by Dohra Ahmad
I reflected on my life in the U.S.A. There, when prejudice is felt, it is open, obvious, blatant; the white man makes his position very clear, and the black man fights those prejudices with equal openness and fervor, using every constitutional device available to him. The rest of the world in general and Britain in particular are prone to point an angrily critical finger at American intolerance, forgetting that in its short history as a nation it has granted to its Negro citizens more opportunities for advancement and betterment, per capita, than any other nation in the world with an indigenous Negro population. Each violent episode, though greatly to be deplored, has invariably preceded some change, some improvement in the American Negro’s position. The things they have wanted were important enough for them to fight and die for, and those who died did not give their lives in vain. Furthermore, American Negroes have been generally established in communities in which their abilities as laborer, artisan, doctor, lawyer, scientist, educator and entertainer have been directly or indirectly of benefit to that community; in terms of social and religious intercourse they have been largely independent of white people.
In Britain I found things to be very different. I have yet to meet a single English person who has actually admitted to anti-Negro prejudice; it is even generally believed that no such thing exists here. A Negro is free to board any bus or train and sit anywhere, provided he has paid the appropriate fare; the fact that many people might pointedly avoid sitting near him is casually overlooked. He is free to seek accommodation in any licensed hotel or boarding house—the courteous refusal which frequently follows is never ascribed to prejudice. The betrayal I now felt was greater because it had been perpetrated with the greatest of charm and courtesy.
I realized at that moment that I was British, but evidently not a Briton, and that fine differentiation was now very important; I would need to re-examine myself and my whole future in terms of this new appraisal.
SAM SELVON
COME BACK TO GRENADA
Every time when winter come round, George so cold that he have to give up trying to get warm, and he used to sit down by the gas fire in the basement room he had in Bayswater, and think back ’bout them days in Grenada before the war.
Is so it was with him every winter—when the cold hit him so, he long to go back home, but in the summer, when all them white girls have on pretty clothes and coasting in the park, you mad to tell him then ’bout going back home, he want to kill you, he would say that you talking damn foolishness, that Brit’n is he country, and that he never going back to no small island life.
Well sometimes some of the boys used to drop round to have an old talk, especially on a Sunday morning, because George working night in a factory where they making things to clean pot and pan, and any other time but on a Sunday morning he does be sleeping sound, and if anybody mad enough to come and see him during the week, he play as if he didn’t hear the bell when they ring it. If they ask him ’bout it afterwards, he say, ‘Man, the bell not working properly, I tell the damn landlord ’bout it, but up to now he ain’t fix it.’
Well Sunday morning is big old talk, George still lying down in bed under the blankets, and the boys making themself at home, some on the ground, some sitting down on the edge of the bed, some standing up. The fellars used to mop George coffee and bread good, so George begin to get up early and make breakfast and put away everything before they come, because some of them real hard, if even they ain’t hungry they storing away something for when they go back outside.
So it turn out like a joke—the boys saying, ‘But a-a, George, you living bad, man. No bread? No coffee?’
And George warm under the blankets and he belly full up with food, would laugh kiff-kiff as if is a joke in truth, and say, ‘No man, I didn’t have time to buy my rations yesterday.’
As for the gas fire, when old talk going hot and the gas burning low, George used to sit up and reach for he trousers from off the chair where they hanging and fumble in the pocket and say, ‘I did forget to get some shillings for the meter. Any of you-all have a shilling?’
Then all the boys would begin to put they hand in they pocket and look all about, saying, no, they sorry man, but they ain’t have a shilling, they only have two-shilling and sixty-cent piece, what ain’t no use as the slot in the meter could only hold shilling. But in the end one of them does always have to shell up one, because George laying down there and he wouldn’t budge until one of them find a shilling somewhere: ‘Aps! Look I have one, it was right down in the corner of my pocket, I didn’t feel it the first time.’
And the old talk does always be about home in the West Indies, in Trinidad and Jamaica and Barbados and Grenada, what they used to do, how they used to catch cascadoo in the river with pin and twine, and fly mad bull and play zwill, and pitch marble with byayr and buicken and buttards one, and talaline farts, and how rum so cheap back home, but over here everybody only drinking tea and ale. The old talk coming and going, they talking about all kind of thing, but in the end is always about home in the West Indies, how life was so good. But even though they saying that none of them making the suggestion to go back, as if they shame to say they miss home though they talking about good calaloo and pound plantain lunch on a Sunday, or a breadfruit roast with saltfish, and how down there the sun does be shining all the time.
Is some real characters does come round by George. You might think that when they come England they go change a little bit when they mix up with the English people and them, but is just as if they in a backyard in George Street in Port of Spain, all kind of common laugh and bacchanal talk going on brisk. They does treat Piccadilly Circus like Green Corner, and walked down Oxford Street is if they breezing down Frederick Street, and if they meet you in the road or in a bus or in the tube, is a big shout, ‘What happening there, papa?’
And as for how they dress, nobody does mind your business in this London, so the boys cool, no fuss, all kind of second hand jacket and mildew overcoat and old hat with the brim turn up.
It had a fellar name Fatman. Well nobody know how he living, he is a man of mystery, because he ain’t have no work, and the way he does get on, the small raise from the National Assistance is not the cause. One day the boys surprise to see Fatman driving motor car. ‘Which part you get that, old man?’ they ask him.
‘I pick it up cheap down by Kensal Rise, man,’ he answer them.
Well the second day Fatman get this car he meet up in an accident with a bus and he had to go to court. He come round by George mourning, with a lot of forms he had to full up. Fatman always confuse when he have forms to full up, and in this country you have bags of that to do. He and he wife always arguing, is not that way, no, you put the date in the wrong place, man, why you so stupid, you can’t see where it say date of birth in the next line? So Fatman take up the forms and go round by George to full them up.
Then it have another fellar name Gogee, who from Trinidad. Gogee is really a nice fellar, but he like to get on ignorant sometimes. It have a thing with he and another Trinidadian fellar name Scottie what does always make George laugh for so. Scottie is a fellar with a little education, and he well like the English customs and thing, he does be polite and say thanks and he does get up in the bus and the tube to let them women sit down, which is a thing even them Englishmen don’t do. And when he dress, you think is some Englishman going to work in the city, with bowler hat and umbrella and brief case. Only thing Scottie face black.
Well Scottie used to organise little fêtes here and there, like dance and party and so on. And everytime he worried if Gogee would turn up, because Gogee like to play rab and make Scottie feel small, though it does only be fun he making. Like one time, Scottie standing up near the door of the dancehall, dressup in black suit and bow tie, saying good evening and how do you do to all the people that coming to the dance. Well you could imagine Gogee bursting through the door in a hot jitterbug suit and bawling out, ‘Scottie, you old reprobat
e! What happening?’
Naturally Scottie feel bad that in front of all these English people Gogee getting on so. ‘Listen man,’ he plead with Gogee, ‘Why don’t you behave and comport yourself properly in front of people and stop behaving like a ruffian?’
That put Gogee in a real worthless mood, and the more Scottie try to be gentleman, the more Gogee getting on like if he back in Trinidad, and he meet up with a good friend unexpected at a freeness.
‘But how Scottie man, you looking prosperous, things going good with you. I hear you did make bags of money out of that fête you had by King’s Cross last Saturday night. You think you will make a lot tonight? You got a good band playing tonight?’
And with that Gogee push past Scottie and barge into the dancehall, ignoring the fellar that collecting tickets as if is he self what giving the dance.
And during the fête, whenever Gogee catch Scottie watching him out of the corner of he eye, he starting to jock waist for so, and fanning with he jacket, and jumping up as if he at a Carnival slackness in the Queen’s Park Building, only to make Scottie get vex.
Scottie shaking he head and saying he don’t know why the boys don’t behave like gentlemen for a change, that the English people would say how they don’t know how to get on civilise. But Gogee and the boys high, they having a royal time, they only getting the band to play calypso and they dancing left and right.
Whenever Scottie have a fête, he too frighten that the boys rob and cause fight and disgrace, but it never have anything serious, except the time when a Jamaican fellar bust a coca-cola bottle on Fatman head because Fatman did dancing too close with he girl.
Poor Scottie, he not a bad sort of fellar really, but the boys like to pick on him so much, because they feel he playing stuckup and talking like Englishman. And now from the time Scottie see them coming through the door at any fête he giving, he know they not going to pay, and he does tell them to pass in quick and don’t stand up and jam the door. It get so that all them West Indian hear how Scottie is a gentleman, and you should know that none of them ever pay at any of Scottie fête.
Then again, the boys might start to give Frederick picong when Scottie beg them to ease up. If Fatman is man of mystery, well Frederick is mystery father, because he is one Jamaican that you could never contact at all, he don’t stay in one place for long. It must be ain’t have nobody who know this London like he, it ain’t have a part that he ain’t live in already, and why you think? Because he don’t pay rent no place where he got to live. Is test like him who muddy the water for a lot of other fellars. When Frederick get a place what taking coloured people, he tell the landlord that he is student, and that he does get money from home every two weeks. And he move in with everything, including an old banjo that he does play when he walking in the road, or standing up in a queue. Then when the Saturday come and the landlord come round to collect the rent, no mister Frederick there at all, he out off long time, in the night when it dark and nobody could see.
Next time you hear ’bout Frederick, is because he gone the other side of London to live. One day you hear he living Notting Hill Gate, the next day you hear he move and gone Clapham, a week after that you might bounce him up in Highgate. So he moving from landlord to landlord, owing them one two three weeks rent. Is a good thing London such a big place—by the time Frederick go round by all the places, he go be an old man and still doing the same thing, and still he would have plenty new places to go.
And the truth is, he really start up like a student, but he get in a mooch with an English girl, and since that time he forget all about studying and he start to hustle.
Well all these episodes coming up in the old talk in George room. Until if George get in a good mood, he might get up and make some tea for the boys, and take a bread and some butter out of the cupboard.
They always giving George tone about going back to the West Indies, because George leave an old grandmother back home and she always writing and saying why you don’t come back to Grenada, and telling him she would dead soon, that he better come quick. And he have a girlfriend too that he leave behind, the poor girl writing nearly every week, darling dou-dou why you don’t come back Grenada and let we married?
But is as if London get in George blood, all the big building, all the big light and the big celebration, the trains that does go under the ground, and how nobody minding you business like in a small island. He used to stand up by the Circus and watch all them big advertising light going on and going off, like if is Carnival all the time, and people moving all about in the big life in London, all kind of Rolls-Royce in the road, and them rich people going theatre and ballet. One time Scottie did even encourage him to go to the Royal Albert Hall to hear a fellar play violin, and George put on a clean suit and he went and sit down, but when it was halfway he tell Scottie to come and go.
So even though it have times when things hard with him, still he feel as if he can’t leave London at all. In the winter, when snow come and it so cold that he have to wear two three pullover even when he sleeping, he does get a feeling to leave, because life hard in the winter, not even a shilling to put in the gas. Them times, he does think a lot ’bout Grenada, how down there the sun shining all the time, you could bathe in the sea everyday. Here it so cold that George does only bathe ’bout once a month, and not only because the weather grim, but it have so much confusion when you want to bathe, you have to clean out this big basin thing that just like a coffin, then you have to put money in the gas to get hot water, and let the water full up in the basin. You does have to sit down in it. You know how sometimes them people in the country back home bathing the children, putting them in a bucket of water? Well is just like that. Well, he have enough money save up, so when is winter the thought does come to him.
But after when the winter gone and birds sing and all the trees begin to put on leaves again, and flowers come and now and then the old sun shining, George would say he go stay until after the summer.
Every year is the same story, that’s why he still in this country. In the beginning George used to shape up by the National Assistance people every week, but since he get this nightwork he working steady. Them English people think the boys lazy and goodfornothing and always on the dole, but George know is only because the white people don’t want to give them work.
One time when he did new in England George get a work in a factory, and all the people in the place say they go strike unless the boss fire George. It was a big ballad in all the papers, they put it under a big headline, saying how the colour bar was causing trouble again, and a fellar come with a camera and wanted to take George photo, but George say no. Anyway a few days after that the boss call George and tell him that he worry, but as they cutting down the staff he would have to go. He put it in a real diplomatic way, so as not to make George feel bad, but he did well know is only because they didn’t want him in the place.
So it not really as easy for the boys as some people think. True, it have some of them what only want to ants on the government, and don’t do no work, only playing billiards and rummy all the time, but the majority of the boys willing to work if they could hustle a job somewhere.
Them was grim days when George wasn’t working. He had to hustle all about, and sometimes nothing but a cup of weak tea to face the cold. He see real hell to get a place to live, all about landlords and landladies saying that they sorry, the rooms full up, but in truth is because they don’t like black people.
Sometimes when George did walking down the road minding he own business, some little white child bawl out, ‘Mummy, look at that black man!’ And poor George don’t know what to do. The child mother scold it and say, ‘You mustn’t say that, dear.’
But thing like that happen so much time that George skin come like rubber, and he bounce like a ball from house to house until he feel like if the vengeance of Moco on him. Then he get the basement room in Bayswater. Is a Pole who own the hous
e, too besides, that’s why he get the room.
Right after that he start up the nightwork and things brighten up a little bit. He eating regular meals and now and then he going to the tailor in Charing Cross Road and getting fit for a sharp suit, because now he have money is no more readymade or secondhand for him.
Every Saturday morning, he does go by a continental shop which part have a lot of food to see, like what he accustom to, like red beans and blackeye peas and rice and saltfish. It even have dasheen and green fig sometimes. It have a lot of spades does go in that shop to buy, bags of them, and is joke to see how they does get on just as if they in a Chinaman shop back home. Couple Jamaica woman does stand up and talk while they waiting for message, ‘But girl, if I tell you! She did lose the baby, yes . . . halfpound saltfish, please, the dry codfish. Yes, as I was telling you. . . . and two pound rice, and halfpound red beans, no, not that one, that one in the bag in the corner . . .’
This time so, they ain’t bothering they head about the other people in the queue at all, they mauvalanging and bursting out in some loud kya-kya laugh like them macoumere in the market in George Street back home.
And George can’t help thinking how things change a lot since he first come England, how now it have so many spades that you bouncing up with one every corner you turn. All them ships that coming bringing more and more, and all the newspapers writing about how these West Indians coming and like nothing could stop them, and how the Government best hads do something or else plenty trouble would cause in London.
And again long time thing like saltfish hard like gold to get. George had was to go in a small shop in Soho what was the only place in London you could get that, but now it have ’bout ten shop with it, because the English shopkeepers like they know the spades like they little fish.
Another thing is, George don’t know how so many people know him, but every time a shipload of fellars land up in Paddington from the boat train, plenty of them coming round by George, saying that so and so did tell them that George would help them out when they reach in London. He come like godfather, he don’t know how to refuse them, all these fellars coming and putting they worries on he shoulders, how they can’t find a work, how it so cold, how place hard to get. Well George do what he could to ease the situation for them—he get about four work for some Jamaican in the factory where he is, and in the evening when he get time off, if he in a good mood he go round with them now and then to look for place to live, because by this time George know all them landlord and landlady who don’t want no black people in they house.