You’re reading My Black History, a series of personal reflections from Black women in the UK on the meeting point of history and life lessons.
What does pride mean to you? For me, as a proudly queer woman, I think first of gay liberation and the global fight for all queer people.
But when I dig a little deeper, especially during times like Black History Month, the word brings to mind community. I would be nothing without the community that made me, shaped me, gave me wings and continues to inspire me. And that community functions for me on different levels.
Let’s take a dive. When it comes to my foundations, straight away I will always scream that I am a Londoner – more specifically an east Londoner, born in Hackney and raised in Leyton (which may be close, but aren’t the same!). My humble upbringing in this part of town is the base of my Black British identity.
Yes, Black British. There is much to be said about whether we identify as Black in Britain or Black British, and while I think this is a worthy discussion and a decision for each individual to make, I can’t deny who and what I am.
My parents are both Nigerian, my dad coming over in his late adolescence to study – what else? –history. He went to university in the same city, Leicester (with a brief stint in Nottingham) where I studied years later. Meanwhile, my mum arrived when she was 10, a decadeafter her parents had departed for England, leaving her with her maternal grandmother
Growing up in south-east London in the late 70s and early 80s, my mum had a unique experience. She came to the UK not speaking any English, arriving at my grandmother’s house to meet four step-siblings with whom she had no existing relationship. She attended secondary school in south London, where she lost her mother tongue– a specific language spoken in Eastern Nigeria, that I don’t even know the name of (sorry, Mum!). But unbeknownst to her, this would contribute to the strong sense of Black British identity I feel today.
