I’ve had boys at school like me but say they would never be with me because i’m not white. My friend in year 8 told me that every one of her brown friends houses smell of curry. On multiple occasions teachers would call me the name of another brown girl in class. I see comments people write online about girls like me. I read in the news more divisive rhetoric coming from the ‘true’ English people. That England doesn’t look like England. But did Pakistan look like Pakistan when the Brits came over? Did it even exist til the Brits came over? And now i’m one of them and i sometimes feel as though i’m not.
I went to Pakistan last summer and the people would stare at me. I cant speak the language, i can hardly talk to my relatives. I feel split. Not fully British not fully Pakistani.
But then I also know i have the privilege of fully and simultaneously being both. I will chant for the red devils at Old Trafford and feel the beat of Qawali music in my heart. I will do henna tattoos on my friends and go for drinks at Belgrave later. I will reject western white feminism and in the same breath speak and shout for my female grandmothers who never felt they could. I will go to the Christmas markets with my Christian friends, celebrate Holi with my Hindu friends and invite them for Iftar in ramadan. I binge Bend it Like Beckham, Season 2 of Bridgerton and the Netflix One Day series just because the pretty girls have my complexion. I will wear my England shirt during the Euros and later go to Wilmslow Road in Manchester and be with all the other Mancunian 2nd and 3rd gens. I love Zayn Malik just because he ‘comes from where i’m from’ (i swear that’s the only reason!)
I will somehow always write my English lit uni essays on colonialism and resistance. I look at Zarah Sultanah and Ash Sarkar and hope to be like them one day.
I will drink tea, order a chicken tikka and play a family game of cricket-wait where are they from again??!!
Yes our nation is divided but I hope not for much longer. My grandparents came as immigrants to this country. They made friends, found jobs, had children. They laughed, loved and lived. I am scared for the future of this country with all of its immigration rhetoric and subliminal meanings.
I am grateful I have the ability to more easily see from other perspectives and to empathise with more people. And although I may change my name to ‘Saffy Ruby’ when applying for jobs, I am Safiyah Farid and I am third generation British Pakistani.
