5 years ago I was walking through Waterloo Station in London and a white man shoulder-charged me, knocked me down to ground and spat ‘take that fucking hat off’. He was referring to my Zanna Bukka hat; the ones I always wear. The following week I ordered five more. Last week, I also ordered five more. And every time racism and Islamophobia bares its teeth, I crown myself with what it is they hate, and stand even taller, walk prouder. In the wake of all this, I will order five more.
Most people, friends and family, think I wear them for pleasure, but I wear them for pain. I wear them to own the fear. Every. Single. Time. I expect to be assaulted, because this is England.
I’ve been touring An Evening With An Immigrant since 2016. Since Brexit, I’ve travelled up and down England, across the planet, telling my immigration story in an attempt to humanise us to those who think we are animals. Wherever I tell the story in another country, I research its immigration policy and narrativise it; I inform the privileged few in the theatre what is being done to immigrants there.
When I performed the show at the Sydney Opera House, 10% of the audience walked out because they didn’t want to hear the truth. This is the truth: none of what’s happening is surprising, it’s just disappointing. Because I / we / immigrants have been saying this for years.
We have been warning about what pathetic, inexperienced, useless, successive political leaders were fostering. From Badenoch saying just last week that ‘integration has failed’ to Sunak, Johnson, May, Patel, Braverman, Jenrick, Cameron, all those talentless walking cesspits of bile and bitterness craving power and demonising us in order to get it, never caring about the repercussions… this is it.
The chickens have come home to roost; their families, sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, uncles, aunties, voters, electorate, constituents are torching our streets because they were miseducated and whipped into fleshy infernos of fear and furious inferiority complexes, then pointed at us. They are terrorists, homegrown by our politicians, now roaming the streets and hunting us. I have no words for them or for the terrorists, just for us.
So, to us immigrants, to refugees and asylum seekers: Don’t go looking for a fight. If arrested your citizenship could be revoked, the Home Office could claim you are a person ‘not of good character’ which would elongate your court battle, or worse, your ongoing claim could be completely rejected. All of this happened to me in my 26-year long battle. Instead, stay safe. Be vigilant. Find your tribe - people who genuinely care about you - Knuckle Down. Hold tight. For now.
A final thought. We must counterbalance the endless extreme stories told by mainstream media. They stoke fear and create extreme reactions. TV and Film industries can play powerful roles in commissioning nuanced and humanising migration stories. Too many of us who try to tell these are turned down or asked to write Black or Brown rom coms and crime dramas.
We won’t stop trying to tell our truths.
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