Leadership at the time of need -2

I am going back to my views on Asian leadership at the time of expulsion. Let’s revisit the second question which was:

• Did the Asian leaders fulfill the implied obligations that the departing Asian community had expected?

On reflection, why was there an ‘implied’ need or obligation? Leaders are appointed as leaders because they are expected to lead. Are they? Really? It really depended on the interpretation of their role by the leaders themselves. In the absence of a politically affiliated framework, Asian leaders in East Africa saw themselves as religious or faith leaders most of the time when they were elected in faith- based organisations. It was also a role which many performed extremely well – making arrangements for regular events according to the cultural calendar, such As Diwali, Gurpurb, Eid and New Year celebrations. Arrangements for marriages, deaths and other functions connected to the rites of passage were also well managed considering that many volunteers were involved. Even the cleaning of the food halls and the communal kitchens was carried out by volunteers – in most cases the paid African workers were not particularly welcome in the communal kitchens, where ‘kosher’ food was prepared under vigilance. This policy reflected more the puritanical outlooks of the management and the members of the organisation.

Were the Asians fully aware of the implications of African independence on their status as non-citizens? It would seem that they understood the meaning of independence more in relation to concerns for work permits, jobs and trading licenses than in the context of self-determination of a people who were taking control of their own destiny. Besides, independence was not altogether a new experience! One did not need to be reminded that it was India that had first attained independence! A few farsighted leaders arranged the odd talk or advisory session during the period immediately before independence of Uganda. One that I went to attend dealt with ‘dos’ and ‘don’ts’ after the country became independent.  There was no mention to the people they would do well to have valid travel documents for the whole family. It must be granted that if the briefing process was not carefully managed, the leaders could be exposed to risk and accused of creating a panic during the run up to independence.

However, when the Asian expulsion was announced, there was no advice given to people who had been caught unprepared. Most of the leaders did not organise meetings to discuss the situation with the communities that they were leading. There was very little mention of support that could be arranged or really, needed to be arranged to help the departing families prepare themselves for the ordeals ahead of them. It seems that the leaders either failed to rise to the challenge or did not recognise that they had a responsibility. This is the reason for describing their leadership role as real and ‘implied’ roles.

One of our friends, Ranjit (not his real name) was caught in a situation where his British passport had been replaced by his newly acquired Ugandan Citizenship. He did not wish to stay in Uganda. The best option for him was to queue outside the British High Commission and to seek support for his application to go to the UK, a nationality which he had only recently given up. It had become known that the average waiting time before one could see an officer in the British High Commission (BHC) was twenty four hours. So about six of us went to offer moral support and also to queue for Ranjit…and give him breaks.  We arrived at the BHC at around 9 am hoping for the best. A long queue had already formed and people who were joining it the back could not even see the BHC building. The queue was moving at snail’s pace but people were talking, comparing their passport ‘situations’ and reasons for being in the queue, their family needs and how they were facing immense challenges. There was some humour from time to time and also commotion when the queue became unruly. The policemen would walk over to the queue and ordered the people to sort themselves out. The queue itself was very vigilant; making sure that no one was jumping the queue by performing a number of ingenious tricks backed by spurious explanations.

 

It was early evening and some of us had left our homes 12 hours earlier. There was a constant number of people coming to the queue and speaking to the person in front or behind. Almost all of these people were family members or friends who making sure that their relative was safe and comfortable. Then it was noticed that a particular man who was carrying a large bag with a strap over his shoulder was receiving quite a lot of visitors and all of them were very polite and formal towards him. Every conversation ended with      “So you’ve got everything, all the documents and everything will fine, Okay? Okay, yes? Yes.”And the man would reply with confidence that they would get their entry visas into the UK by noon the next day. He even said to some people that he had already spoken to a Mrs. K at the High Commission and ‘Kai Wandho nathi’ i.e. there was nothing to worry about. Then, a man came to check that the person in front of me was really the person who had his case to present to the High Commission. I asked him how many entry visa cases he was going to present to the BHC officers when he reached the desk. He ignored my question. “How many passports are you carrying?” I asked with some sternness which even surprised me. He replied “Not too many, don’t worry”. “How many passports are you carrying?” I asked loudly. He replied the number was 25 but most were for families with similar problems. I said that how I wished that his services were widely available and asked him how much did he charge per case? Maybe Ranjit, my friend should have asked for his help? He replied that he charged up to 1000 Ugandan shillings or more depending on the case, per passport. I suddenly told him very confidently that I estimated that he had 200 passports in his bag; which he contested with equal vigour. Then he said it was only 50 passports and it dawned on me that my friend Ranjit’s case would not even be heard as we would run of out of time. I asked him how many passports he was carrying for his own family. He replied, with considerable irritation that he was just acting for other people. I then told the person behind me that the man probably had 200 passports in his bag. The word started to spread and then someone shouted “Get rid of the Passport Agent, get rid of him”.

 

The policemen on guard suddenly realised that they had a worthwhile task to deal with and so they walked up to him, with me, aged 22, looking into his bag. “He is an agent and making money out of the needs of desperate people,” I spoke with great confidence, drawing on my investigations and feeling morally very superior but almost addressing the police. The policemen decided to deal with the easy issues first and said “Misita Seengh, you keepi quiet or I willi senda you home.” That was it. He had succeeded in silencing me with those few words. Then another man in the parallel queue said to the policeman,” Bwana, he is an agent and he is not here for his own family. He is making money…look at him, the evil bastard.” The policemen turned to him and said,” You! You willi not sweayar in thisi q, I am in chargi”. That brought the other man to silence. The policemen and the ‘agent’ were then involved in a conversation for quite some time. And then he turned around and summoned the Military Police van “He is an agent, take him away”. A loud cheer and hundreds of claps were followed by a sudden silence.

 

What were they going to do with him? It was too late. My intervention was probably going to lead the agent to prison and even death, I thought with increasing remorse. I spoke to the man in the parallel queue and he replied “Don’t worry, Sardarji, he will pay a few hundred bob and will be back in this queue tomorrow.” That sounded very reassuring. By this time it was dawn and in a few hours our friend Ranjit would be back from home and make a case for his entry into the UK. I moved out of the queue and someone else took my place to await Ranjit’s arrival. At exactly 9.36 am, Ranjit was called into the British High Commission by someone who said that she was Mrs. K. By 9.43am, Ranjit was out of the building. His case for an entry into the UK had been rejected. We had queued for over 24 hours and it took 7 minutes to dismiss his application.

How many hundreds or even thousands of people had a problem similar to Ranjit? Did the Asian leaders have a role if not a duty to help the very people who had donated small amounts of money to build the institutions that had given the leaders the power to lead?  Here are the scenarios that a proactive and problem solving leadership might have considered:

1. Start negotiations with the British High Commission to try to agree some issues in principle. They could have tried to negotiate a simpler method for processing documents.
2. Appoint a few lawyers with experience of immigration law to work urgently with families needing support. Once their documents had been validated, the lawyers could have been supported to work outside the queuing system since the principle of  ‘first-come first served’ did not apply.
3. Seek collective guidance from the embassies of other countries to help arrange safe passage of Asian families to their countries.

 It is not known whether any such attempts were made by Sikh, Hindu and Gujarati community leaders. The Ismaili community stole the honours; they were well represented, supported and also funded by the community leaders and The Aga Khan, their spiritual leader. Having said this, it became known later that a few poor Sikh families were offered confidential help to buy air travel tickets.

It remains to be judged by posterity whether Asian leadership had failed to rise to the challenge of supporting their communities immediately after the expulsion. It is difficult to be conclusive at this stage because more reliable information and evidence is needed. However, it is unlikely that accurate information will be available for very much longer. The majority of the older leaders are no longer alive. In the absence of records, an issue to return to at another time, it is almost certain that Asian community leaders failed to lead conclusively and comprehensively. Their communities were on their own, with little or no support.

 

 

Why Everyone Needs a True Sister

Many years ago a number of us worked on a new drama production called, “The Story of Asha, Ayesha and Usha”. It grew out my conviction around 1999 that the new Millennium was not going to offer any utopias, not even a world of perfection where no one harmed anybody and women had their fundamental rights protected. Well there are 91.5 years left to prove me wrong. I have placed a £50 note under Nelson’s Column in Trafalgar Square, London, for any reader who cares to remember in 2099 and to check it out. Boris Johnson, may need to be reminded that very important pledges have been made to upgrade the quality of life of Asian elderly and that the £50 note is intended for charitable use only. No Member of Parliament is allowed to use the money to cover expenses.

Our sister Asha grew up with four brothers and had the qualifications of a UN Secretary General but only missed her appointment because Idi Amin had reserved that job for himself,  a security adviser – to inform us when dad was in a bad mood just as we stepped in at midnight after a hockey game had ended in the late afternoon, a fire fighter- who kept all tensions away by making sure that the neighbour, a nosey massi, an elderly Gujarati lady who was everything but an aunt by making sure that she did not have contact with our parents,  a scout- she would keep a lookout for unwanted guests who would always walk in just as we were leaving to go and see an ‘educational’ but ‘ X ‘ rated film at the Norman cinema. You see, our dad had this view that every western picture was a serious threat to our tender Sikh morals and while films relating to war, famine, bank robberies, arson, car thefts, booby-trap bombing and Hiroshima were not going to hurt us in any way, it was scenes of the stuff that goes on between the shameless white women and their men when they did not even switch off the lights….That were the real threat to our outlook on life and would leave us without qualifications.

Asha was also an ambassador- who went with our parents to see three extended families which had so many sons and daughters that someone was always getting married or someone was always having a baby. Why was that so important?  Our parents wanted the relations to know that their children cared for the extended family; an emotional blackmailer- who drove us nuts if we did not slip a 10 shilling note into her chemistry textbook, a smuggler- who made sure that all the nice samosas packed in newspapers were reserved for us in a rusty bucket hidden under the table when we went to the Gurdwara and a hockey player- who executed tasks to a precise finish each time, leaving the players of the opposite side holding their painful ankles, rubbing their groins, pressing their exploding ribs and massaging their swollen fingers after she had complied to our instructions and at each command, raised her stick in the air but always below the regulation height.  The “instructions”, which could be issued at anytime in a hockey match had one common factor – she was only brought in to inflict pain and injury on the good players of the other side by deftly swinging a hockey stick or hitting a ball so hard at close range that the players would hold up their sticks in the air in utter disbelief while the balls found their targets. Many an important hockey tournament was won when Asha was playing in our team and it did not surprise us as much as the local newspapers when we finished the hockey season at the bottom of the fourth division; Asha got married that year. We did not let any of the major companies know that their share price would almost quadruple if Asha even as much as sat in their reception. She was a source of immense good luck but offering her a job was of no use – she used to get bored so easily that once she even demanded we have a hockey practice in board room of IBM where dad’s company had been called in to fix a film screen much to my dad’s displeasure. Was IBM going to screen those nasty films in their Board Room as well? The world was changing so fast…IBM managers were shown sleazy movies as a part of their training in salesmanship.

But it was none of the above qualities that really mattered. In fact the tasks she achieved above were so ordinary that I have use a thousand words instead publishing a single picture. The real achievements had started when Asha was just under nine years old. A departing English colonialist had left a car behind when it was still being repaired by a local garage. The garage owners knew that they were not going to be paid and so they decided to move it out of the workshop to create space for the cars of other English colonialist civil servants who always paid their bills in time, mostly by bringing in bottles of scotch whiskey that had been brought into the country in a large white crate with the words ‘medical supplies’ tastefully painted on the side of the crate. A Red Cross which had its arms longer than its only leg had also been added in a hurry; the red drops of paint had dripped downwards, leading to concerns that Dracula had come to Kampala.

So Asha and some of us decided to check out the abandoned car. It was fast becoming a wreck- its windscreen wipers were used by the farmer to clean his kitchen windows, one of the seats was used by the neighbour’s house worker when he had the rare occasion to take a long rest on Wednesday afternoons – an auspicious time for all Indian women who went to the temple for ‘ladies only’ prayers much to the annoyance of the local cinema manager who had also programmed to screen ‘Ghar Ghar ki Kahani’ at the same time. You see, the elderly mothers-in-laws who went to see this film also found it so gratifying that they were not the only ones who had their sons’ wives beaten regularly. It was the story of every household with daughter-in-laws. Anyway, we decided to check out the car and I was given the first “ride”, except that the wheels had been stolen and the car was carefully placed on building blocks, with the overhanging ends of each axle carefully placed on a block of timber over and above the cement blocks. My “drive” was short but interesting. Then two other brothers took a long time having their fun at driving the car at great speeds. One of them felt that by placing the car on high blocks, the garage owner had deprived us budding rally drivers of a feeling of movement. Far too many screeching brakes had been applied to no effect – the car did not even move a little to its side when cornering. So Asha was asked to push the car, which she did so quickly that the car fell off the blocks. Brothers nearly fell out of the vehicle, with one lying in the legroom of the back seat, with a cardboard flap advertising tampons almost covering his face. We slowly collected our wits and found that thankfully no one was hurt. A missing turban was found under the driver’s seat. There was some smell of oil but that was only to be expected on a race track, you know.

It was then that we suddenly remembered that Asha was nowhere to be seen. The nasty thought hit me that she might be actually lying underneath the car with her eyes shut. Doors were swung open in great haste and on coming out we looked towards the front and back and again to the front looking for Asha. But there was Asha with tears in her eyes. I ignored one brother who was asking me why we were looking for Asha at the front when she was supposed to be pushing the car at the back. On closer examination we discovered that when the car was heaving backwards and forwards, she had forgotten to move her foot out of the way. My brother asked with great feeling, intense care and love “Why did you push the car so hard Asha? You should know that it was placed on these blocks”. Asha replied in a strange voice that she wanted to give us a real feeling of speed. Why was she not wearing her stiff school shoes? How could you push the car from the side? When pushing a car to start, you always pushed it from the b-a-a-ck and the axle would not have dropped on her foot. It was her fault. Soon the technicalities were sorted out but it suddenly dawned on us that it was getting dark and that our parents would be waiting for us at home with very hot vindaloo and supposedly, a tasty chicken curry.  That was the real challenge of the evening; not the curry but how we could get Asha through the back door of the house without dad finding out that she had been injured.

More  on  this very soon.

Dealing with needs at the time of expulsion: Asian Leadership in Uganda -1

 The Story of the Bhajia

I had only just added the previous topic to the blog on Asian leadership at the time of distress caused by the notice of expulsion by Idi Amin that I was both pleased and surprised with responses from two close friends.

After considerable thought, I am afraid I have come to negative conclusions and have found that leadership was largely lacking and distinct in its presence through disunity. Commentators never send comments to the blog; they write to me personally, which is also fine.

In order to analyse Asian leadership I have applied three questions:

1. Who were the Asian leaders and what did we expect from them?
2. Did they fulfill the implied obligations that the departing Asian community had expected?
3. Did they succeed in supporting the community at the worst hour of their need? Where is the evidence?

In trying to address the first question, one has to understand what we mean by an ‘Asian leader’. There were leaders of social and religious organisations whose remit was to run the programmes of specific interest to their closed communities. Virtually all of the Sikh and Hindu leaders were connected with religious organisations – Gurdwaras and temples which celebrated specific religious dimensions and even deities of choice. Some, if not most of the temples, were defined by their narrow caste and social class subscriber base. Only in a few cases, especially in the Hindu institutions, the organisations stood for wider Hindu commitment to the more generic and unifying agenda of Lord Krishna’s dream religion and membership was cross cultural to include Gujaratis and Hindu Punjabis sections of the community. The Sikhs temples also largely followed the social caste divisions – the Jat Sikhs established the Singh Sabha temples and the Ramgharia communities set up separatist provision based on their narrow agenda on the role of Ramgharia movement in the development of the Sikh religion. In almost all cases, it was the leaders who fuelled the fires of separatism – because that is how leaders derived their power and authority. Voting for communal unity must have been very boring and unproductive; the religious leaders thrived in leading narrow sectional interests. Clearly, they were not politically ambitious in wanting to extend their influence to civil society as a whole. The Muslim and Ismaili religious leaders also subscribed to narrow religious sentiment as they were expected to do so. However, in the case of Ismaili leaders, their beneficial impact also crossed religious boundaries.

As young Sikh students at Makerere University, a number of us were interested in celebrating the 500^th Anniversary of the birth of Guru Nanak, the founder of the Sikh faith. We were unified in our attempts despite the presence of students from different caste backgrounds. We were young and ambitious, eager to plant the agenda for unity and saw Guru Nanak as a shared asset. We went to see the Ramgharia leaders. They received us with utmost courtesy and gave us bhajia and sweet tea. They applauded our interest in religion and our mission to celebrate the major milestone in the Sikh faith. They asked who else we were talking to and in our youthful exuberance we named the key people we had seen and others that we were planning to see. The leaders offered us more team and bhajia. They then asked us to detail our plans for the celebration on the Makerere University campus. We gave respectfully outlined our plans and timetables for various events. Our star of the show was going to be Khushwant Singh, the well known journalist, academic, satirist and scholar. The leaders were thrilled and in our excitement we ate more bhajia but there was still a lot more left. By the time the bhajia finally lost its appeal, we also noted that the leaders had gone quiet. Then one of them spoke almost as cautiously as if he was reading the London A-Z road guide. They were going to support us! We reached out for the bhajia plates. They were going to reward us for our convictions and just as we decided to eat more bhajia to celebrate their generosity, they said that they would make a large communal donation of around £5000 but individually, they would also sponsor the supplement in the Uganda Argus newspaper by taking out advertisements through their businesses.  We were ever more pleased. By that time all the bhajia had been eaten but the triumvirate of president, secretary and treasurer offered us dinner at a posh restaurant in town. We realised that we had eaten most of the bhajia and our leaders were hungry! We did not realise that they wanted to go out of the Gurdwara because they were also thirsty.

So I spoke with some confidence as I had a relative in their committee. We wanted to know when we could pick up the cheque for £5,000. One of the students in my team was going to call them to arrange to collect advertising copy. What a wonderful evening! A date was agreed when the cheque would be ready for collection. We gratefully declined the dinner and left for Makerere. I remember some handshakes and hugging.

A few days later I phoned the relative in the temple committee and he said that he would rather see me face-to-face. A small problem had arisen. They were not going to give us the funds unless we agreed to stop approaching the other Sikh temples in town. The main Gurdwara would sponsor the whole evening and in return for an exclusive arrangement they also wanted to honour Khushwant Singh… and it was only natural that the leaders should be offered the privilege to address the audience. Our programme was going to be scuppered and three leaders with basic education were going to address the Makerere University faculty and visiting dignitaries and diplomats. The main leader was so excited that he offered to send his draft speech for our scrutiny. It arrived within a couple of days via his driver and it started as follows:

“It gives us the greatest pleasures to welcomes yous to this functions ….”

The leader generously gave us the opportunity to make ‘any amendments’ to his draft speech. But we were looking at a rewrite of the whole speech. We decided unanimously not to accept any money with preconditions and I was asked to politely communicate our decision through my contact in the Gurdwara. That was hardly a problem; he was my father.

The above case, amusing as it was also prepared us for the decision of the other Sikh temple near the Entebbe Road roundabout. They also wanted exclusive rights to the Makerere programme and in return they would ask their leaders to fund the event and also make a substantial donation to the university. We decided to forego this offer and rushed back to the campus to work out a shoe-string budget to celebrate the event.

Two points of detail must not be forgotten… we had thoroughly enjoyed the bhajia and unending cups of sweet tea. But on the home ‘front’, I had to deal with a thoroughly irritated parent; I had insulted him by challenging the Gurdwara leaders.

The above case-study has only partly answered the first question – who were the leaders and what did we expect from them?

More on this later.

The politics of difference and disunity

Recent debates relating to Vali Jamal’s work have highlighted a number of key issues.

 

The first one relates to the decision made by Idi Amin to expel the Ugandan Asians in 1972. The term ‘Ugandan Asians ‘ is a misnomer as people with an ‘origin in the Indian Sub-Continent’, that is,  British Nationals, Indian, Pakistani, Sri Lankan, Bengali and Bangladeshi  were also included. Then there were the ‘true’ Ugandan Asians – those who had acquired Ugandan Citizenship and were considered by some commentators to have paid a high price for their decision to become Ugandan Nationals. Why? They were the only ones who had committed themselves to live and invest in Uganda. In many cases the Ugandan Asians had also invested substantial personal funds to leverage bank loans and equity finance to start large businesses. When the announcement from Idi Amin came, it applied uniformly to all people with South Asian DNA; they were all included in the expulsion order. Although exceptions were made by the Ugandan Government and more people could apply to stay behind if they met certain conditions, the fear for personal safety of their families, especially of women and girls meant that even the Ugandan Asians felt that the risks of remaining in Uganda outweighed the benefits of living in there. Consequently, the ‘Ugandan Asian’ expellees consisted of several sub-groups that were distinguished by nationality, religion, country of origin, caste, socio-economic class and many other differentiators that mattered to them were of no concern to Idi Amin.

 

As a quick aside and a point to be discussed later, relates to ‘Asians’ who live in West London and more specifically in Southall in the London Borough of Ealing. The Asians have expressed grave concerns about the arrival according to their perception a large of Shamali, a derogatory term which applies to people whose origins are in the countries of the Horn of Africa and adjoining territories. They are all branded as Somali and in a number of well publicised cases, their presence on the streets of Southall have caused some concern to the Asian population principally owing to stereotyping; the Somalis are seen in a poor light and with perhaps, many racial undertones which are based on fear.

 

Returning to the current debates on Vali Jamal’s private List concerning Ugandan Asians at the time of expulsion, there are several factors that are worth noting:

 

a)      The departing Asians were not politically driven by participation at grassroots level. Consequently, the potential political leaders could be counted to add up to the fingers of two hands. They were people such as Dayabhai Patel, Gurdial Singh Ahluwalia and Shafiq Arain who had been active in party politics but were not perceived as leaders by the departing Ugandan Asians. Their advice was considered to be interesting and helpful but not binding or influential.

 

b)      The Asian leaders who had some influence were heads of religious or faith-based organisations – not necessarily religious in all cases but they derived their authority from managing places of worship.

 

c)       Businessmen, who were in some cases the employers of the departing Asians but had no real power or command over the lives of the highly fragmented leaderless and rudderless Asian society of the time.

 

d)      One or two businessmen have been reported to have broken the law through business malpractice – over-invoicing, that is, incorrect valuation of imports which supported their intention to externalise vast amount of funds. There have been suggestions that a number of major cases had riled Idi Amin but he did not use the framework of legislation to bring these errant businessmen to book or discharge them for lack of evidence. There have been suggestions that Idi Amin was so seriously angered by the behaviour of these businessmen that he decided that ‘getting rid’ of the whole of the Asian community was the only solution which would protect Uganda from the antics of ruthless exporters.

 

e)      A few large communities, notably Ismaili and perhaps, Lohana could well argue that they were united at the time of expulsion and that their leadership worked behind the scenes to seek a reversal of Idi Amin’s order. Perhaps the evidence of these efforts will come to light one day…

 

The overall assessment appears to be that the departing Asians did not receive guidance or quality advice. In the main, their leaders were not sufficiently respected or even trusted to have an impact on the highly fluid situation which was fed by rumour and fear mongering on a daily basis. It is also conceivable that many aspiring leaders had very little clout with government but they were also rendered virtually helpless because they were afraid and did not wish to endanger themselves and their families and extended families.

 

The exodus was almost ‘united’ in its energy but bound by difference, with minimal influence of common factors which could have made a difference to strong, well respected and influential leadership.

The Search for Joginder Singh…another Safari celebration!

Forty years later… another two ‘winners’ of the Safari

My article on the East African Safari generated many discussions and I have received extensive feedback via emails but none could beat the most interesting response from Mohan Patel.  Earlier this month Mohan wrote to ‘Wahindi’ with incredible news which would definitely be of interest to Joginder Singh, whose historic win made him famous and East African Asians still remember the day when he and his brother Jaswant Singh received the prize for their splendid win after a gruelling Rally in an old model of Volvo, the PV544.

 

Mohan’s email is reproduced virtually unedited and he says,

“I have been reading your and Vali Jamal’s articles and was most interested to read your blog on legendary Joginder Singh. My wife Gita has been a fan of Joginder since her Nairobi days and has kept a copy of the East African Standard (newspaper) of 21st March 1969 and since she has read your blog wants to pass this newspaper to you as she thinks you deserve it. She has kept it for last 40 years hoping to pass it on to Joginder’s family but has not come round to locate them. The article is about 1969 Safari before it took place and a Don Beet, a journalist, joins them on practice run. It covers full page with three photographs.

 

My wife has never driven a car but whenever I am driving, it feels as I have a Safari navigator with me all the time till she falls asleep on a long journey……”

 

Mohan and Gita, thank you very much for such a wonderful gesture! This blog would greedily accept your offer and take the Standard newspaper off you! Who wouldn’t? But no, your perseverance has to be properly rewarded. You are the true winners. I am going to look for Joginder Singh as I have several leads that I would like to explore. Sooner or later, I would like to arrange for you both to meet with Joginder Singh and to hand over the copy of that special newspaper to Joginder Singh yourself! We will be in attendance and take a few pictures for readers.

The search for Joginder has started…

Can you speak Gujarati?

Would you try to act as an interpreter without knowing anything about the issues being discussed?  

 

I did, and I was only ten years old.

A good friend sent me a test which would decide whether I could speak good Gujarati. I promised that I will take that test.

 

When in Kampala, in the mid 1960’s I used to accompany the neighbouring massi (an elderly aunt) and her newly arrived bahu (i.e. daughter-in-law) who had arrived from India, to the Missionary run Mengo Hospital in Kampala. The bahu had some women’s problems. Now both massi and bahu could not speak to the English doctors. I was recruited on my mum’s expert recommendation and at the hospital I managed to ask all of the doctor’s questions in Gujarati and then relay the answers to the doctor in English, not for a moment understanding the connections with the daughter-in-law’s acute sensitivities or even getting embarrassed myself. I was only 10 years old and did not know anything about the “issues” involved! I did all the interpreting so well that even the doctor smiled at me. They say that ignorance is bliss but in this case ignorance was exploited.

 

Consider this. The doctor asked the poor girl to go into the private examination area, which was basically a high level mattress stuck in a wooden tray, in the corner of the room, surrounded by two long curtains. The girl did not move. The doctor politely waved his hand slowly and stopped at the opening of the curtain. ‘Please step inside, I would like to examine you’, he told her. The bahu could barely speak and looked at me. I also waved my hand skillfully and added that she was to be seen by the doctor. She asked where I was going to stand. I stood still outside the curtain. She then looked pleadingly at the mother-in-law who said with informed authority, “Jao beta, jao” and the young girl slowly walked into the area behind the curtain.

 

The massi and I stood outside, expectantly looking at each other and then at the curtain.  I do not what the massi was thinking but I was quite ready for another question from the doctor. Instead massi and I heard a few deep hums, with hushed words from the girl. “Ba! Aa boley chey ke sarlo utaru”. Massi, always quick on the uptake said, “ Koi baat nahin, beta…utari dewo”. Just as I realised that I had been left out of the loop, I asked Massi “Sarlo kiya hota?” The massi ignored my question and looked away. When she looked at me again she realised that I was waiting patiently for an answer. She explained that it was an undergarment by showing me a tiny bit of her own; it was basically a large underskirt.  The doctor completed his examination and came out from behind the curtain just as the massi’s sarlo was being hidden away. I will not discuss the bahu’s confidential medical case here…

 

It only occurred to me a few years ago that I would have been dropped from that role if I had been a smarter child. In today’s culture, exposing a child to questions relating to a woman’s body cycles, anatomy and her mental health would be labeled as ‘abuse’. So any talk of speaking Gujarati sends my mind into a spin!

The East African Safari is waiting for you…

 

Talent undiscovered..

The East African Safari Rally of the late 1960s and early 1970s is the one that I came to know the best. It also produced so many new and unknown rally drivers. I mean the real but unofficial ones, the unrecognised self-sponsored copycat drivers who came into their being every time the rally was taking place. There was a great deal of over-speeding, hair-raising turns and fast get-aways from traffic lights with screeching tyres when the rally was in one’s town. Young African boys called every Sikh ‘Joginda Singha’ while equally well known drivers like Jamil Din and Shekhar Mehta received loud applause when the African supporters read their Uganda number plates on their cars. I am sure many a young lad sat in their roadside wreck (resulting from accidents and rejected vehicles and old cars awaiting repairs for decades) and drove them in their imagination at reckless speeds. Imagine the joy in those young minds when they were flying in their imaginary Datsuns and Peugeots.

The best car in the African mind was the Japanese Datsun, popularised by Joginder Singh and which became a top level brand that inexplicably disappeared. Perhaps the purchasing power of African markets did not count for much.  Were there any other reasons why the Datsuns appealed so much to the Africans?  Had Japanese reliability scored highly over loyalty to the British.

Those were the days … during the wet Easter holidays when the Safari Rally, then considered the toughest in the world and probably the richest and best managed with a route that went through three EA countries.  No one came to know about any behind-the-scenes wrangling, if indeed there was any, but the Safari was able to show how Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania could work effectively to run a major internationally respected event. ‘Ah but, the management was in the hands of the muzungus,’ I can almost hear someone say. It does not matter whether the white man was managing the event itself; no safari could have taken place if the three countries had not committed themselves to a policy of cooperation to host this celebrated event. The political will which made the Safari possible was exemplary. The fact that border crossings and movements of teams was allowed on trust was truly amazing.

There were also those famous rivalries; between motor car manufacturers who were producing  vehicles thousands of miles away for major markets but saw the Safari as a viable proving ground for their new models. They also tested their future models. The safari tested the technology which was expected to dominate their marketing campaigns in Europe, Japan and the Americas as they fought for consumer and corporate budgets. The other rivalry, which had dangerous overtones, was between well known drivers, some of whom were important enough to be able to switch cars and sponsors at their own choosing, or so they led you to believe. So if you were a Bert Shankland or a Joginder Singh, you could negotiate terms with manufacturers. But you had to win it at least once. The European drivers such as Erickson and Moss also came with high expectations and were determined to beat the locals. One of the best outcomes for the East African Asians was that relatively unknown local drivers, in early parts of their careers, were able to take part in a major international rally and enjoy some success. There were also good indications of emerging African drivers and crews who were staking their own claims as serious players. It is sad that the development of local talent was cut short as a great local sporting event came to a virtual stop. This is by no means to belittle the rally which still takes place in Kenya and feedback from readers is most welcome- especially with regards to the issues that I discuss here.

Sadly, I lost the personal and close contact with the Safari Rally after 1972. One also heard of reports that the international spread of the rally was being curtailed as collaboration between the East African countries started to break down. In fact, the Safari was a minor casualty in comparison with the breakdown of major collaborative arrangements which existed under the East African Community or economic union. The need for collaboration to run railways, airlines and heavy industry to reap economies of scale was the logical thing to do but trust had broken down during the Idi Amin era.

Returning to the social and economic impact of the Safari in the early days, the nostalgia is still gripping. The daily lives of people were dictated by arrival and departure times of the rally, not only in their own towns but also major regional towns. Media coverage was good enough with the radio being the dominant source of update.  The newspapers provided excellent daily reports. Television started to cover the event during the late ‘60s. The rivalries between manufacturers was not analysed in the media competition between countries was immense. The British Ford and Triumph models competed fiercely with German cars, primarily Mercedes and Volkswagen. France was a strong contender with Peugeot making a strong impact on the market; a fact which translated into sales of hundreds of taxis. The luxury car market was dominated by Mercedes and one or two years the ‘Benzi’ did rather well. Of course, the entire competitive position greatly changed as the Japanese made progress in challenging European domination. In some years there were other new entrants with novelty interest. The most memorable were the ‘Comets’ from America, which tried to challenge the dominating players. However, they were not successful and soon bowed out. These were the cases where the experienced drivers risked their chances of winning the Safari Rally but they made sure that they won enough money from eager sponsors and manufacturers before the Rally even left the starting ramp.

The logistics that supported each team were phenomenal. I had the chance to look into one team and found the management of the support teams very professional and exciting. I still have memories of team captains huddling over their radios to keep in touch with navigators in each of their cars. Team captains and their crews were so persistent and patient – an excellent lesson in practical management.

Some of the key questions which were never addressed were:

• What did the major manufacturers achieve in terms of boosting the international marketing of their vehicles? There were major markets in West and Southern Africa. Competition in European markets must have been very significant. Interest in South American and Far Eastern markets must also have been extensive. However, it appears that there was no publicly available analysis of marketing campaigns and their commercial success that could be attributed to the Safari. Most of the dedicated analysis was high level and confidential marketing data. It just happened that when I later worked for Ford Motor Company in their head office in the UK, I saw some exciting pictures of the Safari. But the company was by no means gripped by the Safari and it appeared that Ford was more interested in translating the success of their rally cars to capture a greater share of the African market. The margin of comfort which came with colonial rule soon disappeared- African governments and local authorities made their own procurement decisions and buying British was no longer guaranteed.

 

• What was the economic benefit of the rally for the East African host countries? How much ‘new money’ did the rally bring into the African economies every year? How did the usual beneficiaries of popular sporting events the hotel and tourism markets share the greater spend during the upsurge of visitors during the Easter vacations? Media interest was very significant with newspaper advertising showing a significant increase during and after the event. It will be never known how the economic impact of the Safari would have translated into real jobs in the East African countries but it does appear that potential benefits of the Safari Rally as a major business and economic catalyst were not maximised by the participating countries and the respective tourism industries. However, any information which contradicts this view is eagerly awaited.

 

• Was the rally really ‘owned’ by East African countries? Or, was it just a play ground for the rich Europeans? There are two ways of looking at this. Did the rally organisers and sponsors invest time and effort in building relationships with governments?  On the other hand, did the governments and local authorities make special efforts to support the rally and encourage it to develop stronger roots in their respective territories? Again, not much is known but any anecdotal feedback from readers would be most interesting. A couple of years ago I managed a support team for a London based local authority when the Tour de France international cycle race first came to London. It took several weeks of planning and coordination to support the Tour de France riders who passed through the borough for less than ten minutes… but it drew thousands of spectators. Road closures were pre-planned and details were announced much in advance to help residents and businesses to workout alternative routes for essential travel. Densely populated and busy inner city areas demanded meticulous planning. How were ambulances going to rush patients to hospital when certain key roads were closed? What was the impact on fire and social services? Some roads were closed from 6am onwards but the Tour passed through our region on a Saturday leaving no concerns about how children were going to get to school.

Returning to current Rally that has replaced the Safari, some of the above planning issues also apply. The urban and semi-urban areas of Kenya have expanded and population has grown very fast. It is probably much more difficult to manage the logistics. But it is the management of relationships that will have become even more critical. Are Kenyans looking into the economic and tourism benefits of the rally? Does it cause a surge in their tourism revenues? Could the rally ever return to its previous glory as an East African landmark event? The most critical requirement is that the simplest one – ‘ordinary’ Africans must be engaged and take pride in the ownership of the rally. Communities and schools must also be involved. It would be good to know how the organisers of the rally are addressing some of the key points listed above. Is the new motor rally elitist just as the old Safari sometimes appeared to be?

There were reports about stone throwing and sabotage of rally cars in the 60s and the 70s. It also seemed that Safari cars that were passing through rural areas were met with dangerous hazards- items placed on the roadways by children or thieves. Apart from the odd ‘naughty’ children throwing stones for a bit of fun, was there any evidence that grownups also had serious problems with the Safari cars passing through their quiet neighbourhoods at great speeds?  Where there were any serious tensions, were they an indication of poor people resisting the fun and games of the rich?

These are possibly some of the challenges which cannot be taken lightly but the fact that the Rally continues to attract international interest and media coverage deserves credit and international support for the rally. Will the ‘wahindi ya kwanza’ that is, yesterday’s East African Asians begin to see the new rally as a bridge to nostalgia and make a return to supporting a premier sporting event in East Africa? There is a huge network of business and social importance waiting to be developed. East African Asians who left the three countries from the late 1960’s and onwards have growing and disposable savings. How are they going to be ‘lured’ back to Kenya for the Easter vacations? The rally must be seen as a bridge but not only to nostalgia but also to help secure new ties and relationships which will benefit the newer communities in Kenya. Any proposals on how this can be achieved are most welcome.

Commercial confidentiality will still preclude the availability of data as far as the marketing benefit of motor rallying is concerned.  However, it does appear that European media coverage of the new rally has been declining, judging from lack of access to information. However, there are more significant challenges to consider. Has the rally been attracting credible African drivers with generous sponsorship?

Has the rally entered the classroom? What could be more interesting for learning maths and statistics for secondary school students than monitoring and tracking performance of drivers, teams and manufacturers? Have the universities seen the value of business case studies based on the rally? Has the rally become a charity fundraiser where the less visible beneficiaries could benefit from sponsorship?

Some of the members of the Sikh Community in Nairobi worked tirelessly to ensure that the Guru Nanak Motor Rally passed all proficiency and competence requirements to win the rating of a world class event. Has this been maintained? Other regional motor rallies also had potential. Taking all these issues together, it is clear that international media, especially television has a major role in helping to revive international interest. However, the onus is on sponsors, promoters and organisers to ensure that the media, which is always hungry for good stories, is able to connect effectively with the East African motor rallies.

The success of the Indian Premier League cricket and English Football shows that core ideas must be protected and developed. The momentum of motor rallying in East Africa is worth continuing – it could produce internationally recognised and world class events once again and generate economic, social and educational benefits.

The Wahindi can play a major role in supporting this ambition. Would they want to return to East Africa every year to make a contribution?  Asian supporters of English FA football are already travelling with their clubs. There is something in the Safari for everyone. Why? While East African countries appear to have made major efforts to diversify their economies, the reliance on exports is still pervasive. The tourism industries have been successful in attracting tourists to the old and sometimes newer attractions. East Africa needs a new and powerful event which must also appeal to and be connected to the economies of the western producing countries. The cost of reviving the Safari needs to be worked out but once the re-launch has been successfully delivered, the cost of expansion could be funded from profits. There is a need for a dialogue between the current rally organisations, the three governments and potential sponsors. A feasibility study would be ideal and a fund of £25,000 would be sufficient depending on the terms of reference of the study. All we need is for 25 Asian businesses in the UK, US and Canada to donate £1000 each and nominate their chief executives to form a working group to plan the feasibility programme and to appoint local consultants. I am not going to be too upset if just one sponsor agrees to fund the lot.

Please send your comments to kalwant.ajimal@btinternet.com

How You Could Have Entered The Books of Records

 

Yahoo News reports that an Indian woman hopes to enter the record books by munching 51 fiery chillies in two minutes.  Anandita Dutta Tamuly, 26, chewed her way through the chillies before an audience late Thursday in India’s northeast.

For details see: http://uk.news.yahoo.com/18/20090410/tod-indian-woman-aims-for-chilli-record-451ab4f.html

She consumed the chillies in the company of British celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay, who was producing a television show on food and anchoring the event in Jorhat, 300 kilometers (180 miles) east of Assam’s main city of Guwahati. “In two minutes, Anandita gobbled 51 red-hot chillies without batting an eyelid or shedding a tear, and also smeared seeds of 25 chillies into her eyes in one minute,” Atul Lahkar, a chef who organised the show, told AFP. The chillies are known locally as bhut jolokia and are a staple of local diet in Assam. They are recognised by Guinness World Records as the world’s hottest chilli pepper.

It is well known that Indians like to enter the record books by making a name for themselves by doing the oddest things. In addition to the Guinness Book of Records, India has its own Limca Book of Records. Both feature many Indian feats covering many crazy but interesting aspects of life. Why do they do it?

These feats, achievements or successful records are all attributable to the following common denominators, which are fame, recognition and money. It is unlikely that the books of records will pay much to publish the achievements. The real incentive is money in the future via sponsorship, appearances on stage and fees for appearing on television and payment for appearing at private functions. Many successful ‘performers’ have done very well indeed.

What type of achievements could the East African Asians get into the record books? Here are some thoughts which you could have helped to turn into reality:

·       A record for fighting the largest man-eating lion with one’s bare hands in the Tsavo area?

·       A record for sleeping with largest number of black mamba snakes in one’s bed?

·       A record for growing the largest cassava root in one’s shamba or smallholding?

·       A record for swimming with the largest number of crocodiles in Lake Victoria?

·       A record for displaying largest number of yoga positions whilst travelling on the roof of the East African trains from Kampala to Mombasa?

·       Success in running faster than the speediest cheetah in the game park?

·       Achievement for drinking the highest number of pints of pombe, or beer?

·       Successes in driving in reverse from Kampala to Jinja with Idi Amin as a passenger?

 

 

 

 

A few responses- but not as you would like them!

 

My post on ‘Nyama Choma’ was critical of lifestyles of the wahindis in Kenya who seem to be caught up in a life of ‘aish-o-ishrat’ or indulgence.  Now, it was not a criticism of young Sikhs only. But they do tend to have the ‘resources’ to make the daily evening barbeque a possibility. Here are the ingredients. Start by developing an interest in spicy food and alcohol. Add the bucketful of friendships and fellowships they have forged over a lifetime. Mix the two generously with good humour and freedom to speak their minds when the women are not within earshot. Bring the party to a boil everyday and you have the ultimate matata of your choice. The access to a workshop or a personally owned building (because many Sikhs run building and technical trades) creates the right environment to serve the nyama choma without incurring the wrath of the wife or neighbours and also make the task of cleaning up much easier as the workshop staff look after those boring details.

Are young Sikhs more hedonistic than the Gujarati or Muslim youngsters? I am afraid I do not have answers or the evidence to be able to sustain that assertion or to deny it. Occupational choice or decisions to work in certain types of business are probably no longer dictated by family histories or inheritance. In the past, the most of the young Sikh entrepreneurs ran building related contracting firms which were started by their fathers. The new generation brought more insights and confidence to the business; they were more organised and in some cases better qualified than their fathers. Business was invariably male dominated unless the enterprise belonged to Gujarati or Ismaili families where women could also be involved.  

The next point which attracted significant comment was that the highly hedonistic lifestyles, with their incumbent challenges to health and welfare are no longer the preserve of the Sikhs. This impression was not intended. Yes, non-Sikh men, largely Gujarati and Hindu Panjabi, may also be indulging in similar spicy barbeques and other pursuits and successfully harming themselves on a daily basis. Isn’t that great? No. Why? Because sharing a habit of persistent substance abuse with other communities does not make it right.  Then why does the young Asian go through the celebratory ritual of nyama choma or other forms of male dominated hedonism on a daily basis, as I have seen and reported recently? The answer lies in culture and sociology to a great extent.

One can only ask challenging questions. The answers tend to vary. There is no ‘one solution fits all’ cases.  Some of the men are possibly very lonely and do not have close friendships with their spouses. Arranged marriages and differences in religious practice may have impact on relationships. Other men may be bored by the discipline and conformity expected at home. Most wives will not support large number of friends of their husbands to ‘storm’ the house regularly and make demands for large quantities of food. The presence of noisy men may also send wrong signals to children. So the best solution is to have the ‘time of their lives’ as some see it by hiding in the firm or workshop. Finally, where the wife runs a strictly vegetarian and ‘kosher’ household and where ‘meat’ is not allowed to be consumed in the family home, the men may be ‘driven’ to find other venues.  Let us also not forget that where there are ‘grown up’ daughters in the home, the intrusion of strange men cannot be a source of comfort to a protective housewife. All these explanations may be relevant but other factors may also prevail.

It’s the end result; the impact on family life and health of the nyama choma men that needs to be addressed. As good old Mukesh, the popular Bollywood playback singer used to say, “Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Isai; sabh ko mera salaam”. This was translated in the original context as ‘I salute the Hindu, Muslim, Sikh and Christian as equals.’  

 

 

‘Nyama Choma’ – Happy Days

There are real stories, based on reported facts which confirm unexpected outcomes from a life of leisure. Not really, the majority of Asians still work hard and earn their day’s worth. The focus of this ‘story’ is more on Nairobi but also centres mainly on the Sikh community according to reliable reports.

Young Sikhs, of which I used to be one, tend to love their nyama choma of barbequed meat with lots of ‘daru’ or drink, mainly alcohol to help wash down the food.  Poor men; how could they be forcibly stuck with such hardship?  Not really. Which comes first; the drink or the drumstick?  Ahem. If you answer this one well, I will buy you … er.. a drink. And yes, another myth has also been shattered. There used to be a time when the Singha Singha used to rejoice the fact the Gujaratis were ‘weaklings’ who were too loyal to their religious beliefs and did not how to get a life. They were the ‘choroko’ eaters who calmly ate their daal (lentils) and drank their ‘phanta’.  Yes, the Sikhs knew how to enjoy life. Reports indicate that the Gujaratis started eating and drinking big time in the 80s. They discarded their life of ‘grass eating’ and went for the drumstick and in the process became ‘real’ men. Lo and behold, Gujarati women also enjoy the same poisons with equal measure. Who can complain about lack of equality?

The concerns reflect a life of indulgence, for many young men and others wanting to pass as ‘young’, there is a great life of enjoyment which ‘you can never get in the UK, you know’. They can have their barbeques every day of the week. You work hard in the office, factory, construction firm or technical services firm during the day, put in a huge amount of work and when the time comes to go home, the barbeque beckons. The wife and children who may be waiting at home can wait a little longer “A couple of quick drinks and a bite of chicken thigh and I will be home’. The wife can be easily pacified. Just as these thoughts begin to crystallise, the car automatically drives the young man to the garage or workshop where the nyama choma usually takes place. However, today it could be a sports club or a community space and since all communities enjoy the same food and drink, the Sikhs have more choice.

It goes without saying that everyone has their own ‘safe’ limits and ‘you cannot generalise, bhaji (big brother’, says my informant. And so the nyama choma seems to take over their life and regular drinking has started to impact on their health. There are reports of escalating liver disease, alcoholism, shaky hands, memory loss, impotence and diabetes, all depending on the margin by which the Sikh has beaten the Gujarati or how the latter can now proudly say that they can out-drink the Singha Singha. No one can dominate their lives anymore but the silent dominance of drink and indulgence appears to be breaking up families…. with occasional reports of wife beating. You also see the odd man with a black eye, where the wife has the power to retaliate or where she has been drinking with her own girlfriends during the afternoon.

Humour aside, this is a serious situation. Young men and women of all backgrounds need to curb their daily drinking in the workshop and the eating spicy barbequed food. The stomach that they are harming may be their own.  People also suggest that the life of indulgence is affecting the men’s motivation to work and others are no longer interested in emigrating. ‘You cannot have such a great life in the UK, you know’.