A Vice President’s Dilemma

Uganda’s  Vice President Visits Canada

 

There has been some discussion about the trip that the Vice President of Uganda has made to Canada to try to lure former Ugandan Asians back to the country from where they were expelled.  They were the engine of commerce and investors in economic development of Uganda. It is said that the GDP of the country fell by 40% when the Asians finally vacated their key positions in the economy.

What was it about the Asian community that made them so special?  Can the Ugandan authorities not replace them with other very successful operators of trade and commerce such as the Lebanese, the Chinese or even the Nigerians who now buy their stock in Hong Kong and sell the items in Zambia?

There are five elements of interest in relation to the emergence and consolidation of the Asians’ grip of the East and Central African economies. The Asians became the more favoured and notable producers of wealth in the East and Central African countries because their main “rivals”, the multinational corporations (the MNCs) were detested by many African governments. Large MNCs like the British banks and producers of goods that became household names- soaps, washing powders, paracetamol (provided by companies such as Reckitt and Coleman) wanted to externalise their profits to please their British shareholders. They were also mostly the manufacturers who expected more added value than the lower value adding Asian traders but who made up for this through their numbers.

The Asians also wanted to root themselves in the countries of their adoption, and consequently their presence was probably more valued. They created the highly costly distribution chains, taking goods from the main cities to the ‘charo’. The Dalgetys and Motor Marts had no such interest; they were mega-traders who wanted to move large amounts of money out of Africa.

The Asians were also investing more, in the main, in baseline infrastructure – low cost local shops, schools, clinics, housing for the lower paid whereas the MNCs, driven by the quest for larger profits were investing in 5 Star hotels or similar ventures.

Some of the greatest examples of diversified investment also came  from the Asians, who were good at spotting niches – fishnets, plastics, furniture which met critical local needs.

Over a period of time, African entrepreneurs have taken over the low cost import substitution industries (toothpaste, matches, writing pens, notebooks) where as the Asians have started to move into high cost investment – medicines, telecoms, banks, computers.

So why does the Vice President of Uganda want the Asians to go back to Uganda?  Idi Amin had removed the low cost baseline commerce that the Asians provided.  There is another major factor at play here and I have just begun to see the impact of this on the UK economy- the provision of working capital by the commercial bank has dried up after the banking crash. Many small companies are starved of working capital.

In East Africa, the loans that ‘lubricated’ Asian commerce and trade were also guaranteed by the Asian mega-trader and not always by the commercial banks. The Asians had access to private sources of commercial lending or trade subsidies- many an Asian importer or manufacturer was willing to give credit to their own people; sometimes families and relations who had been set up to share the risks and rewards by the older patriarchs of Asian commerce.

I have seen the impact of this form of intra-Asian economic specialisation in the building construction industry, which was dominated by the Sikhs. The more successful owners of Sikh building firms were also informal money-lenders. They provided trade guarantees and offered working capital to the subsidiary companies in the supply chain, thereby tightening their grip over their dependency.  It suited the rich Sikh building contractor to fund the baseline services and suppliers – the Sikh plumbers, electricians, painters in return for guarantees relating to quality of services but also incrementally rising loyalty. In the same way the Gujarati traders at the top of the pyramid were prepared to fund the dukawalla who was willing to work in the charo. By providing trade credit, i.e. goods on 60 days credit, the top Gujarati trader was a) expanding his own trading influence, b) taking lower levels of risk by funding trusted borrowers and c) ensuring loyalty of the trader in the charo, who would not normally switch suppliers. The Ismaili community also had internally sponsored ‘pseudo’ banking practices. The Ismaili ethic of sustaining the whole community was partly funded by the internal but informal money sources.

The intricate financing and co-financing habits of the Mafia come to mind, except that the Asians were not at all ruthless. This is not to say that they did not make their fellow traders suffer; there was anecdotal evidence of traders and suppliers being pushed to the edge where the ‘patriarch’ of the business line was occasionally offended. There was a further factor at work here. Where business was funded through caste-based “clans”, there was also intermarriage. The sponsor of your working capital would not fund your business if your son was not prepared to marry his obese and ugly daughter. Let us leave it at that….

Returning to the Uganda Vice President’s visit to Uganda to woo the Asians, it seems that the Asian presence in Uganda had been secured by living in the country for over a century, by accepting a subservient role in commerce and business compared to the British multinationals that eventually bore the brunt of Ugandan President Milton Obote’s and Zambia’s Kenneth Kaunda’s “watershed speeches” when they nationalised British multinationals and in the case of the latter also drove them into the ground by failing to run them profitably. The only stable element in the commerce of these countries was the Asians; they were too small to be nationalised and too intricately connected to allow African governments to dismantle them…  Only Idi Amin had the brutal force to evict them lock-stock and barrel.

However, it is not just a case of replacing one group of departing Asians with another group of incoming Asian peoples. What will be missing is the cultural cement which held Asian trade and commerce together but more importantly the delicate interdependencies and the informal funding mechanisms which created access to low cost finance and also guarantees for access to local markets at low cost.

The General Election in Britain

Who is going to pull the British Asian vote?

Britain could be having a General Election at anytime within the next eight months. The election campaign machinery of all political parties are being oiled and greased, sometimes very quietly as if the competition may  not find out! It is a matter of time when Gordon Brown will announce the election but hwen he does, will the British Asians be ready?

This commentary is not so much about what the state of the parties is in a wider national political discussion. It is more about the positions that the British Asians may be adopting and how they are going to be making their choices. What are the reasons for supporting any of the three political parties assuming that the Asians are not going to vote for smaller parties?

This is not going to be easy because the drivers for the Asian vote have been changing and the factors which will determine their ultimate choice are well worth exploring. The rationale for voting according to the values of the old socio-economic groupings may not be totally relevant today. It is likely that structural foundations of the British Asian societies may have shifted somewhat and the power of the ‘old order’ which was driven by socio-economic factors may have been disintegrating. It is not often realised that many early voting decisions were perhaps even motivated by what the British Asian groups had been doing in their home countries and the agendas that they had imported had virtually very little to do with British politics. A political-historical analysis of British Asian voting patterns should find some interesting outcomes.

There may be other ‘pulls’ which may be described in relation to what might be called the ‘Hornby factor’, the miniature railway infrastructure which covers the floors in many homes even today with different engines pulling trains into various directions and sometimes, an occasional train also falls off the table. The railway operators in the Hornby political power play are fragmented, often differentiated by narrow divisions and mostly independent drivers who do what they consider to be the best. However, the main parties also have powerful bases and the British Asian political choices are determined by where they live and how a very active underclass of politicians may have established very firm roots. The term ‘underclass’ is at best risky and at worst may be misleading but the political power that many British Asian groups enjoy is sometimes determined by jobs and housing; who they work for and where they live. These influences may be tampered by the power of the unions in the workplace or by success of the British Asian classes in the professions and business. One of the interesting outcomes relates to British Asian success in business; in the early days of migration, many family votes were tied to the values of the Labour party and these families probably gave a whole generation of support to Labour. However, as these groups have prospered and their children have acquired more influence over their parents, they may not be safe Labour voters any longer. The success of the retail trading alone has also meant that many British Asians are moving out of the inner city and finding homes in the prosperous suburbs of towns and cities such a Slough, Coventry, Birmingham and the boroughs of London. The Hornby train effect is still relevant to some voters. They have moved into prosperous areas but their values are still open to influence, almost as if any Hornby train engine will have sufficient power to pull them into different political journeys. However, the more informed British Asian who is now concerned with tax, inheritance and property valuations may see the Conservatives as the party of business people. Many notable people have changed their allegiances to party politics. Of course, there are many other factors which will impact on voting patterns.

The aftermath of the banning of ‘Behzti’, the Punjabi play in Birmingham in December 2004 was a serious issue for politics as it was so close to the last General Election. Writing on BBC Online, Dominic Casiani said “If you had to write a theatrical pitch for what Birmingham has just witnessed over the play Behzti, you could do it in seven words: Play offends community, community protests, play cancelled. But that simple three act performance conceals a far more complex drama about how we all share the same space in a pluralistic society. Can we really say what we want? Should we say what we want?”[1] It was felt at the time that the impact of Sikh vote could have influenced the outcomes in at least seven parliamentary seats. However there is no evidence in the public domain to sustain or refute this assertion. The impact of the Iraq War and the continuation of the war in Afghanistan may affect the vote again but there is very little informed analysis of what the political parties may be doing to retain Muslim confidence if the two wars are still a cause for major concern.

It must be remembered that with a few exceptions, general elections in East Africa did not create much excitement amongst the Asians, the large majority of which were not entitled to vote as they were not African citizens. It is hoped that that strong and powerful ‘Hornby train engines’ will emerge at the right time to make sure that British Asians use their vote, whatever their political choices …..

 

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[1] BBC News at http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/4113287.stm

A Timely Warning?

Kabaka and the Beanstalk

I have been following developments relating to the role of various leaders in African political development for some time. Many a diplomat has raised concern that serious tribal vendettas have been providing comfortable opportunities for dictators and military junta to step in and to provide a period of stability. To them the challenge of political development equates to stemming the loss of blood from tribal warfare and other wasteful distractions. They have offered peace and security but cannot be expected to provide democratic political progress. It has been argued that for military rulers, politics and the rule of law are incompatible….

What we may be witnessing in the Buganda homeland is the rebirth of a tiny seedling of the old Baganda political dream … amidst the allegations that some ancient tracts of Baganda owned land are being allocated to other tribes. How can this be possible, the Baganda ask? How much of is this really true, we ask. According to subscribers of “the Baganda dream” the Kabaka, who has been allowed to return to Uganda can surely lead a campaign to recover these homelands. But if Museveni is seeing the plant not as a seedling but as the Kabaka’s beanstalk, there may be serious problems ahead. Remember that Jack, the colonialist who had planted the beanstalk left many years ago. So the bundukis are out and sadly a few Baganda people have been killed while further efforts may also be made to cut the Baganda beanstalk.

Do the Baganda seriously need a beanstalk? And who in their community would actually want one? Should the Baganda not consider having a Kabaka as a figurehead and then work hard to create the framework for the whole tribe to benefit from economic development and a more compromising social policy? There is a rich heritage there, often expressed very creatively in cultural events.

What are the Baganda so anxious about?  In many countries, including India, many minority groups seem to have persistent dreams of regaining what they consider to be their just political and economic heritage.  Prime Minister Nehru displaced the maharajas and President Obote annulled the kingdoms and monarchies, both to replace the older constitutional arrangements with new republican models. It was not easy for the traditional rulers and their followers. How might have both Uganda and India progressed, under different stages of their respective developments, if the traditional rulers had not been removed? There is a book here for someone but let us ask a few exploratory questions.

Whatwould have happened if the Sikhs had tried at the time of political independence and perhaps were to try now to revive Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s monarchy in the Punjab? Could they suffer the same fate as the Baganda, some of who gave their lives a few weeks ago, nearly forty years after their independence?   For the pragmatists, the days of the tribes and monarchs ended a long time ago… and the people who carry the sparks for new fires of a new self-realisation ‘ideal’ are likely to lose out. However there are the ambitious ‘separatists’ and the fervent ‘isolationalists’ who will continue to seek new ways of rekindling those old tribal dreams. If the present governments will be more circumspect and not try to silence them, someone else with stronger anti-monarchy sentiment will.

Shouldn’t someone urge restraint to the Kabaka before people begin to see him as the giant who must fall off Jack’s beanstalk and perish forever?

The Wahindi in Transition: Its the daughter-in-law, stupid!

A Footnote to the Bebe story

 

There are stars and villains in the way characters are developed in any story. Sindra’s original version, which I have hugely massacred and my own khichri ( liquidy rice ‘biryani’) of the Bebe story creates the daughter-in-law as the villain and the son as the lost and confused boy who is buffeted by two bad  and dominating women. That is always the preferred theme. What fun it is to make the daughter-in-law the bad fish in a small pond.

 

But actually, there are some very good daughter-in-laws who put in huge amounts of work in looking after two elderly couples ( That is, his parents and her own parents or surviving parents) very competently, demonstrating great sacrifice and personal cost. This value system is greatly admired by many communities and social services, where it works.  To complete this story on a happy note for daughter-in-laws, here is a true story.

 

A small family with both elderly parents with reasonably good health and a lot of money in the UK bank, as well as the young son and his wife and children head for the UK. Over the next 20 or so years, both of the elderly people experience major health and emotional problems. The daughter-in-law is always by their side, providing help and support and also nursing them through their illnesses. First the mother-in-law passes away and then the father-in-law gets acutely ill and even unable to use the bathroom. The daughter-in-law takes care of him day and night while his own son is busy at work, the sports field and then the clubs where a drink is always mandatory to celebrate a win or to commiserate after losing a cricket or hockey match.

 

After nearly five years of taking personal care of the elderly father, the prospect of securing an admission to a nursing home is considered but immediately rejected by the nearly absentee son. He is concerned about the ‘society’s’ or ‘biradari’s reaction (the brotherhood’s judgement) to such a decision which is likely to be perceived as a breach of the unspoken code of conduct where such an action is likely to be seen as rejection and even abandonment.  And so the old man carries on with his troubled life as an in-house dependent, with loss of self-respect while he is still nursed by the daughter-in-law. The daughter-in-law, who is usually the villain the piece , is the exemplary carer and the saviour! One morning the old man is found dead in his bed, having died in his sleep. When his will is examined, he has left the title to the house as well as a huge cash pile to the daughter-in-law only. The son has been excluded from the will and no money is left to him and his siblings, thereby triggering off a war of attrition.

Bebe comes to England

The Wahindi in Transition: The lives of East African elderly  as seen through the story of Bebe.

 

Tejinder Sindra, the Punjabi writer, wrote and produced ‘Bebe Vilayat Wich’ (not to be confused with ‘witch’) in the mid 1990s and left a permanent mark on Punjabi drama in the UK. I have used Sindra’s work for inspiration and many more interpretations have been added to reflect my own position-naughty, but the comments reflect real situations and how they are perceived and addressed in the real world, a society in the throes of change…

 

‘Bebe’ is the elderly Punjabi woman who is delighted when her son, who lives in London, sends her a ticket and a visa to visit him and his wife and to meet her grandchildren for the first time. She is received with great deal of hugging and ‘feet touching’ at the airport. After a few tears of happiness Bebe is driven home in the son’s 18 year old Mercedes. Bebe is already impressed and comments on the car, which is well maintained and clean. “Yes, it is the same type of car, Bebe ji that is used by prime ministers when they travel” ignoring the minor detail that no British PM would want to be seen, dead or alive, in a German car. Bebe is not too concerned about the age of the car either. It is her son’s progress that counts. “This is a very good country, Bebe. They are so organised here and there is no corruption. Look at the way everyone behaves on the road…the police is watching the traffic…And you know one thing, Bebe ji? The drivers here even obey the police” he told her excitedly on the way home.

 

She wipes away a tear when she thinks how her husband would have been so pleased to see the progress that his boy has made. She thought further about how ‘the work permit problem’ in Kenya had broken his heart. He was such an expert furniture maker but he had to leave Kenya. Now even more sadly, he had been so traumatised after his eldest son had migrated ‘to London’ (they actually lived in Southampton) that he had a massive heart attack and died. Bebe had been very careful not to remind him that it was he, after all, who had encouraged the boy to migrate and build a new life in Vilayat (England) and make a fortune before quickly returning to the Punjab. He had advised his son that they must return to the Punjab before their children turn into ‘Angrezi chor’ the English colonial ‘thieves’ who had robbed India. In fact during the subsequent sightseeing tour to Trafalgar Square, Bebe was alerted to the fact that the entire Square was built with money that the British had externalised from India. And Bebe thinks laterally.. How ‘nice’ the Trafalgar Square would have looked if it had been built in Jullundur, her late husband’s favourite town in the Punjab.

 

The first few days of Bebe’s arrival turn out to be very busy. So many relations wanted to meet her. How lucky was Bebe to have such a wonderful son. The strain was first felt by the daughter-in-law who became quite fed up with the constant flow of relatives and their relatives- Bebe is now owned by the whole community. A big change had been made when the son agreed that no meat, eggs and fish would be cooked at home as long as Bebe was living with them…out of respect for her religious beliefs and also how the smell of cooking meat always gave Bebe a terrible headache and a serious turn of mind.

 

After a fortnight, just as Bebe’s son starts to think about her return to India, his wife says “You must be mad. Just think of the amount of money you had spent on her ticket. It has been of no use to us”. “How could the money be of ‘use’ to us?”, the son wondered. She was quick to remind him of his friend Tiddu, whose old mother was looking after their children and even his wife could work. “How do you think they could afford to buy the dishwasher, ‘the laundry machine’ and gas cooker with twin ovens?” she asked. They had also taken their children to Florida and seen large whales in fish tanks! If the other Bebe could baby sit for them, then his own mother was not that special. It was such a simple but good proposal. The son then told his mother. “Bebe ji, we think we have not had enough time to spend with you here and I have had your visa extended… in fact it cost 4,500 rupees”. Bebe was staggered and told her son off for extending the visa after paying so much money. It had cost £53.

 

Bebe’s new life had started. She found the first few weeks very exciting and was it not such good fun that she could be with her two grandchildren for another six months? A further few weeks later, Bebe realised that she was tired and constantly catching colds. “It’s the weather, mama; the English cold season is so terrible”. She could offer Cod Liver Oil to her mother-in-law but just the smell of fish would kill her, she thought with a subdued smile. But she would not address her mother-in-law as Bebe, since the old cow had taken away so much peace and quiet ever she had arrived.  Besides, it was so expensive to take the children to McDona, just because the Bebe would not allow them to eat burgers in the house! How dare she interfere with the children’s lives?  She knew that her husband was having a great time at work. He was having his meat and fish regularly but what about her, she thought resentfully. But there were benefits as well. Ever since Bebe had agreed to stay behind, she had saved £2656.43! That would have never happened before. There is no gain without pain, she concluded.

 

Just as the expiry date of the visa was approaching, Bebe also decided that she had had enough of the UK. ‘They can have their Vilayat to themselves, I am going”, she thought. It was essential that she went back to her village and started to eat good, fresh saag and vegetables. These English vegetables were tasteless with too much water. But the daughter-in-law had other plans. Bebe could make out a case that her relations with her son and his wife had broken down. In fact they had abandoned her and it was only then that Bebe could easily get a council house, well even a flat would do.  She soon realised that she was daydreaming. As Bebe would grow older, she would get ‘more and more ill’ and it was her who would have to take time off to look after his mother. No! That option could only work if Bebe stayed in her own council flat and received care from the nurses.

 

Bebe was desperate to go back- she had been in the UK for 12 months. It was also becoming clear to all of them that immigration office would not extend her visa for another six months. Bebe was exhausted by childcare, ashamed of her daughter-in-law’s bad language and the sheer lack of respect. Just look at the tight trousers that she wore. If her husband had been alive, he would have sent her a ticket within ten days and she could leave the country on her own. She had been allowed to keep her passport but not the air ticket. If Bebe was to lose her Indian passport, life would not be too bad. Bebe’s son finalised the return to India and proceeded to buy shirts and sweaters for his cousins, only to be stopped in no uncertain terms by his wife. “I have cousins as well, you know?”

 

Bebe flew back to India within a few says after the shopping for gifts had been stopped. Her son also thought that the year had been very stressful and it was a good time for Bebe to go back. His wife was delighted with her a nice new kitchen with a dishwasher and the ‘laundry machine’.  What more did a woman want? Never mind about the ‘double storey’ oven. Bebe had helped them to save for a trip to Florida as well. Bebe was not that bad actually.. it was just her habits.

The New Migrants – Lives of the Asian Elderly

The Not-too-good side of Wahindi in Migration

The New York Times provides interesting accounts of the lives of elderly Asian and other migrants following the change of legislation which allows the elderly to join their sons and daughters who have made new lives in the US normally based on professional achievement or through success in business. Please see:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/31/us/31elder.html?pagewanted=1&hp

It should be pointed out that all the cases presented by the New York Times are not the typical subject of this blog- the East African Asian. But the stories also reflect how the Wahindi Mzee are going through difficult times in many cases. For the uninitiated, the ‘Mzee’ is an elderly person and the word also conveys a  form of respect in the way elderly persons are addressed in the Kenyan culture.

The temptation of the elderly to join their sons and daughters does not always bring peace and happiness for all in the family and also in the community.  The elderly spend their time in the streets for a combination of reasons, all a consequence of accepting an invitation to uproot themselves from their homes in India and elsewhere  to live a better life in Fremont, Southall or Toronto, to

• Live in with the sons and their families especially where daughters-in-law will agree or where the son is the dominant partner.
• Live in own accommodation provided by the sons (and daughters in many cases) and planned for in advance of their arrival- the best option- and still visit their grown up children and have the best of both worlds.
• Live in rented accommodation or at the bottom rungs of society in isolation, even in poverty. When the families fall apart, the culture of the extended family takes a hard hit and the older people suffer in the fallout.
• Live in own accommodation in the inner city areas. They may be enjoying the fruits of their retirement and may be enjoying their pension just as many other old-age pensioners. Why should they not venture into the city, they say?

 

In a few cases, the migrant elderly are on the street as a result of misfortune, excessive alcohol abuse and inability to go to the Sikh and Hindu Temples where active alcoholics may even be barred.

 

The comments that I make here focus on the Sikh elderly mainly because their arrivals into these cities are well known and almost predictable in numbers. The fact that the elderly are able to migrate is not entirely due to changes in legislation; the strong joint-family cultures can provide an extremely useful cushion for both the elderly and their sons and daughters where the arrangements work well. The pull of family values must still count otherwise it is difficult to see why some elderly people will give comfortable and secure lives in the home country to live in isolation in the US, Canada or UK.

 

What also merits discussion is the academic analysis of migration, the politics of decisions made by Western governments and the economics of the decision.

 

• The costs of assimilating elderly migrants must be lower than the cost of losing competent professionals whose parents and relations the elderly people generally tend to be. There is no evidence of such an analysis that I have seen and besides, should cost be the sole criterion for decision making in relation to the migration of the elderly? Do policy makers in immigration policy carry out a cost-benefit analysis of the decision to accept elderly migrants? Do they indeed and should they really?

 

• It also depends at what age the elderly first arrive in the new countries of choice. It is most likely that the majority will have worked in the labour force, paid their taxes and made a contribution to their pensions. They may also have their own homes, savings and in some cases, even a motorcar.  

 

The problem is not of economics but sociology. It would appear that the elderly migrants who tend to resort to spending their leisure time in the street could come from a combination of backgrounds; they could be relatively new arrivals, they could have fallen out with their sons and daughters or they may prefer to be on their own. But there is also the distinct possibility that a very few of them could be brave and adventurous and might have deviated from the trodden paths of other elderly migrants to go have a look at the ‘big city’, to learn how it works and see the sights for themselves.

 

However, the three New York Times articles tend to highlight the lives of the elderly who are not in the street by choice. These people are unhappy and reflect a sad and unplanned turning point in their lives. In that respect Fremont, Southall and Toronto have sadly a lot in common as far as the quality of the lives of the elderly migrants are concerned.

 

But it is not doom and gloom in all cases. In my next posting I look at some humorous aspects of extended family in the West. There is another dimension – the word ‘Mzee’ has been used in the above introduction.  Its true meanings are reflected the Kenyan culture and its attitudes towards the elderly. There are also many other interesting approaches to how the African in general treats their elderly in traditional and modern societies. This will be covered in a future post but any advanced thoughts are welcome, especially from East Africans. I am interested in how forms of address reflect cultural recognition of the elderly, how the emerging African societies in Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania are coping with strains and stresses of changing times in Africa and also the impact of urbanisation on traditional values.

Wilbur’s Reincarnation?…A new role for Wilbur in British public life

A True Story

 

This, as I say above, is a true story reported in today’s Sunday Times of 9th August 2009.

 

Wilbur the cat was sniffing around in its owner’s garden and enjoying the warm weather. During this time of year, the grass grows very fast and if you do not cut it regularly, it can become even harder to control, not to mention that it provides safe havens for visiting animals, pests and vermin.

 

Getting back to Wilbur, its sniffing and enjoyment of the smells of the new grass did not last long. The neighbour’s 13 ft python (Named here as ‘Taboo’) had escaped but the neighbour had not realised this.  Wilbur must have come face to face with Taboo and in one swoop at lightning speed, Taboo must have struck Wilbur and taken care of his feeding requirements for a few days. It appears that a python can take as many as two weeks to digest large animals… and so no trips to Sainsburys. But how do they know that Wilbur has been eaten by the snake?  Well, Wilbur’s remains were found in the snake and ‘x-rays’ have showed the metal tag that Wilbur has been wearing. The tag was a good idea..Wilbur never ran away from home but the tag helped its owners to identify the snake in its death.

 

Wilbur’s owners are reported to be devastated and feel very strongly that the neighbours’ python must be put away as well. The only problem is that pythons are not covered in the UK’s Dangerous Animals Act. They are not animals; therefore they cannot be classified as dangerous. There is no need even to build prisons for snakes. Taboo is safe and well for the moment. Wilbur’s owners have started a campaign to have snakes included in the Dangerous Animals Act so that Taboo’s relatives can be apprehended in every corner of the UK. The sleek, slimy, slithering Taboo has caused a problem for its entire community. Wilbur’s owners are also reported as saying that its death should not be in vain. Wilbur has become a campaigner from his cocoon inside the snake! Taboo goes around with utmost impunity as there are no indications that it was killed when it was found – the people who may have tried to kill it would have fallen foul of the law.

 

I am reminded of the many dogs that the Wahindi had in East Africa and how they were always at the mercy of Taboo’s African ancestors. The Asians did not seem to like cats as much as the English do and I have never fully understood the reason. Was it a cultural difference? Are cats considered to be evil and dirty? Did the Asians find that they could not cope with the cat’s dietary requirements? One thing I do know that Gujaratis had vegetarian dogs. They ate daal, bhat, vegetables with relish. I am not sure if they were fed with yogurt or ladoos because I have never heard of a dog with a sweet tooth. And the Sikhs fed their dogs with meat and left over bones in plenty. No research was carried out to show whether diet had a special effect on the dogs’ ultimate purpose – to provide security for its owners. Very few dogs enjoyed the comforts of the sofa in the owner’s house and almost all dogs belonging to the Wahindi slept outside and offered splendid service throughout their lives. Their favourite areas for sleeping was under the owner’s car…what fun to sleep under a sleek, brand new Mercedes? 

 

Our dogs were looked after by the house worker… that task was in his job description right from the start. The owners provided the essential cleaning agents and powders to keep the dogs clean and free from fleas and smells. It is not known which dogs were prone to more illness – the vegetarians or meat eaters. One would expect that the dog as a carnivore must have missed their true diet when they were brought up as pets in vegetarian households. Our dog was known as Jimmy and there so many stories to tell. Jimmy came to our household as a puppy and lived till the age of 13; in the UK Jimmy would have had a bus pass and could have claimed a pension if we had been skilled enough to register it as a human being. All I can say here is that the UK benefits system has been exploited by many people of all backgrounds…it would be very sad if our Jimmy was to spend some time in prison. Thankfully, Jimmy spared us the trouble; he died in 1971 and who knows? Jimmy might have anticipated the expulsion……

 

Talking about Jimmy, there are many stories to tell. He did a perfect job as a local guard dog and by feeding him with ghee and meat, we turned Jimmy into a local legend. Many Africans said that to hear Jimmy’s loud bark was enough to stop people passing by the roadside where Jimmy could see them from the gap under the door of the sakati, or yard. Did you have a Jimmy? I think the naming of the dog also conveyed a story and created the cultural framework between the dog and its owners. I am yet to figure out why many Asians spoke to their dogs in English, as we certainly did. Perhaps if Jimmy had been named Ranjit or Kaku would we have spoken to him in Punjabi? I am aware that one family of Gujarati dog owners had named their dog as ‘Moti’. But I am not aware if Moti was spoken to in Gujarati. There is certainly no information to confirm or deny that Moti enjoyed the poetry of Kavi Kalidas. By the way, if you happen to get your hands on a musical rendering of Shakuntala, one of Kalidas’s epics, do let me know. You wont, because I think I have the rare copy of the dance-drama which was performed at the Bhavan Centre nearly 20 years ago.

 

Let me hear your stories about dogs. The Chinese say that the best way to judge the character of a person is to ask him to describe his best friend or his worst enemy. Their comments can be so revealing. Let us beat the Chinese; they have no monopoly of wisdom. How people describe their dogs in this blog will emerge as a new science…and very soon we will attract competition. You see, copycats can be ruthless.

 

In the meantime spare a thought about Wilbur. If you are a lawyer, please send your suggestions which can be passed on to Wilbur’s owners on how they may proceed to work non-violently to change the law. In the meantime, it is clear that Taboo the python certainly had no respect for Gandhi ji.

Strike it lucky, a Ugandan Asian story

The Story of Daal, Rice, Achar and other “foods”

Following the Ugandan Asian expulsion, Lucky ‘Mann’ (not his real name) and his family went to settle in Canada. Lucky and his wife had worked hard while in Uganda and saved a bit of cash, enough to give them a better start in the new country of their choice than many hundreds of other Asians in the same situation. Lucky told this to me some time ago and I cannot say more for the reasons you will soon discover.

After the usual resettlement matters had been taken care of i.e. house, car, getting the children into school, Lucky started to miss the freedom he had enjoyed in his own business and the income that he become accustomed to. Here they were in Canada, while his extended family were seemingly having a great time in East Africa; enjoying the sun and having their clothes cleaned and ironed by Opio, the loyal house worker.

(I would never, ever describe these domestic workers as “servants”; it is such a mean and derogatory term. How can one be so big and important that another human being can be their servant? I will come back to discuss more of this major concern of mine, but at some other time.

One day, there was a knock at the door. At the same time Lucky heard the sound of a large truck with a loud engine coming towards his house. Lucky opened the door and found that it was a parcel delivery truck. The delivery man walked up to Lucky and put a cardboard flap with papers under his nose, asking Lucky to sign for accepting the delivery of a huge crate, the size of a single bed. But Lucky told the delivery man that he was not the man to whom the crate was addressed. He was not going to take the delivery. The man insisted, saying that as far as he knew, Lucky was also from Uganda and that perhaps he could help find the real owner of the crate, which had left Uganda about four months earlier. Lucky took the delivery with some guilt and some anticipation; perhaps the true owners could be found…. On the following weekend, Lucky and his wife started to open the crate, knowing that it was bound to carry household stuff that the unlucky person had sent to Canada but after such a long delay, the parcel was effectively lost. It is also possible that the owner did not pursue the post office believing that the parcel had never left the country; those very helpful people in East African Airways had indeed helped, but only themselves. Lucky got the packaging out of the way and saw that there were several round metal canisters with secure lids, also made of the same light metal. He recognised that it was the type of container which was used to store uncooked food, mainly lentils, rice, dry powders, haldi, red chilli powder and that sort of storable items, in his mother’s kitchen. Lucky put his hand into the first canister of urid daal to check whether it was infested with insects, soaked in water vapour or dry enough to cook. It was in good condition and Lucky decided to check whether the can was dry right down to the bottom.

He did not get a chance to hit the bottom. Instead his hand felt a solid object with a smooth surface. Lucky took it out and found that he was staring at a large gold nugget! He called in his wife who was also stunned by their discovery. They decided to shut the door and draw the curtains of the room, also remembering to push the children into the lounge to watch the television; weren’t there so many good programmes on Saturday mornings, beta? No go, go please okay? Lucky and his lucky wife went from one canister to another, opening in haste and rushing to pull out more and more nuggets of gold. The precious metal was found in all dry foods except the achars. Lucky and now his also lucky wife started to pack the gold quickly, almost expecting to hear a knock at the door. A passing truck got Lucky thinking that the delivery vehicle was back, coming to reclaim the crate. They worked out a plan… the crate had to be discarded quickly and the canisters had to be stored at the bottom of empty suitcases in the cellar. The gold had to be hidden away in the attic. Lucky decided that keeping the separated items in one location was not a good idea. They had to be dispersed. He spent the whole of his Sunday morning breaking down the crate into small pieces so that they could fit into the boot of his tiny car. After several journeys to the waste yard, the crate had been safely disposed off, just before the yard closed for the day. Lucky and also his get-quick-lucky wife decided to be patient and to hold on to their newly found treasure for a few months, until the Ugandan Asian ‘business’ had died down. Then one by one, after safe intervals, Lucky Mann and wife disposed off the gold and the refinancing of the poor, poor Ugandan migrants’ life had started.

No one knew where the true owners of the crate were. It was later generally understood that many departing Asians had stuffed gold or other precious items into cheap looking parcels and crates. One would hope that the majority of the owners were safely reunited with their goods. It was inevitable that some would not even leave the country and other crates would be lost in transit. Lucky’s gain was someone else’s loss. It took Lucky nearly 35 years to divulge their secret. I have not told you this story. I am merely reporting what Lucky told me.

Introducing Vali and Son

The love of labour? Or a labour of love?

Introducing Vali Jamal and Son. “Vali Jamal and Son”, nah, it is not a business on Jinja Road, Kampala. It is a creative enterprise between a father, Vali- and son Arafat Jamal who tirelessly bring out news, analysis and original interpretation of the past, present and futures of East African Asians, who left the countries of Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania at different stages in the post colonial era to build new homes and futures in Europe, The Americas, and Asia but predominantly in the United Kingdom, US and Canada. Vali and Arafat make a formidable team who invest their time and money to help revive, promote and redevelop the fraternity and fellowship that made East Africa a unique place.

You had to be in it to win it; it was a prize that you only won if you invested in developing fellowship. Vali and Arafat know a trick or two and the contacts to match. What will posterity say when people talk about the East African ‘story’ in 20, 30 or 50 years time? Not much just as I discovered when in Kampala last year (2008). I met many young Africans who had only  vaguely heard about Idi Amin but not every youngster I talked to had heard about the expulsion of the Asian community. The growth of Uganda’s population has been so fast that when staying at the Sheraton, the staff pointed to the oldest member of staff on a particular shift on duty. He was at 34 old enough to have heard about the Asian story. To borrow Gunnar Myrdal’s skill in titling, he was barely aware of ‘The East African Dilemma’. The same is happening in the west where children and grandchildren of the Wahindi have not fully recognised the historic significance of the East African Asian story. Vali and Arafat, with the help of many volunteers and well-wishers and supporters are now working on a new book on the Great East African Story that has not been told. A terrific initiative, the Jamals’ book and blog are attracting information and pictures on a daily basis. But it is also your chance to add your own contribution to the book, which is now a communally shared ‘work-in- progress’ or “wip”.

You must join the project or at least check it out. The Jamals are coming. People say that you cannot write a report by committee. That may be true, but here people are collectively helping Vali and Arafat to write what should emerge as a tome of excellence; the history book of all history books. Why? Because it aims to cover so many aspects of the East African heritage and nostalgia; it is your story.

When touring in the Chinese province of Sichuan some months ago, our driver and ‘the bus boy’ refused to have lunch and refreshments with us during rest breaks. They were adamant and were prepared to go hungry but would not bring themselves to sit at the same table with the ‘high class visitors’ – thats me and my family. “Oh come off it”, I told them. We are East Africans and we have never discriminated against people who come from a lower ‘station’ in life. We have learnt to respect people for what they bring to a relationship and many of us miss the connection we had with African friends, neighbours, class fellows and work mates. The Chinese driver, speaking to us through a highly articulate tour guide and interpreter then said “A man who does not know where he is going should at least know where he has come from”. We all laughed loudly, shook hands incessantly and together ate one of the best Chinese meals that I have ever enjoyed, one from the ‘dhabba’ or hut on the roadside. This was the confluence of the Yangtse and another great Chinese river…. where the waters are rough and very  angry. And a large stone statue of Buddha watches over the ‘sangam’ the meeting point; a word that has been immortalised by Raj Kapoor’s Sangam. Vali and Arafat not only know where they have come from but also know where they are going. But you can help to enrich the sangam, the celebration of our cultural heritage in cyberspace and then in the book.

 Hurry up! Space is limited.

Visit www.vivaeastafrica.blogspot.com  Vali Jamal, BA Cantab, PhD Stanford, 1976-2001 Senior Economist, ILO. Author: Ugandan Asians: Then and Now, Here and There. We Contributed, We Contribute (forthcoming Nov 2009).

Please also see “VALI JAMAL’ OPUS”  by clicking the page title below the picture

The Search for High Value Items

Once the notice of expulsion was finally accepted by the Asian community, the massive task of preparations began. This little episode deals with some reactions of my mother-in-law. We rushed to the shops to buy something that everyone would need – suitcases! On arriving at the main shop on Kampala Road, we soon realised that the best suitcases and travel bags had already gone. We wanted to buy the most expensive items in order to use up our stocks of Ugandan shillings. Then, while looking at the less attractive items on sale, we noticed that the prices had been hiked to unacceptable levels. Worthless items of travelling gear had been priced to generate ridiculously high profit margins for the shops. In fact, everyone was unusually looking for the most expensive stock to use up their money rather than leaving it behind.

 We picked up some suitcases, essentially made of pressed cardboard with horrible green and brown colour patterns that reminded one of a terminally ill crocodile if that is indeed the pattern was aimed to show. It was a fake crocodile skin ‘pattern’ but somehow the owner of the skin had not taken care of his health! My mother-in-law reached out for the suitcase and then, while slowly beginning to accept the inevitable, she asked how much it cost. “Two thousand shillings, Ma Ji” replied the retailer with immense respect for the elderly lady. “What, two thousand shillings? How dare you call me Ma Ji?” The retailer was surprised but quickly resumed the sale. My mother-in-law wanted to know how much profit he was making from each sale. She was annoyed that this man was making money out of people’s misery. “So, what are you going to do with all the profit?” she asked. She wanted to know if he was going to take with him to his next life. I urged her to make up her mind so that I could pay up and leave. However, she still had one more question for the shop keeper “How the hell are you going to get the money out of the country, you rotten soul?” she asked. The shop keeper burst out laughing, “Ma ji, we are Gujarati traders, we know how to get our money out. We are not Sardarjis; we know our business” he confirmed. Mother-in-law had had enough. “Let us go and have a look somewhere else”, she commanded and walked out.

Of course the same thing happened in the next shop and the one after that - prices had shot through the roof as the traders realised that once their stock was sold, they would also be leaving!