YOU invited mum and I to come over.
“Plenty of jobs”. ” The Queen invites you, as part of the British Empire to come and work in the motherland”
That’s what he said, that kind Mr Powell, a minister of the British Empire. Teeth white, broad smile, defined commanding voice.
19 days over sea and under rain, from the sun to Tillbury Docks.
This cold place, grey everywhere, smiles becoming frowns, smiles becoming disdain at my 11 year old skin.
Mum tells me to be strong. “It's ok, just work hard and don’t forget who you are”...
My college scores are high. A talent for sciences, Excellence in Physics and Math
I try for my first job, my second and third.
Televisions and radio is where I want to be.
A decade has passed, my son growing tall, mum has returned home.
A few years more, history repeats, so I tell my boy
“Its ok, just work hard and don’t forget who you are”
It gets better, you’ll see.
He grows strong, able and tall. Mum and dad now gone.
Its better, progress is never easy or fast. But together we are one.
today we can eat chicken and rice.
40 years on, encased in Canadian Copper and 6 feet of heavy clay soil. Some chap, teeth white, broad jaw, strong defining tone, knocks on my lid, my final resting place. He wants to see my papers, proof i’m legal or he’ll send me back to that place he calls my home.