Different Shades of Diaspora — My Lived Experiences from East Africa by Urmila Jhaveri. Part 2 of 3.

Different Shades of Diaspora — My Lived Experiences from East Africa by Urmila Jhaveri. Part 2 of 3.

OUR DHOW SAFARI ACROSS THE INDIAN OCEAN FROM TANGANYIKA TO JAMNAGAR IN GUJARAT

By 1943, Hitler was poised to attack EA any time.  In Dar-es-Salaam we had a complete blackout at night. Trenches were dug all over the town. Medicine and grains were in short supply. The army was on the move and prisoners and people were being ferried across the borders. For weeks on end, we watched convoy loads of traumatized Europeans being herded as German prisoners. All this while, my parents were getting worried. They decided to reach the safety of, 'Desh' - in India and stay in the family home in Jamnagar for the duration of the war. But the steamers had already been withdrawn, as a number of them were torpedoed and drowned in the Indian Ocean. The only option was to travel by Dhow. Bapuji hired Bijli the Dhow belonging to Kasimchacha. He was ready to set sail for India and had already made provision for the water to last for a month. Bapuji - my father filled up enough foodstuff and medicines, and my mother - Ba performed a short puja and thus began our 'Sindbad the Sailor safari 'when we siblings were just kids, unaware of what or where my parent's Desh (India) was!

For more than a month Bijli sailed through rough and tough high seas and silent nights. We were told to be quiet and not allowed to light a candle, even smoke a bidi, or to make any loud noise for the fear of being spotted by the enemy.

We watched shoals of whales and sharks with their calves and the play of nature, splendid and at times furious. Kasimchacha warned us not to disturb the huge mammals in any way.  ‘Otherwise, they go crazy with fear and can even overturn a smaller craft.  They follow a liner or a dhow feeding off its discharge.

To avoid German and Japanese submarines Kasimchacha sailed close to the coastline and bypassed Mogadishu and Aden. But while crossing the Indian Ocean to reach Socotra Island, Bijli weathered the worst storm of our journey. Miraculously we survived, but then mid-ocean, the wind died down leaving Bijli becalmed and unmoving. It was a perfect target for any passing submarines. Our drinking water was rationed, the sun was mercilessly hot, and we were thirsting for water in the middle of the deep ocean. Everyone including Kasimchacha started to pray fervently. Up to now, our journey was an adventure with the added sense of mystery and danger, but now we were in real trouble.  As we waited and watched the clouds anxiously, the wind lifted suddenly and Bijli was on its way following the stars once again. Kasimchacha knew the sky and the stars as the palm of his hands and narrated fascinating stories about his travels to distant lands.  Relying only on a compass, binoculars, a small courageous crew of only 5-6 daring family members plus his own navigating skill, our captain Kasimchacha brought us all safely on the shores of Gujarat.

Our fragile, perishable yet indomitable Bijli was but a tiny speck in that vast ocean, carrying an equally fragile yet strong cargo of human beings. Amazingly similar to all those sailors in their Dhows from yonder days we also traversed the mighty Indian Ocean towards an unfamiliar destination in search of security!

BRITISH PROTECTED PERSONS

In those days the term Indian Diaspora was not yet discovered. We were all classified as' British protected persons' holding British passports issued by the Colonial governments in India and EA. After the partition of India and Pakistan, we were identified as Asians still holding British passports. Our status changed when the East African countries gained independence and granted Citizenship to Asian applicants who qualified.  While the Indian professionals employed by the newly independent countries were known as Indian Expatriates.

NEW BEGINNING

In 1945 we returned to Tanganyika - a country that was still being ruled by the British with an iron hand. For us, life began in earnest once again, mine on a different mode! Soon I was married to Kanti Jhaveri.

As a young student Jhaveriji had joined the Quit India movement started by Gandhiji in India and had organized a strike in his college. He was arrested and jailed in Rajkot. After arriving in Tanganyika as a young lawyer, he continued to take interest in freedom and human rights issues and got involved in the political struggle in Tanganyika immediately

At the time the Indian Association in the country was facing problems due to the India-Pakistan divide. This prompted the leaders of both the communities to change its constitution and rename it the Asian Association.  They joined hands with Julius Nyerere and his party TANU and played a pivotal role, collectively and individually in the just starting struggle against British rule. To my mind, this stabilized the tense relationship between Tanzanians and Asians during that highly sensitive period.

Jhaveriji was much involved in this movement. I remember many late-night meetings, often attended by Julius Nyerere with his comrades to plan the strategy for gaining independence, being held at our home and in his chambers.

Soon in 1958, Nyerere was charged with anti-government libel and sedition.  K.L. Jhaveri and N.M.Ratansi led by Mr. D.N.Pritt QC appeared to defend him. The atmosphere in the country was explosive and turned into relief and celebrations when the verdict came out as a token fine.

Apart from being President of the Tanganyika Law Society for 15 years and an elected MP before and after Independence Jhaveriji served as a member of many important commissions and committees including the Judicial Service Commission and Africanization Commission, Legal Corporation and so on.

The country was on the march. I was an active member of UWT - National Women's Organization Central Committee from its early days. It was our task to visit regularly the women at grass root level, understand their problems and help provide solutions. This gave me the rare opportunity of visiting all corners of the country. In fact, at the time I was the only Tanzanian woman of Indian origin to do so.

We used to visit and stay overnight in Ujamaa villages and settlements all over the country right in the jungles where there was nothing. Toilets were a hole in the ground with snakes dangling and wild animals roaming at night. Water had to be fetched from miles away. Apart from that the rural women were strictly bound by social taboos and restrictions.  Domestic violence and the threats of instant Talaq were the order of the day for them.

Once after spending the whole day in the fields tilling the land and meeting people in one of the villages, our group returned to our rooms for an early night. Suddenly we heard the drums beating and people rushing about in panic. The village elders advised us that a group of witches was organizing a Ngoma dance under the Mbuyu tree. It was all about sorcery and not pleasant either. We should switch off all the lights and be quiet. Especially the Muhindi Mama.  (Indian woman)  Because if they sensed her presence they will definitely come to get her. I spent the night in a dark room under a blanket with some of my colleagues while Mama Sofia Kawawa who was the Prime Minister's wife and a couple of senior members stayed in the front room in case any unexpected guest turned up to investigate! We spent the night listening to drums beating frantically, dreading the knock on the door, and left early the next morning before the villagers woke up from their stupor.

Once in Dodoma, our delegation consisting of 10 - 12 members was being shown around the main hospital for mentally disturbed patients. The senior medical officer had explained that some of these patients were violent and had to be locked up. Some were just ranting away and left alone and others remained stark naked shouting for attention. We were warned not to laugh at all. While we were moving around a scantily dressed young man followed me purposefully and held my hand firmly. He would not let me go and started talking earnestly. Somebody whispered in my ears, 'Mama take it easy', and so I kept talking to him as we walked hand in hand. This went on for about half an hour before he lost interest and let me go. Now after all these years I find these experiences surreal.

Time does not allow me to continue but I would like to add that my best moments came when I met the women, shared problems, meals and songs, watched a teenager learn a craft and grandmothers learning to write her name alongside her grandchild. And not to forget, holding hands with an almost naked mad man and listening to witches' call at night! My involvement with these simple folks helped me to become a better human being and enriched my life to a depth beyond description, which shines within me like lighthouse beacon.

(with thanks to Opinion Magazine for permission to re-publish this story and to Bhadra Vadgama for alerting me to Urmila Jhaveri's amazing story).