I was born in Bristol in 1964, to Jamaican parents who came to the UK during the 1950s. They were known as the Windrush generation. I grew up in a loving home with my older siblings and I was five years old when my family moved to Easton and we remained in the same house for over forty years. Although I have fond memories of growing up in our home, my parents suffered intolerable racism and abuse for many years but they refused to be downtrodden and determined to make a better life for their family, they remained in the UK.
As a teenager living in the inner city, I experienced racism from a very young age which continued throughout my education and into my adult life. Like many other black kids, racial abuse became an occupational hazard that was accepted. However, once the Race Relations Act of 1976 was passed, it prevented discrimination on the grounds of race.
In 1983 I joined the Avon and Somerset Police as a Special Constable, five years later I joined the Regulars. Halfway through my service, I took a career break, during which time I met my husband Richard. After more than thirty years of an enjoyable, sometimes challenging career I retired.
With no future plans to ever work again, the one thing we both agreed, we wanted to live somewhere hot and traveling around Europe there were many places we had considered as an option. However, Richard had connections to Malta and had visited the island of Gozo in the 1970s. When I visited for the first time, I also fell in love with this special place. I remember feeling overwhelmed and emotional as the ferry carried us across the waters and this beautiful, rustic, magical island unfolded before my eyes. For more than twenty years Gozo continued to be our jewel in the crown and favorite holiday destination and in 2017 we decided to live between Gozo and the UK.
Living on an island is similar to living in a village. It's easy to make friends but one can also live a life of privacy or seclusion. Each day I wake up I give thanks for the beauty that surrounds me. Within walking distance, I am surrounded by stunning coastal views, plush landscapes of the countryside as well as the magnificent architecture of the religious buildings and other historical structures which go back hundreds of years. All parts of this small island can also be reached by a short bus ride, so there is no need for a car.
When in the UK I am a keen gardener and I love to cook. It is not unusual for me to turn our homegrown produce into a satisfying meal. I am also partial to making sloe gin.
I hadn't planned on writing a book but the seeds were planted when I was chatting to the librarian in the school car park where I was the school beat manager. Incidentally, this was my last posting as a police officer. The two of us were talking about our childhood memories, laughing hysterically as we exchanged stories of our past and she said I should capture these stories. We parted company and I never gave it another thought.
Months later I was sitting at home. It was a Sunday morning and Richard was engrossed in watching television. I had no interest in it so I fired up my laptop and began writing about my childhood memories, the same memories I had shared with my friend. I continued to giggle as I wrote and after several hours, I had written a number of short stories. It felt good and I wanted to write more. Unbeknown to me my writing journey had begun. I had not told anyone about what I had written, even after finishing my first manuscript. I felt extremely proud of my achievement and satisfied I had finished writing my story, I printed it off and tucked it away inside a drawer then forgot about it.
Several months had passed. My niece was about to pay us a visit to Gozo and with our birthdays a day apart, I wanted to give her something special. I thought the idea of sharing my story would make a great gift. I asked Richard to read it first as I knew he would be honest. A few days passed before he told me that it was good but it was not finished. His feedback would be something I would take on board. He also asked me. Why did you write it?
I wanted to leave a legacy for my nieces and nephews. To share the memories of my life growing up in Bristol. I wanted them to know about their Jamaican ancestry and identity so that they would never feel like the forgotten generation. Many first-generation children grew up in the UK, not knowing much about our parents' lives in Jamaica. Asking questions was like pulling teeth and I wanted to pass on my story. What little I did know about my parents' lives, together with the research I had uncovered about my grandparents, made interesting reading. I believed this information was worth sharing.
Having read numerous books written by black authors, no one was writing about a child who had a story to tell full of local history and growing up in the inner city, in a small part of Bristol. I felt my memories of Felix Road adventure playground which still exists today are part of their DNA too and a worthy story to share.
It took me another year to believe my story was good enough to be published. During the lockdown, writing became a huge part of my life. Richard finally finished building my writing shed which is at the far end of the garden and I have decorated it with everything I have collected over the years. The roof is made of corrugated iron, so when the squirrels drop their nuts onto the roof it's a reminder that I am the visitor in their garden which makes it's a special place to write.
