Dear LPG,

As we get to another October, and another black history month, and all the memories that the various events and occasions bring back to the people with personal experience, and their friends who learn a little more about the celebration, I wanted to share my experience of first coming to England. 

I remember the day I left the shores of my home town to travel to the United Kingdom, on a cargo boat.  Arrangements had been made for two young girls, still in their teens, to work and study in the Colonial Office in Victoria, London.  Our country, Sierra Leone was still a British colony at the time. 

We were to board the boat offshore.  I felt it would topple over on the rough seas and we were rowing in pitch darkness to add to my fright, and I will always remember my absolute terror when we first realised that we would have to climb rope steps to board the ship. 

Back then cargo ships took ten days to reach Liverpool; ten long days, no stopping on land and no amusements for the twenty passengers who, when they were not getting on each other’s nerves, were sea sick and bored. 

I had an aunt who had warned me about the cold weather here and I was wearing a warm cardigan she gave me.  But as warm as it was, it was not warm enough!  We landed at Liverpool, were met and taken by train to London on a cold October Friday.

I first lived in a Church–run hostel for young women who appeared to come from just about every country in the world and we had two days to settle in and learn a little about our new surroundings.   We went to church and saw a few sights, but my most vivid memory of that weekend was the cold.

English was taught at school so I had no language barrier when I arrived but I learned bits of many other languages in order to be able to communicate with my fellow house-mates.

Unlike many others who came over at the time my plan was to return after three years and I did.  I did meet, and nearly marry a West Indian man but although we found ourselves in an environment where our challenges were very similar the thought of moving so far away from my home permanently put pay to that marriage.  I suppose the fact that I came to do a government job for a fixed term made my first stay in the UK relatively comfortable and congenial by comparison with some others who immigrated in the early 1950s, and have described some really harsh experiences.

I came for three years and returned at the planned time ready to remain in my homeland, but I then got married and it was my husband who wanted to return to study in the UK. So I moved back have been here ever since

I returned to London in my mid-twenties and I was ready to stay for good that time.  Over the years I have visited Sierra Leone regularly.  My roots were always back in my childhood country home so while home is now England where I have played the role of mother, grandmother, wife, widow and worker, I have been involved with charities and other organisations back home and continue to do so.

I hope that some others remember and are inspired to let us know their experiences of first landing on the shores of England and learning to live in Lewisham for the first time, or of meeting and getting to know the many people of colour who arrived in Post war Lewisham. 

CMJ, Brockley