The Curve Theatre in Leicester is putting on three plays this summer to mark the 50th anniversary of the arrival of Ugandan Asian refugees in Britain.
The plays are being written by three people – Chandni Mistry, Ashok Patel and Dilan Raithatha – whose families and friends were caught up in the expulsions in 1972 when Uganda’s president, Idi Amin, gave the country’s 90,000 Asian population 90 days to leave the country.
The plays have yet to be written. The Curve is inviting members of the Ugandan Asian community with tales to tell to get in touch with the writers at “free chai and chat drop-in sessions” in the Belgrave Library on February 22 and 26, and the Rushey Mead Library on March 1.
The message from the Curve said: “We are looking for members of our community to share stories around their experience of the expulsion of Asians from Uganda. Did you arrive in the UK as a result of the exodus? Did someone you know make Leicester their home after being expelled from Uganda? Are you a second or third generation Ugandan Asian? Did you or your family live in Leicester and experience the arrival of Ugandan Asians? We want to hear from everyone with a story to tell.”
Ashok Patel
When the plays are ready, Finding home – Leicester’s Ugandan Asian story at 50, will be performed from July 29 until August 6.
Mistry, an actress who lives in Leicester and will write a play for children, said: “I’m so excited to have the chance to tell the stories of British Ugandan Asians who, like my family, have made a home in Leicester. These stories aren’t told in schools and so it wasn’t until I was older that I understood what my own grandparents had experienced. I’m really looking forward to creating a new piece of children’s theatre to help younger generations understand and connect with their own family history.”
Patel, a playwright who has a background in biomedical sciences and teaches at Birmingham City University, said: “I am really excited to be one of the writers on this project marking the impact of Ugandan Asians on Leicester 50 years after they were expelled from Uganda. It is the perfect opportunity to reflect on past experiences – some happy and some not – and to learn from the past to help shape the future.”
Raithatha, who was born and bred in Leicester and has been part of a local acting group, commented: “I am thrilled to be a part of Curve’s community play based on the 50th anniversary of the Ugandan expulsion. Throughout my upbringing in the Belgrave area, I was fascinated by the extraordinary stories from my community who experienced the expulsion first hand. I am delighted Curve have chosen to give this community a platform and ensure these stories are never forgotten as well as highlighting the importance they’ve had in the uniqueness, diversity and making of Leicester.”
Finding Home will be directed by Leicester-based Mandeep Glover, who previously trained at Curve as resident assistant director.
He said: “I’m so honoured and proud to be a part of such an amazing project with a theatre that is putting the heart of the Leicester community on stage. I personally believe that theatre spaces should share stories from under-represented groups that are not commonly heard from and this is what Curve is doing.
“This project is incredibly important to me, and I hope to honour the incredible journeys and sacrifices that an entire community had to make after the 90-day order to leave Uganda. We will be celebrating the past 50 years and the impact that the Ugandan Asian community has had in Leicester whilst also remembering the hardships and losses that happened along the way.”
Of the 30,000 refugees admitted to Britain because they qualified as British passport holders, a significant proportion settled in Leicester, even though the city council had taken out ads in the Leicester Mercury warning newcomers it did not have resources to cope with the influx.
Half a century on, Ugandan Asians have proved to be model citizens, helping to transform the economy of Leicester, which was a rundown city in the late 1960s and early 1970s.
Despite fierce opposition from sections of the Conservative Party and parts of the working classes, such as the dockers, the prime minister Edward Heath took a principled stand that Britain had a moral duty to admit refugees who had British passports. He opposed those who argued that Asians were not “kith and kin”.
Chandni Mistry
The fleeing refugees were sometimes assaulted and usually had their suitcases pillaged by Amin’s thuggish soldiers on the way to the airport. On arrival in a cold, wet Britain, vegetarians were welcomed with ham sandwiches by well-meaning social workers.
Many had to live in refugees camps for months on end, with families split up as well.
Fifty years on, first generation survivors, though grateful, remember with a certain degree of nostalgia the sunny paradise they had to leave behind. Their British-born children and grandchildren have in most cases not even visited Uganda for a holiday. But the stories of life in Uganda have passed down the generations.
The Curve’s experiment was explained in a joint statement by the theatre’s chief executive Chris Stafford and artistic director Nikolai Foster: “The story of the Ugandan South Asian exodus to Leicester is one that begins with trauma for so many. However, 50 years on it is a story of resilience and triumph over adversity.
“In this historic and hugely important year for our city, we are proud to work with our Ugandan South Asian communities and provide a platform to share their unique stories. Led by talented local director Mandeep Glover and local writers Chandni Mistry, Ashok Patel and Dilan Raithatha, these plays will be a beautiful exploration of stories from the past 50 years and ultimately a celebration of this extraordinary community.
Dilan Raithatha
“Finding Home – Leicester’s Ugandan Asian Story at 50 is the first of a series of shows we will produce over the coming years curated and created by members of our community; Leicester has so many important and remarkable stories to share and we are excited to be able to offer a platform for these incredible stories on our stages.”
The Curve says “anyone who is interested in performing, sharing their experiences or getting involved in the project in any way is welcome to join in and further details can be found here – www.curveonline.co.uk/get-involved/finding-home-leicesters-ugandan-asian-story-at-50/ or by emailing findinghome@curvetheatre.co.uk.”
The actor’s evolving style from youth to maturity getty images
Aamir Khan embracing vintage looks with classic charmgetty images
Bold and dramatic changes defining Aamir Khan’s careergetty images
From rugged to refined Aamir Khan’s versatile appearancesgetty images
Memorable film moments showcasing Aamir Khan’s unique stylegetty images
Aamir Khan’s blend of classic and contemporary fashiongetty images
Aamir Khan’s dedication to authentic character portrayals getty images
Cinematic milestones reflected in Aamir Khan’s on-screen imagegetty images
A seated Jain enlightened teacherAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Ganesha from JavaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
A Chinese silk painting depicting the BuddhaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
ArdhanarishvaraAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Head of a grimacing yakshaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
NagaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
The Bimaran casketAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Hunia Chawla
A still from rehearsal
Them performing liveNajmuddin Saifuddin Qawwal Group
The cast of Marriage Material in key moments from the play, including Avita Jay, Kiran Landa, Omar Malik, Irfan Shamji and Anoushka Deshmukh
Sathnam Sanghera’s 'Marriage Material' adapted into bold new play on conformity
The play Marriage Material at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre is Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s adaptation of Sathnam Sanghera’s novel of the same name, which first came out in 2013.
She is lucky to have Iqbal Khan direct Marriage Material. The play, a co-production with the Birmingham Rep, is set in the late 1960s. Mr and Mrs Bains (played by Jaz Singh Deol and Avita Jay) run a corner shop in Wolverhampton. Their younger daughter, Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh), is 16, her sister Kamaljit (Kiran Landa) is just a bit older.
They have a neighbour, Patwant Dhanda (Irfan Shamji), who, as we shall soon see, is not a very pleasant man. In fact, he comes across just as racist as Enoch Powell, who represented Wolverhampton South West for the Tories from 1950 to 1974.
It will be recalled this was a time when Sikhs working on the buses were told they couldn’t wear a turban. That was a hard-fought battle that had to be won.
The Bains, meanwhile, simply want to get their girls married off.
Nothing new here, I thought.
What makes the tale different is that the plot twists and turns down the generations. Mr Dhanda, who has the makings of a paedophile, makes a pitch for one of the girls when Mr Bains dies early in the play. “A life with no man in the house is no life,” he informs the newly widowed Mrs Bains.
Mr Dhanda has a wife but she has returned to India so he considers himself to be a free man.
Surinder’s English teacher from school, Miss Flanagan (Celeste Dodwell), who is also head of the fifth form, tells Mrs Bains about her daughter: “I don’t want to embarrass you, but she is bright. Ridiculously bright.”
She adds: “Mrs Bains, I think it would be a pity if Surinder didn’t stay on at school.” The initial response from Mrs Bains is not encouraging: “Too much education makes people’s brains get mixed up, they don’t sleep at night…”
But she is finally persuaded that Surinder should be allowed to stay on for a while longer before being married off.
Mr Bains was very old school. When Surinder confides she would one day like to be “a somebody”, he is amused that “my daughter wants to be a somebody”.
“Like you,” she tells her father.
Mr Bains consoles his daughter: “We will find a somebody for you to marry.”
At the point of a possible marriage, however, Surinder is sweet-talked by chocolate salesman Jim Wilson (Tommy Belshaw) into running away with him. They share a love of literature, and he calls her “Sue Bains”. But the relationship does not end well.
Once she has left, Surinder is written off as “dead” by her family. The story that is circulated is that she was only 16 when she was killed in a car crash. That’s better than to let on that she ran off with a white man.
By the time she is reconciled with her sister towards the end of the play, a great deal has changed. Kamaljit married Tanvir Banga (Omar Malik), a young man who helped out in the Bains’ corner shop. When the two sisters meet again, Tanvir has also died. But he and Kamaljit had a son, Arjan Banga (Jaz Singh Deol doubles up for this role after the death of Mr Bains). He has come home after his father’s death to help his mother who is still running the family corner shop.
Meanwhile, Mr Dhanda’s business has prospered. He now has a son, Ranjit Dhanda (the role is taken by Omar Malik after Tanvir’s death), and he is nearly as unpleasant as his father.
Arjan has an English fiancée, Claire (Celeste Dodwell). In London, Arjan worked as a creative director. But after deciding to stay in Wolverhampton to help his mother, he decides he cannot marry Claire because she is white. In other words, Asians are not free of racism, either. Happily, at the end, the couple are reconciled.
As for Surinder, she parted company with Jim Wilson after realising he was all talk, depended on her for money and had failed to earn a penny from his literary pretensions. She had prospered, though, as a hotel owner and had been transformed in time into a well-groomed businesswoman. After being tracked down by Arjan, she decides to return to her roots in Wolverhampton and help Kamaljit run the family corner shop. Perhaps 50 years had passed during the passage of the play.
Being subjected to racism turned some Asians into racists themselves. The word goreh (white person) is repeatedly spat out with venom. Maybe it is worth remembering the play’s audience isn’t exclusively Asian – white folk are watching as well. And maybe some of the toilet humour ridiculing white people, which always makes me cringe, could be cut out.
In Sanghera’s novel, there is a quote from Enoch Powell’s speech in November 1968: “The West Indian or Asian does not, by being born in England, become an Englishman. In law he becomes a United Kingdom citizen by birth; in fact, he is a west Indian or an Asian still... he will by the very nature of things have lost one country without gaining another, lost one nationality without acquiring a new one. Time is running out against us and them. With the lapse of a generation or so we shall at last have succeeded – to the benefit of nobody – in reproducing ‘in England’s green and pleasant land’ the haunting tragedy of the US.”
In Marriage Material, where the acting is marvellous (apart from Mr Dhanda’s Indian mannerisms and accent being overdone) we do travel across a couple of generations.
There is a scene when Tanvir rejects Mr Dhanda’s vision of creating a little Punjab in Wolverhampton.
Mr Dhanda wants to take over the Bains’ corner shop and is putting pressure on Tanvir to sign the papers. He says: “In this country, money is the path to freedom.”
“Sign, please,” he instructs Tanvir. “We must make sure our children learn to behave nicely, according to our rules.”
He insists: “We maintain our identity so we can be ourselves.”
Tanvir disagrees: “We can be us here. With the goreh.”
Dhanda warns him: “Then we will be inviting chaos.”
Tanvir’s comment is telling: “You sound like Enoch.”
Kamaljit, who is expecting a baby with her husband Tanvir, says: “I would like my child to grow up knowing the history of the Gurus and to read the Granth Sahib. And to love their culture.”
Tanvir tells his wife: “I would like my child to go to the finest schools, to cheer for England in the World Cup and eat Yorkshire pudding on a Sunday.”
Kamaljit sets out a dream that has perhaps come to pass with many third and fourth generation British Asians: “Maybe our child can do both.” Much, much later, in a throwback to the past, we learn of Surinder’s O-level results: “Biology A, Chemistry A, English Language A, English Literature A, French A, History B, Latin A, Mathematics A, Physics A…”
Kamaljit tells her younger sister: “Never mind about the B.”
And that is quintessentially Asian. Their acting is outstanding.
Marriage Material is at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until June 21, and at the Birmingham Rep from June 25-July 5