Gita: My name is Gita, I am fourteen years of age, it is the summer of 1976, I�m a third generation Muslim living in this country England.
My grandfather came here first when he was young, he worked in a steel foundry, that�s a place that makes steel if you didn�t know. The hours that they worked were long and hard; up to twelve hours per day, seven days a week. The foundry did not even allow them time for Friday prayer!
Work was so, so dangerous and the dirt, the grime, the heat and the smell he says was unbelievable. Now in his old age he suffers with his lungs from the effects of the fumes. My grandfather and many others like him, were told before they left India that if they came and worked hard here in Great Britain that they would be wealthy men, all of them; but the authorities would only pay the passage for the men from India to England, not their wives or children.
The house that my Grandfather lived in when he first arrived in he shared with many other men. Most of them came from his and the surrounding villages where he came in India, some of them he was related. They may have been distant relations, but they were relations. It took my Grandfather three years whole years, three whole years! Three hole years of saving money from his wages, so that he could bring my grandmother and their two sons to be with him, one of the two sons been my father.
After giving his family readings from the glorious Qur�an on a Friday afternoon when he had come back from Friday Prayers, many times Grandfather would tells us how they he and the others, not once did they see day light on his journey over here on the boat, as all the immigrant workers were kept down in the ships hold. Jobs that they were available to them was the work that local people didn�t wish to do. What I found hard to believe and was shocked with really, was that the white people who were doing the same job as them where paid more money!
Until my two other brothers were born my parents lived with my Grandparents, who now had seven children, at that time were renting a house near to where my grandfather used to live, when he first came over here. There was no running water in Grandparents house the toilets were outside, not much fun in the winter! When you wanted a bath they had to put a tin tub in-front of the fire, fill it with hot water then they would take it in turn to have a bath. Once a week! Three of them had to share a bed or should I say a mattress on the floor, that�s six in a bedroom! I don�t remember much of that as we left there when I was a toddler back then.
As my parents had more children my mother and father moved out of my grandparents house and rented a large house nearby, which is where we live in now. (Silence).
Its strange, the other day I was walking down the street. The sound of people, people what I know and they know me. As they talked to each other in Urdu, with smiles upon their happy faces, only the sound of their joyful voices only broken by the sound of the same Asian music playing on the radio emanating from several of the houses which had their windows open. As I went deeper into the street, the sound of the radio was coming from nearly every house on the street. Washing was strung across the street to dry, blowing in the wind, there was an atmosphere of calm and tranquillity. As I approached my house which was at the end of the street, next door to Mr Rashid�s the butchers shop which is on the corner. (Beat.) Yes the unmistakable sound of metal hitting bone as Mr Rashid chopped the halal meat from the bone. It has never bothered me living next door to the butchers shop actually it was good because through the week all the Muslims in the area buy their meat from him. So you see my friends come to visit me when their mothers send them on an errand to the butcher. To me this was a feeling of calm, of peace. This is my Islam.
There is a plague of ladybirds, you know the things that are red with black spots! The other day my friend Umza and I sat on the grass in the park near to our houses. Our hands supporting us behind our backs, as we sat and talked about what we were going to do when we were older. When we felt at both same time, a tickling sensation on our hands. We looked around at our hands and they were red, covered with the lady birds! (Beat.) It was so hot, oh so hot, but yet we had to stay covered, not like the white girls, who wear next to nothing!
The news programmes tell us that there are race riots in the inner cities of the major cities in the major cities. Walking home from school the other evening, I turned to go into my street, the street where my family lived, as I had done so many times before. There were no people talking in the street, no washing hanging from the line to dry, no smiling faces and no Asian music playing from the radio�s. All this was replaced by a gang of white youths
numbering thirty to forty at the bottom of the street.
They wore denim clothes, their trousers were above the ankle showing their oxen red boots and had their heads shaved and tattoo�s upon their necks Shouting and chanting �Paki�s go home! We are the National Front, we are the National Front. Paki�s go home, Paki�s go home!� As they hurdled their abuse they threw their bricks at my friends families houses. Clearly could I hear cries for help from within the houses.
This is a war zone. A war zone! As I tried to gain courage to get near to the house where I lived with my brothers and sisters and my mother and father where. There was a thundering crash then a flash, followed by flames. Glass showered into the street. Flames followed the mob as they ran. What I later learnt it was a fire bomb which was thrown into Mr Rashid�s butchers shop!
Turning back up the street I ran and I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, not really knowing where I was going. Constantly hearing the sound of Police sirens and seeing the blue lights from their as I ran.
As I got to the end of the street there were Police cars and vans were everywhere surrounded by the Police in a line two maybe three deep, holding their shields and wearing riot gear. They were banging on the shields with their sticks, at the same time they were shouting, although I don�t know what. Two policemen not dressed in riot gear stood talking, one tried to stop me as I ran, I struggled, I remember the other Policeman laughed. As I struggled, he could not hold me. Then I was free of him.. I ran and I ran as fast as my legs would let me. My heart pounding was and pounding, in rhythm of the Police banging their riot shields as they went down my street, my street. I ran until I couldn�t run anymore! Looking around I found that I was in the park. It was dark, there was no-one about, I was alone. I stopped and desperately I tried to get my breath back. Then it hit me, what has become of my family, my friends and all the people that I know and love.
Getting up right to my feet I turned and looked behind me, looking towards the area where I live. It is like something from a film set, an orange glow came from the silhouetted houses, with a plume of smoke laying above it. The sound of all different kinds of shouts where numbed, but yet I could hear them!
Sitting on a damp park bench for maybe an hour, or maybe two, I don�t know. I just sat there and watched. Looking into a puddle at my feet as I sat on the damp vandalised park bench, watching the reflection of the flames in the poodle of my burning neighbourhood.
(Beat.) Occasionally ripples would spread across the puddle making a strange distorting effect appear. My eyes became glued. Then something inside got a hold of me, automatically I started to walk, back towards my home.
The streets were filled with Police vans, Ambulances, fire engines were there now, the crews of which were very busy. As one Ambulance left another would arrive. The firemen, Oh praise Allah the firemen, they were putting out the fires of the many burning properties and burning cars, as what was left. Then mob were throwing missiles at the firemen!
I cannot express how much I was glad when that that night was over. (Silence.)
A few years ago the country was under going power cuts, due to the power workers who where on strike. Father understood why but I didn�t, all I knew it was annoying because I had to read by candle light, which hurt my eyes. My younger brother and sisters got bored easily, they couldn�t play and it was too dangerous for them to run around the house. They just sat there and annoyed each other, which in turn irritated the rest of us. It was whilst one of these power cuts that one of my brothers said �that more white people go to the pub rather than their churches. Praise Allah we Muslims are not like that!�. This made me think that maybe the pub is their meeting place like the Mosque is for us! Apparently up until a few years ago women weren�t allowed in a pub, which is like the Mosque has always been the case! It gives the men folk time to be alone and talk about world matters and business, without us women folk been about. (Silence.)
PART TWO
Now there are my two sisters and three brothers, plus of course my mother and father and myself, we are looking to move to a larger house hopefully nearer to the Mosque. Where we live at the moment there are a lot of other Muslim families like us, but we are surrounded by many kinds of other peoples, who�s families originate from Africa and the West Indies and especially the white people. You might think as they do that it strange that we Muslims have large families but so do the white people! It is has always been the done thing in India, life itself is centred around the family and that is what we have always known. Father says that the more children that you have, the more there are to look after you when you get old.
Often you see the white people when they are drunk, we Muslims do not drink alcohol, it is then that things can be bad with the abuse that they give. Like �Paki go home!�, and all the rest of their insults, I�m sure you have heard them before. (Beat.) I do not wish to hear them now thank you! At first I couldn�t understand what they meant by this I was born in this country and my father and grandfather came from India and not Pakistan, in-fact I don�t think either of them had even been to Pakistan! And I, I myself was born here in this country. But, but what ever had I done to them! I�ve never even spoken to them! (Pause.)
The Holy Qur�an teaches us as well as not to drink alcohol but not to. Obey our parents, to pray, to fast and not to gamble all of these the white people do. It does annoy me when there is a school disco for my parents will not allow me to go. They say that it will be of no good to me, which does annoy me when all the white children tell us about what a good time that they had had at the disco the night before.
My father together with his two brothers have several shops throughout the city and sometimes I think why do they bother, with the amount of abuse that they receive from the white customers. It did not take them long to work it out that if they wished to earn more the money to keep their families clothed and fed, they would have to open later than the white shopkeepers, then they would have more custom. This would mean that the rest of the family members would have to help out, which at first I didn�t mind doing.
At school my friends and I get called names by the other children, many times I have gone home and cried to my mother of the white children making fun of me and my friends, because of the way that we dress and talk.. My mother has told me to ask them if they can speak two languages like me and my friends! This is because at home we all also speak Urdu. The thing, the big thing that I do not understand is why I have to learn about the white peoples religions but they do not teach of mine? It is like there is one rule for them and one for us. (Pause.)
A lot of our friends families have moved into the area near the new Mosque. You can see the Mosque from my fathers new shop. They tell me that there are many shops which sell the food that we like and shops that sell nothing but our Shari�s and other clothes and jewellery that we Muslims wear. The Mosque use to be a Methodist Chapel, which is a lot different to when my grandparents first came here as the Community had very little money and took it in turns to have prayers in each others houses. An Imam has come from my fathers village and I hear that he is very good. He knows the older Community and us younger ones all know each other through school.
The other week I was thinking that if my parent�s would have married in India and all my friends parents, and had stayed there, my friends and I would all be in the same school in India but without the other white children! Now that would be good!
In the summer the Pakistan cricket team came over to Britain to play matches. At first we support the England, but when the Pakistan team began to win the �test� I think that�s what they call it, we Asians started to supported the Pakistan team. How this annoyed the white people young and old, it even got into the news papers, which said �Does what cricket team that you support decide your patriotism?� (Pause.)
My grandfather, father and three brothers go to prayer together on a Friday whilst we women of the family take prayer at house. The family is planning to take my grandparents on the hijra as they have never been able to afford it.
When I leave school I would like to go to University but my parents say that it would be for the best that they find me a husband and marry as soon as I leave school. Even living here because we are Asian Muslims who are descendents of our fathers, grandfathers and grandfathers fathers we are still in the Cast System. I must explain to you that the Cast system is unique to the Muslims who originate from Asia, other religions from that area use it such as the Sikhs and some Hindus. There are different grades of Cast which you are born into and cannot get out of what ever you do, and you can only marry within your Cast. It is the custom that a dowry is paid by the Groom�s family but it is more than this it is the uniting of two families and of course their businesses, I believe that some white people do or did similar things, but I would have to check on that.
Both my grandmother and mother were married by the time at they were the age that I am now! Their parents chose their husbands and they were perfectly happy! �Older people know what�s for the best!�. Well that�s what they say! Honestly I am unsure about this I would like to leave all that until later, when I�m older and choose someone who I would like to marry.
At first the other children at school thought us strange with been a different colour skin and wearing different kinds of clothes, but it has got a little better as time has gone bye. Once I cut myself on a piece of paper, all the white children in the class gathered around me, at first they were quiet until one said �Her blood, it�s red!�, then there was a silence until the teacher told them to go back to their seats.
My brothers wear western clothes which I don�t think is at all fair, but I�m told by my parents say that if I wore western clothes I wouldn�t find the right kind of Muslim husband. I suppose that they are correct, the Qur�an says that Muslim women should cover their heads and not show any skin down to their ankles. The clothes should not cling to the body so as to show any curves, modesty is the key word. So with that good Muslim man would not want to see a woman wearing short skirts and a low cut tops! The thing that does really annoy me is that my brothers are allowed to marry a western woman but if I wanted to marry a western man he would have to have be a Muslim in the Qu�ran, that�s what my father tells me.
PART THREE
It is the summer of 2002 the world has it problems. After my father died my elder brother became the head of the family and took care of the families affairs, such as the shops that businesses the different members of the family were running. My two other sisters had their husbands chosen for them, but they did have a right to say no if they wished to marry the husband that my parents had chosen. At school my examination results were excellent and I got my wish and went to University. It was whilst at University that I truly learnt about Islam as a global religion and was fascinated with its history, arts and sciences which I must add I still read about now all these years later, there are still things to be learnt. The reality been one doesn�t stop learning.
The old Methodist Chapel, which we used as a Mosque when I was a child is now a store which sells carpets. Now we have a purpose built Mosque which is the pride of our community and is further from the city centre, a far cry from the prayers were said prayers in peoples houses when my grandparents first came over here.
We are now in a secular society which is far remove from my grandparents who lived in a semi Muslim State. Probably as the years have gone by people have watered down prejudices against immigrants, but they are still there. Who knows their prejudice may water down even further through the decades with the introduction of new immigrants from the old Soviet block. To some extent I think that prejudices are inherent. It is a paradox of this country when one only need look at the history books which clearly state that the forefathers of this country and most of all the United States of America is made up from immigrants. It is my belief that the introduction of another culture to a society broadens that societies richness in culture. (Pause.)
When at University was the first time that I could see that I was excepted by people from out of my Community, I was treated as an individual and not the daughter of my Father. Purposely keeping away from the Islamic societies on the campus, for I wished to concentrate solely on my studies towards my Degree. It was not until after successfully completing my Degree that I took the time to study and appreciate the arts, sciences and history of Islam and comparing with other religions that I realised fully its immensity and beauty.
At University making friends with none Muslims who were going out drinking and enjoying their selves, did lead me to temptation. Oh yes I was tempted to go with them, how was I tempted. Eventually I weakened, please, please don�t get me wrong I didn�t partake in alcohol or tobacco but I went into places that sold them! My father would have been outraged if he would have known. Incidentally did you know that the Qur�an does say that it not only wrong to drink alcohol or tobacco but also to sell it! (Pause.)
My father treated my mother as a somewhat of a second class citizen, as my brothers do to some extent their wives but I suppose that�s up bringing. Education opens ones mind, to examine those �values� which you were brought up with, which in reality I suppose is that what scared my family from the first day that I mentioned that I wanted to go to University. Fortunately the grades in my examination results were good and the teachers strongly advised my family to allow me to stay on in the sixth form, to be quite honest I think that they thought that I would not last the two years to complete my �A� Levels. It was the same teachers that persuaded my family to let me stay on at school who persuaded them to allow me to go to University, secretly I think that they were proud of me!
To indulge in debate and not to be told what is right and what is wrong, to empathise with others and to read books of authors that I hadn�t even heard of before! It is only now some twenty something years later since I last wrote that here in this country are we now have Imams who were born and bread here. They have a clearer vision of what it is like to be Muslim and British, which as a whole contributes to the evolution to Islam in Great Britain in the twenty first Century.
It is stamped upon my mind the dread that I use to have when at University of going home for the holidays, the culture shock was immense, expected to work in that horrible shop until after midnight some evenings and having to wear a Shari all the time. It was a different world to what I was then use to, when in reality all that I wished was to enjoy myself and study! (Pause.)
Oh if my mother could see me now, never mind my grandmother with my two daughters one in Further Education College, the other just started this year at University. It�s completely different to when I was their age, with their mobile phones, their music and their cut at shoulder length, wearing western clothes and listening to pop music. They only speak English and the European that languages they learnt when they were at school. My job takes much of my time but a still manage to my juggle time about to keep house. The children never go to the Mosque, one of my brothers took them when they were younger but it was their decision if they wished to go or not when they got older. I think that it would have completely different thing if I hadn�t married a Muslim, although I do wear Hijab and always dress with modesty.
I have lost contact with the old community not because I don�t wish to see them it is simply I do not live amongst them and that I am too busy. Busy as I am I still find time although not as often as I should to read the beautiful Qur�an. I have always bought my children Christmas presents, as I believe that yes it is Christian festival, but it would be unfair to deprive our children of what their friends are receiving them, after all how many, inverted comers Christians celebrate Christmas in its true sense?
Our last family holiday together before the girls went on to further education was to Spain we visited Seville, Cordoba, Toledo, Badajoz, Sargasso, Valencia and Granada. Looking around the Alhambra with the Islamic gardens with the fountains surrounded by arched walkways built over six hundred years ago. The architecture could be made ambiguous. Designers and builders posed and played with the concepts of interior and exterior, inside and outside.
The most salient features been a courtyard is open to the sky but is within a building; a porch is covered on three sides but is open to the courtyard. This ambiguity was enhanced by the use of water to connect the interior to the exterior. Water carried by aqueducts from the surrounding hills, was piped into the buildings, where it flowed from fountains through the elaborate system of channels in the floor. The ubiquitous sound of flowing water creating the atmosphere. Many rooms had windows or loggias designed to command an extensive outlook where one could look upon the extensive gardens or the city in the valley. All four of us enjoyed the holiday although driving in the intensive heat was tiring. To me it was my Hijra, incidentally my parents and grandparents never made their Hijra to Mecca. (Pause.)
The aftermath of Nine Eleven an atmosphere hung heavily upon people the world over, but most of all the Muslims throughout the world. I remember clearly watching it on television as it happened. At first I heard a news flash on the radio, at first I thought it was some kind of stunt that the radio station was playing on its listeners. Switching on the television, it was like watching a movie as the second aeroplane flew into the second tower. At first it didn�t register with me that there were people in the towers, but then, then as the towers began to fall the true horror struck me! As the debris fell forming the plumes of towering clouds and the people as they ran for their lives!
It was maybe ten or twenty minutes after the second tower collapsed that the television presenter said that Nostradamus had predicated this happening. Having read Nostradamus the previous year desperately I searched for my copy of the book. On the internet it gave reference to the prediction which could as most of Nostradamus you have to make your own interpretation depending on how one reads it.
Muslims throughout the world were worried about what other peoples reactions would be towards them! People were seeing that all Muslims were radical terrorists which is not true. The Qur�an says quite clearly that it is wrong to take human life, the media picked up on Jihad which does not include terrorism in any shape or form!
The media is certainly a bone of contention with me the salient points which lead to what newspaper put into print and publish depends upon is who owns them and what political slant that the paper may have a bias towards. Which in turn leaves one with a rather distorted picture of what is actually the news. Which I shall leave you to draw your own conclusion for yourself of the kind of reader would read either tabloid or broad sheet. Please don�t forget the fact that sensationalism sells the majority of newspapers and not black and white facts, leaving the reader to fill in the grey.
Should the media look at the intention behind an act? Or simply look at a situation at face value or indeed look at it at face value and not the intent. And how in-depth should the reliability of the source be examined as well as the �beliefs� of the news papers owners as well as the political slant of the paper.
The most powerful media tool on the planet today. Sitting in the corner of majority of our living rooms, some base their leisure time around it, and why? Simply because its easy, become a couch potato. Providing light entertainment through to live coverage of a world disaster earth quakes, famine and floods to the man made disasters such as war. Therefore if is recognised by the media as more than that box in the corner of the room, then therefore isn�t it the most powerful tool so far invented which is available to put into use social engineering? Personally if it wasn�t for the children we wouldn�t have a television in the house.
Social engineering this can take many forms. The showing of an advertisement shown several times an evening especially at prime time viewing, the sales of the product will escalate dramatically. If you chose to watch preliminary gardening programmes or home improvements, probably your skills would increase and you benefit from a more pleasant house and garden, hopefully! This is what I would pigeonhole as cheap T.V., as it is relatively inexpensive to make. Probably in the case of these programmes this is the part of the tool with brings the �belief� through this form of media which when the more salient points arise they come across in water down fashion.
Providing the opportunity for ordinary people in win thousands or even millions of pounds. Again with the cost of making a programme these do work our relatively in expensive but in the process gaining high viewing figures which in turn attract the high paying advertisers. Which again like the newspapers sensationalism sells! Lets just imagine if the situation was turned around and instead of winning cash or goods that the contestant lost cash and goods would the viewing figures be as high?
On a recent programme where people ring-in to select the winner that more people voted than in the General Election! Maybe that could be a step for the future where the vote is taken by a national television audience with the result been delivered within minute or even live!
In conclusion this shows the different world that we live in now far removed from that of my parents never mind my grandparents world. It has I think to be a step in the right direction, indeed if not is one which we are stuck with.
My husband and I went to some of the same lectures, we started to study together, then socialise. Both of us came from a similar kind of backgrounds, it wasn�t until our last year at University that our parents met each other. By that time I think that it was taken for granted that we would marry, which we did the following year.
