{"id":3844,"date":"2020-05-28T10:44:30","date_gmt":"2020-05-28T09:44:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/globalindianstories.com\/?p=3844"},"modified":"2020-05-28T11:05:36","modified_gmt":"2020-05-28T10:05:36","slug":"debut-novel-depicts-the-challenges-of-a-young-asian-woman-expelled-from-uganda","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/globalindianstories.org\/index.php\/2020\/05\/28\/debut-novel-depicts-the-challenges-of-a-young-asian-woman-expelled-from-uganda\/","title":{"rendered":"Debut novel depicts the challenges of a young Asian woman expelled from Uganda"},"content":{"rendered":"

Winter was just setting in when I first saw the images of Ugandan Asians disembarking at UK airports. The weather was foul and l<\/span>\u2019ll never forget the look on the faces of the new arrivals, as they started their new, diminished lives. <\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"
Claire (2nd left) in 1972 with her siblings<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The year was 1972 and I was a teenager leading a comfortable life in the English countryside. I knew little about President Idi Amin of Uganda, but here was evidence of his brutality. On a whim Amin had decreed that all Asians were to leave their homeland with nothing more than a suitcase and <\/span>\u00a350 each. Everything they had worked for throughout their lives had been stolen from them. They were now homeless refugees, and my heart went out to them.<\/span><\/p>\n

Over the years, these images have stayed with me. I learned that many Ugandan families were prospering, running successful businesses, and becoming prominent members of the community. It was an uplifting tale of triumph over despair.<\/p>\n

In recent times I<\/span>\u2019ve seen several of my friends struggling financially through no fault of their own, and I would remind myself that broken lives can be mended.<\/span><\/p>\n

One friend in particular was beset with difficulties, yet every time an opportunity presented itself, or the universe offered a little <\/span>\u2018opt out<\/span>\u2019 clause, she would turn away. Why did she eschew the golden thread of serendipity and synchronicities that lay in her path? How could I term this gossamer thread that I believe can guide us to success and fulfilment?<\/span><\/p>\n

I termed it Fortunicity.<\/p>\n

How can you invent a word? Shakespeare did. He invented such words as <\/span>Lonely, Gnarled, Bloody,<\/span> and <\/span>Obscene<\/span>, to name a few. So, even though I am a grain of sand compared to the mighty Shakespeare, I went ahead and invented the word Fortunicity. <\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

And if you can create a word then you can create a story, so I set to, and wrote “The Fortunicity of Birdie Dalal”.<\/p>\n

The story follows the expulsion of a young Asian woman from Uganda, together with her Cambridge educated husband and their young son, Mohin. As well as seeing life in Uganda before the upheaval and their placement in a camp in London, it is also a tale of coming to terms with past traumas and following our true path. Most of all it is a tale of kindness and hope, something many of us need at this moment in time.<\/p>\n

My husband asked me how I could write a story about a young Asian woman when I, myself am not Asian. I replied that I don<\/span>\u2019t go through my day labelling myself; that would be turning in. I try to turn out. I imagine. I aim to empathise.<\/span><\/p>\n

During my extensive research for the book I read <\/span>From Citizen to Refugee<\/span> by Mahmood Mamdani in which he described being placed in a resettlement camp in Kensington, London. Now here was somewhere easier on the imagination. This was an area I knew well in the 70s. I used to love visiting Biba, which features in the book – the most stylish shop in London at that time. And whereas I would have seen it through the fresh eyes of a young adult, Birdie<\/span>\u2019s viewpoint would have been equally naive.<\/span><\/p>\n

Whilst writing the book I looked into how I was going to get it out into the world. I read articles and listened to podcasts. I heard too many stories of small authors being taken on, given mild promotion by publishers, then left to fester in dusty store rooms.<\/p>\n

Publishing is changing. Authors can gain control.<\/p>\n