I am Other. As a beast of many nations that was my rite of passage into both African and British society. Like many diasporans born on shores unknown to their forefathers, the battle of identities has been alive and well in me since before I can remember. It has plagued and it has weighed heavy, but it has taken me on a journey. One that I conclude today with you in this final post.

*Boils kettle*

Growing up, my father always used to say: 

“You cannot know where you are going if you don’t know where you’ve come from”. 

It is one of the greatest lessons that he has taught me and one that, throughout this journey, has helped me find my way.  

My experience growing up in the UK as a second-generation immigrant was interesting, to say the least. There was always a part of me that was craving Britishness, though admittedly in certain environments this transcended into forms of self-hatred and internalised racism. I always wanted to be from here, I always wanted to assimilate. While truthfully, a lot of that was due to the, at times, toxic nature of British society, it was also a result of how alien I often felt back home.

As a child in Zimbabwe, I was always referred to as “the one from London”, at times with love, though at times with malice and I hated it. It was othering to a degree akin to when middle England persistently asks immigrants where they are really from. It displaced me and in response, I clung to my Britishness. But doing so came with its own price.

“Black. African. British. Woman … Once British before I was African because I felt rejection in my mothering country long before I understood that I had never truly felt acceptance from the country I first called home.”

– I Am Other: An Introduction

As a teenager, I didn’t always understand that acceptance as a Black person here is conditional, and I unfortunately learnt that in very hard ways. The force of British discrimination is mighty and it winded me, though it wasn’t just the initial impact, but the remnants it left in its wake. It took me years to fully heal from racial traumas and unsurprisingly, I am not grateful for these experiences. Though, admittedly I would not change them, for I see the vital role that they have played in my story.

After being shunned in British society, I was lost. Though, if I’m being completely honest, the disorientation of the diaspora had left my youthful feet wandering with no real place to land for the majority of my teenaged years. I was left searching aimlessly. That was until I remembered: you cannot know where you are going if you don’t know where you’ve come from.

Honestly, a moment of gratitude for my parents, because despite the displacement of being Other, they instilled in me a true north, so when I was ready to return home, I knew exactly where to go.  

Queue Sips Tea:

“Today is different … African before I am British because it was in understanding this that I began to experience a greater sense of belonging to myself.” 

– I Am Other: An Introduction

Since first writing to you three years ago, my journey to explore my identity and dissect my experiences as a Black African British Woman has brought me to many a place: distress, acceptance and in many ways, enlightenment. It has not always been easy to boil the kettle, but for every cup poured, there has been a weight lifted, a realisation made, a truth told.

Admittedly, my greatest struggle, though also one of my life’s blessings, has been growing up in the diaspora. It has been a racial and xenophobic battle wrapped up into one. But the beauty in sharing that has been connecting with those who have been silently fighting in the war with me.

I connected with a friend recently. They’d just moved and wanted advice on how to navigate life here. And so, I told them what I wish I could tell my younger self:

Experience everything but lose nothing.

Embrace your Other. Do not sacrifice parts of yourself to appease the environment you’re in. Experience the world as authentically you, because in doing so, you will experience the best of it, the worst of it, and the truth of it. Be unapologetically yourself, speak Shonglish in the middle of Harare, it’s better you try to speak your mother tongue and get it wrong than to not speak it at all. But don’t ever let them mispronounce your name, correct them every time because your named identity is just as important as every other aspect of who you are and you are deserving of that respect. Last, but not least, immerse yourself in British culture, experience all that it has to offer, but never lose touch with your first.

Experience everything but lose nothing. It’s what I would tell my younger self, because the truth is, I am Other. I will never fit, and yet somehow also, in merely embracing that, I will always belong.  

And that is the truth of it. That’s the tea.

And on that note, always remember… *Sips Tea*