Windrush Story – A poem by Alyson Malach

[ listen to Alyson provide a background to her story and recite her Windrush poem.]

My father arrived in England in 1955.
He came to work on an invitation, leaving behind his life.
He left his partner and his children three,
to work hard, share his skills and help prop up the UK economy.
I was a just baby, just three and a half weeks old.
He left me, my brother and sister.
To send for us later, my mother was told.

He experienced racism from the day he arrived.
He was shaken and sad, not sure he would survive.
He could not get anywhere decent to live.
Had to settle for rat infested rooms that only rogue landlords would give.

He later told us of names he was called; how he was shouted at, spat at,
and physically mauled.
Over the years he worked hard and settled down Despite racism still being rife
and still scattered around.

When I was five, he sent for us kids.
To provide us with a better life and somewhere to live He told us his tales of
what he had endured.
Listening to his stories, we were never bored.
He often told us that the colour of our skin.
Would be a disadvantage and not let us in.
The black shade of our skin would make us stand out.
We would encounter, like he did, hatred and shouts.
Shouts to get back from whence we came.
We would forever experience racist names.

He told us to study hard, to educate our minds.
To rise above the negativity and the racist signs
We all did well in education and employment.
We managed our lives and gained some enjoyment.
But when returned to the West Indies in ‘74?
He gave us kids some advice that we are forever grateful for
He told us to apply for Naturalisation.
In case the UK, in years to come, considered repatriation.

We all listened and did as we were advised.
We are grateful to dad for securing our adult lives.
Without this certificate we could be on the plane.
Never to step foot in the UK again.

Our children too, are thankfully secure.
And their children’s lives are at risk no more.
They invited them in and treated them so badly.
They exploited their skills and would send them off gladly.

Reduced them to tears, depression and mental ill health.
Despite the West Indians propping up their wealth.
The hostile environment that has now come about.
Has created a situation of worry and doubt.
Worry about where West Indians’ lives will end.
Because Britain seemingly, is no longer their friend.

My dad came here in 1955 on the UK’s invitation.
The Windrush hostility is a direct result of this situation.
We must all join together and support the fight.
And help West Indian families secure their rights.