New Generations, New Beginnings

Let us hope that the dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away and the deep fog of misunderstanding will be lifted from our fear-drenched communities and in some not too distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood will shine over our great nation with all of their scintillating beauty
Dr Martin Luther King, April 1963

Today, in the 21st century, my people are only just classifiable.

We are a diasporic society, driven out of our motherland with a promise of better work when really we were enslaved to the British. In Fiji, the political coups of 1987 and 2000 have driven more Indo-Fijians out in search of a stable life. “The crossing of waters, the shared traumas of sea journeys, removal from the social strictures of India and subsequent hardships as indentured labourers, led to the erosion of the caste system and the development of a more egalitarian cultural dynamic.” (R. Prasad, 170). Most of the indentured labourers forwent the strict segregation by caste as they banded together to form unbreakable bonds and relationships.

The indenture they signed was for five years’ slavery in the cane field of his Britannic Majesty’s Crown Colony of Fiji - to them it was girmit [sic], an agreement - and it contained some of the most pernicious clauses thought up by man...all for a few pence a day (Gill, qtd. in M. Prasad 168).

After the five years were up, one could work for another five years to earn their passage back to India, or they could remain in Fiji. Many chose to remain; they had no way of knowing whether their family members were still in the same villages or if they had moved on, and they were more than likely to be held in bad regard for abandoning their families (R. Prasad 9-11). Rajendra R. Prasad sums up the plight of indentured labourers so eloquently when he says,

Indo-Fijians are the descendents of indentured labourers who were recruited from India by the British (1879 to 1916) to work in the sugarcane plantations in Fiji. It was a British colony from 1874 to 1970. The indenture system was the successor to a reformed system of slavery in that it was contractual agreement for a fixed period of five years. Under the indenture system, the British from 1834 to 2916 recruited Indian nationals for its colonial outposts. 60 553 indentured labourers were recruited for Fiji under the indenture system (R. Prasad 9). 

In 1858, British Crown rule was established in India, ending a century of control by the East India Company (BBC). The Indian people were at a severe disadvantage in their own home land.  When the British came along and advertised work in overseas countries, many Indians jumped at the chance. Of course, there was no way for anyone to find out where they would be going, or for how long. The internet didn’t exist, and people were illiterate, therefore rendering a trip to the library useless. The British used this to their advantage; each person who asked about these ventures was given a different answer. There was no way to validate what was being said. Each ship load of people was thoroughly checked medically by the British doctors; there was no point in taking sickly people overseas. People travelled on the ships in cramped conditions. Dead people were thrown overboard; this would have been the first taste of upheaval for conservative Indians; there was no waiting to reach land to obey funerary rites. Typically, upon death, the body is cremated within a few days of the person’s passing. The family of the deceased enter a mourning period of 14 days, where they observe a simple diet of grains. At the end of the 14 days, the men immediately related to the deceased have their hair and facial hair shaved. Through the 14 days, there is a reading of the Bhagavad Gita, described

by eastern and western scholars alike to be among the greatest spiritual books the world has ever known. In a very clear and wonderful way the Supreme Lord Krishna describes the science of self-realization and the exact process by which a human being can establish their eternal relationship with God” (Bhagavadgita.org). 

As with other religious rites around the world, the Hindus consider the funeral rites to be of the utmost importance as it allows the soul to find peace in the afterlife (Pandit Ravi Gosai, personal communication). To simply throw a deceased body into the ocean without observing the proper rites meant the deceased’s soul would not find peace. It also meant that family and friends, indirectly, suffer the unexplained consequences of this person’s death. The flippant attitude of the British carried on into the harsh, unforgiving sugarcane fields where the Indo-Fijians worked (R. Prasad 17).

Upon arrival in Fiji, workers were sent straight to the fields. The British also held power in Fiji, and ensured the indigenous Fijians were able to continue their indigenous lifestyle with minimal interruption (Carens 204), so there was no reprieve for the workers. It is unsure whether the Indians knew they would be at the mercy of the British in Fiji. The pay in Fiji was poor, and because people had bought over limited money and resources, they had a hard time in establishing themselves economically. Each worker toiled long, hard hours under the sun for a pittance. One Girmitya, Pancham, laments, “In the village we knew only our own home or that of our close blood relations and were totally ignorant of the world outside” (fijigirmit.org).

Women who worked in the fields also gave birth there; the workers had no rights to go to hospital, nor did they have transport. In the Western world, the idea of pregnancy is so glamorized. There are ideas that women ‘glow’, as well as superstitions about the height of a pregnant belly pertaining to the sex of the baby. Scans and healthcare are a normal facet to ensure the birth of a healthy baby. Unfortunately, many indentured labourers missed out on this special time. A sadness arose within me when my Dad mentioned how women were sent to work, and sometimes gave birth in the fields. “The deaths of mothers and babies under such conditions could not always be avoided” (R. Prasad 80). To be so heartless to leave a woman in labour on her own, unattended, is to not have a human heart. R. Prasad mentions the plight of Naraini, a female labourer who was sent back to India due to insanity.

Naraini gave birth to a child on 16 August 1910. The child died four days later on 20 August. On 22 August, Naraini, already in a frail condition, was given the task of breaking stones with a hammer on the Sigatoka tramline. She tired after a few hours and was resting when sardar Muniram alerted her that kulambar Blomfield had seen her resting (R. Prasad 71-72). 

 

Naraini was beaten to a pulp; she was unrecognizable. After beating her, “Blomfield ordered her to go to Nagaga Hospital, five miles away, with girmitya Kaliram” (R. Prasad 72). Naraini was unable to walk the five miles; she collapsed, and was carried by Kaliram. Later, Blomfield was charged with “wounding with intent to do grievous bodily harm” (R. Prasad 73). Naturally, Blomfield wasn’t convicted; how many other injustices were there? The physical pain felt by Naraini is incomparable to the physical pain I feel. Other people died in the fields, too. They may have been overworked, underfed, dehydrated; there are myriad illnesses which may have affected them. Or, like Naraini, they may have been severely beaten to the point of death. The Indians were used as indentured labourers, and treated like scum on the bottom of a very expensive shoe.

I remember my first visit to our Fiji home. For me the memory is both eerie and emotional. The sugarcane crops had been planted months before we arrived; in fact, they were nearly ready for harvest. On a breezy day (unusual, or so I am told) sugarcane leaves swished in the breeze, as though they were talking. There is a strong Hindu belief that when one dies a kacha margi (early death) their spirit lingers on in the place where they died. I later learnt that many girmityas died in the sugarcane fields, and their funerary rites were not observed as “the servile conditions of the indenture made this neither feasible nor practicable” (R. Prasad 17). It was the spirits of our ancestors were lamenting their fates in my presence that warm sunny day.

My own ancestry lies in India. Chapter 2, verse 22 of The Bhagavad Gita says, “as a man shedding worn-out garments, takes other new ones, likewise the embodied soul, casting off worn-out bodies, enters into others which are new” (Goyandka 25); as Hindus we are taught that our soul is on Earth temporarily. As a result of religious belief, and illiteracy, we don’t have a family tree which exists on paper. As a child, working on family tree projects at school was difficult as I was envious of my classmates having so much information and heirlooms, whilst I had a very short generational tree with no heirlooms. The ancestors I know about are the ones who came from India. All I know are their names, and that they lived in Fiji. I have no access to information about where we are from in India. This is partly the fault of the British; in their eyes, the indentured labourers didn’t matter, therefore little information was kept on their subjects.

I live in New Zealand, a Western country who performs exceptionally well at most OECD rankings. “New Zealand ranks as the seventh-highest in the OECD on this measure of well-being” (Parliament). I am lucky that I am able to live with my immediate family; many immigrants from Fiji arrive alone, without any familial support. Through my life I have had access to a world-class education that many people dream of. I have never had to worry about school fees as they have always been affordable. My family and I have lived a comfortable lifestyle, but that lifestyle has only been achieved through hard work. 

Having left Fiji separately at a young age, my parents have had family pressure to do well overseas. They were both the first people in their respective families to leave Fiji, and they had a lot to prove. There is significant pressure to go home frequently, as well as to take back expensive gifts. My mother recalls the first time she went to Fiji as a married woman. She took some Cadbury’s chocolate (a luxury in Fiji), and distributed it amongst her family members. When she went back later that year, the same chocolate could be found the fridges of some family members as it was too luxurious to open and enjoy.

Although my parents were both born and raised in Fiji, they were educated in Western institutions. They decided to settle in New Zealand, and when they had children, we were born with expectations on us already. There is a high expectation that the children will do well educationally given they are raised in a Western country. As well as education, there are pressures put on the new generation to follow the same religion as their parents, and to at least speak, and be able to converse, in Hindi. I am proud of myself as I am able to speak Hindi fluently, as well as read and write Hindi.

I learnt about the girmitya’s by accident. We were at a friend’s house one day, and there was a commemorative-looking book on the coffee table. At that time, I didn’t know what girmit meant, and my Dad made the off-hand comment that “girmityas were the people the British brought over to Fiji” (Pandit Ravi Gosai, personal communication). I still didn’t understand the severity of the comment; it was only later, months down the track, when  I was both shocked and and saddened that I have never known about the horrors of the history of my people. Most of the indentured labourers forwent the strict segregation by caste as they banded together to form unbreakable bonds and relationships. After the initial five years contract, one could work another five years to earn their passage back to India. Many chose to remain in Fiji; they was no way of knowing what was happening in India. Many indentured labourers had left their families abruptly, without notice. They weren’t to know what kind of reception would meet them should they go back (R. Prasad 9-11).

I am the first-born in the first generation of Kiwi Indo-Fijians for both sides of my family. There is a lot of expectation of me to do well educationally, to be modern yet know my culture and religion, too, and to be mindful of our collective past. I remember my days as a child; carefree, unwilling to learn about my culture and religion even though I was fully immersed in it. It was a lesson I learnt in my teens; my culture and religion will always be a part of me, no matter what. And while I focus on my own spiritual growth, I will never be able to comprehend the horror that my ancestors had to live through.

There is a desolate feeling inside of me, something I can’t shake. It’s a dull, heavy feeling which sits in my chest, close to my heart. I can’t quite explain this feeling; it’s made up of helplessness, sorrow, and sadness, allayed only by the knowledge that my people have survived, and continue to survive. My people are special; yes, we are a diasporic society, and we will continue to be until we find our place in the world. We are also resilient, a trait in-bred in us thanks to the horrors suffered during the indenture period. Our specialness extends to our citizenship status. As Caren notes, 

the slogan for the Fijians Nationalist Party, ‘Fiji for the Fijians’, expresses the view of many Fijians, including those who supported the coup and the subsequent political reforms, entrenching Fijian hegemony. In this view, the Indo-Fijians should be regarded as second-class citizens, at best, perhaps even as temporary visitors to be returned to India or sent elsewhere as soon as possible (211).

Although Indo-Fijians have lived in Fiji for less than 200 years, that is the country they can consider to be their own. However, at the same time, Fiji may feel like a stopover for Indo-Fijians. This may relate to the girmit history, and the many repercussions that followed. Many Indo-Fijians have no desire to migrate to India; instead they would rather move forward and live in Western countries where they have clear rights as citizens, and access to basic amenities such as healthcare and education. 

The result of mass-migration from Fiji has seen tight Indian societies forming in the new adopted homeland; just like our girmitya ancestors, we are displaced, and at the mercy of the prevailing white society in which we now live. I am immensely proud of my people; even though we live overseas, we are constantly giving back to Fiji. As R. Prasad says, “They [migrating Indo-Fijians] left, but they did not turn their backs on Fiji” (264). A recent example is the diasporic response to the widespread flooding of 2012. In Palmerston North, the Indo-Fijians community banded together with the iTaukei community to fundraise and send donated goods to those who needed help. In a time of despair for Fiji, the two sides of Fiji came together as one to pull the nation through.

Born and bred a Kiwi, I am proud of my Indo-Fijian roots. I am sad that I learnt the history of my ancestors well after I should have; this may well be a sign of my family and community moving on from what has happened in the past. The shadow of the girmityas will always accompany my people wherever they go; there’s just no hiding it. My own life, so carefree once upon a time, is now filled with responsibility, and expectations to meet. I was raised by a set of standards; as a youngster you think your parents are being harsh towards you. What I failed to realize was that, given the hardships endured by my ancestors, my parents only want the best for me.

I don’t think my ancestors ever dreamt that I, the daughter of the first two people to be formally educated in their respective familial lines, would learn about my harrowing past at university. We are educated about the horrors that have been lived out in far away countries - I’m thinking of the Jewish Holocaust, World Wars One and Two, and the Hiroshima bomb to name but a few - where innocent people are always left to fight for their rights against a few greedy people. Never did I realise that a similar fate had met my people only a few generations prior. The girmit movement has left a strong impression in my heart, my mind, and my soul. It has opened my eyes to see the resilience with which my people have suffered such a terrible fate; they took from their experiences the good, and constructed the beginnings of the Fiji that exists today. No nation is perfect, and Fiji is far from perfect.

Those who died in the fields were denied the funerary rites which would have given peace to their souls. It is the voices of these restless souls whom we hear amongst the leaves of the sugarcane fields today.

References

Abebe, Tewodros. Capstone. Howard University. January 2011. Web. 25 October 2015.

Carens, Joseph H. Culture, Citizenship, and Community: A Contextual Exploration of Justice as Evenhandedness. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Print.

Pancham. fijigirmit.org. Web. 05 October 2015.

Kaul, C. From Empire to Independence: The British Raj in India 1858-1947. BBC History, 03 March 2011. Web. 24 Oct. 2015.

New Zealand. Parliamentary Library. Research Papers. “New Zealand’s rankings on the OECD’s measures of well-being.” New Zealand Parliament Paremata Aotearoa. Parliamentary Library, 9 October 2014. Web. 15 October 2015.

Prasad, Mohit. “Vijay Singh’s Indo-Fijian Work Ethic: The Politics of Diasporic Definitions.” Comparing Postcolonial Diasporas. Eds. Michelle Keown, David Murphy, & James Procter. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009. 168-188. Print.

Prasad, Rajendra. Tears in Paradise: Suffering and Struggles of Indians in Fiji 1879-2004. 3rd ed. Auckland: Glade Publishers, 2004. Print.

Srimad Bhagavad Gita. Bhagavad-Gita Trust 1995 - 2015. Web. 25 October 2015.

Srimad Bhagavadgita. Trans. Jayadayal Goyandka. Gorakhpur: Gita Press, 1991. Print.

Steinberg, Michael. “Finding the Inner Story in Memoirs and Personal Essays.” The Fourth Genre: Contemporary Writers of/on Creative Nonfiction. 6th ed. Ed. Robert L. Root Jr. New Jersey: Pearson, 2012. 333-337. Web.