about a year and me and my sister we were just teenagers at the time so we had to run the home and all that and my brother was the youngest because there’s five years different and then he she got cancer by 1981 and she died in 1981 and we were still very young and she died before my dad did, although my dad got cancer earlier, and I put it down to the trauma of leaving and it’s a fact but as far as we are concerned as children we didn’t suffer like how Sejal [Majtihia-Jaswal] said like what that generation went through and the trauma and the suffering and we got our own careers we became independent but because they made sure that we did that. I personally feel content with what I have [in life] I've got my own independence I can do what I feel like doing I travel, there's no restriction but my dad never had that restriction [for me] even as a childhood so as far as I'm concerned I think my life would have been equally good in Uganda if we were not thrown out because we were flourishing and we were doing well and it would have been different but I can't say that it's better here and not good there so it would have been different. so I personally feel liberated here to be here and I feel at home I mean my brother has come across and when we were on the council estate when we came to this country we did suffer racism and I remember one of the neighbours when we arrived she said “do you know that the lady opposite set up a petition that she didn’t want you guys living out here” but that was the 70s at the time, they didn't want a brown face living opposite or next to them, so it was there [racism] but as far as my career and things go, you see it [racism] in the professional world, but it's not so blatant so I would say that I'm accepted and I accept everything which Britain gives me in a sense and I feel part of being a British Asian and being settled.

AMIR DAWOODBHAI

So, we [Najma Dawoodbhai] were having this conversation a few days ago about generational sacrifices and how in each generation it sort of trickles down. Najma being the eldest she remembers a lot more of the life in Uganda then my dad or my aunt and looking through the photos you can see that Najma will recall everything and if I bring up a photo she will pinpoint to the dot “okay this was a building, these were our next door neighbours, these were the people who were always late or forgot the change at the till” but dad doesn't really remember it in that kind of way. He can just remember getting on the plane or arriving in this country hating the cold weather, so it's a different kind of experience and that’s only a few years difference and with the kind of the attitudes of the time when they first moved into this country and for me the privilege that I see is that now, in this day and age, I can just walk down the street as a half Indian half Indonesian and not really get bothered by anyone and that's the kind of silent progress that's been made. What we see is Britain has changed in that sort of way, I'm sure there are still elements of hostility. It came up what it means to be British and I’m sure it has changed but just kind of the way that things have become accepted has changed, its unrecognisable and it’s even more shocking to hear these kinds of stories because I don’t know if I would have coped in that situation and it's really harrowing.

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL

Can I just add, I feel British but I don't feel Indian. If that makes sense.

MAX RUSSEL

Yeah, I think that is such an interesting aspect to this as well and also has a lot to do with age and individual experience as well of hardship or trauma. It's a really interesting question that we ask in oral history is “what is home for you?” is it a country, is it a place, is it people? because it varies from person to person and [Sejal Majithia-Jaswal] was saying that it took 18 years for their dad to call Britain home, other people might have felt instantly that they connected with this place [UK] and I think it has a lot to do with the personal experience and what you're aware of, what you're not aware of, and I think so far what we've heard is a mix between optimism and the joy of getting to live in a new country with liberation and experiencing [new] things but then also retrospectively realising the hardship that people went through for you to have that and it's one of those things you will never know what your life would have been like in Uganda.

JAMILA SHAM

As Najma said how her dad was flourishing my dad was also doing very well and that's the reason he was planning to send me and my sister to the UK to get educated, that’s what he wanted for all his children, to be educated well, and we were obviously very excited to come here and once we were here when we were in the camp I was sent to school, they sent me to school in Lincoln, and I was very nervous because there were no Asians at all when I first went. It was quite traumatic as well because [my] English wasn't so good.

Mixing with English kids was difficult because they used to talk quite fast, and sometimes I couldn’t understand what they were saying, and I was quite conscious that what I was saying wasn’t correct or that they were laughing [at me] behind my back. Then when we moved to Nottingham I went to school for a few months and I had to sit for GCSEs and because I couldn't settle in I didn't do quite well so I left school and I went to college to do further education and it was my choice to go and work afterwards because I had younger siblings and they were all  going to school and my dad wanted us all to do well and get educated and he really pushed everyone to do that and they've all done well and I’ve done well for myself. I'm not regretting it at all because I've had the support of my mum and dad throughout and they were quite liberal, they weren’t so traditional, they let me do what I wanted to do, so at the age of 17 me and my friend went off in summer to Butlin’s camp to work. I don't regret it; Britain is my home and my parents let us do what we wanted.

MUFFAZAL SHAM (GUJARATI)

Please [Rukiya Sham] speak about how your life was in Uganda and compare to there what is it like here in 1972.

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

It was alright there and after coming here it was not so bad. Initially we were wondering how we will live here and to settle, but we did.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

How did you find Uganda compare to here. What was it like?

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

Uganda was good. I lived there for 40 years. I have now been here for almost 50 years.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

What did you like about Uganda, food, lifestyle? Tell the truth – fresh fruits vegetables.

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

It was good, but it is good here as well. Yes, that is true everything there was very fresh

SEJAL MATHJIA-JASWAL (GUJARATI)

How was your day there? Talk about what you did from the time you got up?

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

Everything was good. My husband was working in my father’s watches shop and then he set up his own shop just before the expulsion.

JAMILA SHAM (GUJARATI)

And my Mum used to cook in the morning and then in the afternoon she would take Muffazzal to the shop to help my Dad.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

Were your relatives living near you in Uganda?

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

Yes, they did but not too close. We used to live on Kampala Road and my parents used to live in Old Kampala. So if we wanted to have a meal we could go to them.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

So when you got here it was very different as you were in Nottingham whilst the rest of the relatives were in London?  So, there was not much of the support for you when you arrived in UK. In our community, when a mother gives birth normally, they go and stay with her parents for a while. How was your English when you came here? So do you think you are better off coming to UK compare to being in Uganda? What about your children’s life here, they have educated and done well?

My mother also says that in Uganda the medical treatment would not have been good enough to keep me alive. Here we have NHS and they will always look after me.

My father also said that he would not have managed to send all of us to UK to study. He had a limited budget as Bank manager and would have focused on my brothers.

The rain in Uganda was amazing and my father used to say that the soil was so fertile – you just need to put a stick and it will grow into a fine plant.

Have you been back to Uganda? When and did you like it? Did you feel that you would like to go back and live there?

RUKIYA SHAM (GUJARATI)

Yes but my mum and sister came to see me. For the naming the baby ceremony on the 6^th day. And on that night, I became ill. I got a blood clot in my head and was taken to the hospital. In Uganda we had servants to help us out, so it was easier, here we had to do everything ourselves. On top of that it was cold, and we had to be dressed appropriately. I could speak English as I studied SS2 in Kampala in primary school. I would have continued if there was an opportunity to do so. There was an issue of dress code. As when you reach certain age, we could not wear short dress. But I still went to school wearing the sari.

It was good there but equally good here as well. The children and grandchildren have all got well educated. Also there are subtle differences like the weather especially the rain so different to tropical rain we used to get compare to slow drizzle for days onwards.  We would have a down pour and when it stops it would be bright sunshine.

I have been when we went on the wedding of my elder son in Mombasa in 1997. It has changed, although I liked being back, we are now settled here so would not want to go back.

SMITA GANATRA (GUJARATI)

Even now in Uganda it is still the same. Where our school is, we are trying to teach the children to plant crops and when the plants are ready to harvest, they use the crop to feed the children. We are training them about agriculture.

SEJAL SACHDEV (GUJARATI)

In 2018, President Museveni was asking ex-Ugandan Asians to go back. Did you not want to go back or claim your property?

MUFFAZZAL SHAM

So for me it's a little bit indifferent as to what life would have been like over there and what it is like over here because I was too young. I have small memories of [Uganda], my dad would go to the shop early and then sort of at lunchtime my mum would take me in the pushchair, and we would walk to the shop on the way and she would buy me some roasted peanuts and I have those memories. I didn't like swimming for some reason, my dad put me in a nice school and one of the days would be swimming classes and on that particular day I would hide my swimming costume and always make a palaver in the morning.

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL

So you actually have memories of Uganda because we were both born in ’68, like I have no memories of India [at that age].

MUFFAZZAL SHAM

It’s just those little things I remember. I always remember that when he [dad] put me in the Aga Khan school and he used to take me and my cousins [to school] and I would never be ready because I knew it was swimming day. So to this day I don't like water, I'm not very comfortable in water, so that’s stuck with me. But the little mum and dad came with to this country and how they managed to get us set in life and everything, I don't know how they managed it, I’ve never fully appreciated what it would have been like for them to sort us all out and make us get what we needed to get on in life. We've all made our mark in life, we’ve all got on and done stuff and we’re all independent and have been for a long time and that's because in some magical way mum and dad have given us love and support. Financially they were for the poorer, but from a lived experience point of view, a cultural point of view, and from a opportunity point of view, they’ve made everything possible for us which I find amazing how they managed to do it with such little [money] and with so many mouths to feed. As Sejal [Majithia-Jaswal] was saying although I am of Indian origin I don't really consider myself Indian either I consider myself British, proud to be a Ugandan Asian. Where we grew up at the time, when we came [from Uganda] the National Front was at its peak and I remember coming home from school one day walking past a row of garages on my way home and I heard a ricochet on the garage, and I later discovered that somebody had shot an air gun pistol at me and had missed me and hit the garage door. On another occasion my auntie had come to visit us at home, and she was coming out of the driveway through the gates, and she had an air gun pellet shot at her and it hit her right in corner of her eye. Yeah 1972 was the peak of the National Front especially in Nottingham and we lived on a street, so Nottingham Forest who I’m a proud supporter of didn't have a very nice set of fans, they were known as the “Forest mad squad” and a lot of them did live in the area were we grew [up] which was a predominantly white area and we put up with a lot and again for my mum and dad with young children we had our door almost broken into in the middle of the night, we had windows smashed, it was difficult those early years were very difficult financially and it was difficult settling down and on top that having all the racism and everything but those experiences actually made me because I always identify myself as British and I grew up always believing that I had equal rights and I’ve carried that right the way through and I never took any kind of adverse behaviour towards me. I wasn't submissive to it, I wasn’t subservient to it, because I knew I was equal and I knew that I had that equal right and I always challenged it every step of the way. I never to this day let anybody get away with anything that is not considered politically correct, appropriate, lacking any morals, I never let them get away with it, so I've learned that. I think I'm probably the strongest proponent of that in my family, that will never let anybody getaway with any kind of adverse behaviour, because I am British, I have equal rights okay I am a different colour but you're not going to hold that against me. So, I’ve grown up with that and I've stood firm on that every step of the way and my mum and dad when they see me doing it they say don’t do it.

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL

Whenever I hear members of my extended family talk negative about other communities or refugee communities, or people coming to this country and they say “oh look at that Rayners Lane is all Somalian now” I get so cross I will say “Do you do not remember this was us?”

SEJAL SACHDEV

What you're [Muffazzal] saying I get into trouble all the time for saying it but if you don't speak up your complicit. If you stay quiet, you’re actually agreeing with the person and because I'm really old I don’t really care so I do speak up all the time but because I work a lot with refugees as well.

SEJAL SACHDEV  (GUJARATI&ENGLISH)

In our community if we say that we are working with refugees from Afghanistan and Syrians. They would say that “These refugees are not like us, they are different. We were very hard working.” But have you given these refugees a chance to work? There are so many refugees at Heathrow detention centre, especially those who have come on the boat, they have been here for 2 years – But they are not allowed to work, even though there are so many vacancies such as truck drivers, hospital workers.

MUFFAZZAL SHAM

But to your question about what life might have been like over there and how it’s been here I can't really complain about my life here it’s been very good we’ve been lucky to have mum and dad around for so long, just lost my dad two years ago. I wish we could have captured his story on something like this because he had a great mind, he had all the memories. I do hear snippets of how life was over there and I can imagine with my dad starting to do well towards the end of our stay there that life could have been good there as well, from a weather point of view, but you talk about the NHS and from a health perspective my mum might have experienced what she experienced here, I know it was trauma and everything that might have added to it, but she might have experienced that over there and what kind of healthcare would she received then we almost lost here in ’72 that episode she was almost gone.

SEJAL SACHDEV

But isn't the world transient anyway, aren’t we all migrants like you're [Max Russel] saying you've got dual heritage, my children have got dual heritage, now in this world we need to be global citizens we can't just say we're English or Irish or Indian and I do feel Indian but I feel like I'm a British Indian but I think I feel very Indian because I think I was a bit older than you [Sejal Majithia-Jaswal] and have been brought up in quite an Indian household but I'm really proud of it, I'm proud of everything that all of us here have achieved but we need to say everybody coming to this country we should lift them, we're in a good place we should help.

SEJAL MAJITHIA-JASWAL

Just going to that question of being Indian, because I was brought up in a very traditional Indian household and there are lots of things about India that I’m proud of but I think when I've gone back to India the thing that makes me sad, and that's why I probably feel less Indian, is people in India’s own attitude towards caste, class and those are things that really grate me especially the caste thing and to me it’s everything I've always been against like when I was growing up in Leicester because it was such a strong Ugandan Asian [community] the first thing people say to you is “what caste are you are you Lohana are you this?” I didn't want to be defined by those things I always wanted to be defined that I'm me and when I've gone to India and I see the way the middle class are towards people lower down and the way they talk to them the way they treat them it's just disgusting.

MUFFAZZAL SHAM

So I live in Canada now and I have done for the last seven years almost, so again I'm experiencing another transition in my life but I can say that the way the British government treated my family when we landed in this country and the support system that we've had all the way through and making sure that we are not marginalised in anyway and given every opportunity to do things as an equal I mean that's something to say about that about the UK and the British government and how policies that have been put in place to protect us help us in every step of life. From a racism point of view it does have his peaks and troughs and you do tend to find that every time there's a bit of a dip in recession and opportunities are a little bit scarce sometimes the indigenous people in the UK do find it difficult to see that “how come the immigrants are doing alright and we don't have any opportunities, why have they taken all our jobs?” and that usually happens at a time of a recession those kind of feelings surface so yeah I’ve had to face those challenges all the way through my life but I've never let anybody get away with it never once and what I achieve I achieve through hard work through the love of my parents through the support of my family and it's got nothing to do with me being an immigrant.

NAJMA DAWOODBHAI

I’ve just had a thought we are all migrants talking I would have liked to hear an English person who was here in ‘72 and up till now and he/she felt.

SEJAL SACHDEV

Oh I should have asked my friend she was a teacher in Somerset and when these children arrived from Uganda [in ‘72] she was told on the Friday these kids were coming on the Monday and these hundred kids arrived into her school and she said they were incredible. So, she's done a little piece on that thing.

NAJMA DAWOODBHAI

I think it’s really needed because I think what we have is one side of [this story] but what did the locals feel, and it will be good to listen to them. I mean in fact the charity I work with one of the Trustees she remembers the Ugandan Asians because she was a similar age to me, so she said that she remembers them coming into the school. But I think we need that element in our history.

SEJAL SACHDEV

We also need the African element, this lady I’m talking to, she was in Jinja [in ‘72] and she said when all of us left they went into the Madhvani’s house and saw all these gold taps and she goes “we didn’t know that Indians lived liked this” so all her relatives had all gone in and said “oh my god this is how they lived” so I only briefly spoke to her.

SMITA GANATRA

There was a journalist that spoke at the memorial service that was held and he was a Ugandan African whose family left Uganda and went to Kenya because things were so horrible for Africans there [Uganda].

SEJAL SACHDEV

That’s really interesting because my friend has a lady who works for her who is African Ugandan and she's 72 this year and she had to leave to go to Kenya because she was the wrong tribe. So he [Idi Amin] apparently killed almost a million African Ugandas and there was only a handful of [Ugandan Asians killed] I'm not saying “only” but somebody said let's not forget their [African Ugandans] story.

NAJMA DAWOODBHAI

Absolutely when I back in 2007 and this gentlemen who drove us everywhere, we employed him, he was in his late 20s or so, so he could not remember ‘72 at all and he said he that generation above him they have been massacred and I remember asking in Kampala “when we were here [‘72] I can't remember all these scavengers [birds] where have they come from” because I really could not remember them at all [back in ‘72]. The bird population in Uganda is amazing it is known for it, so I remember the birds but not this scavengers which were right in the centre and he said to me “it's because we went through about five years of bodies being laid in the street, so the scavengers have come and they haven’t left” And I was so sad to hear that.