Tenacity

Sat here on rush hour train this evening I'm remembering  the day I finally  decided to publish my diary. The one and only diary I have kept as an adult.  

At the time, although African refugees were allowed into New Zealand it seem as if a lot of people were resentful of this influx of foreigners who were seen to most as dole bludgers, criminals and people to pity, who had ruined their home lands only to run to New Zealand to abuse their resources. 

This was the era when the world 'refugee' meant a badge of shame, as opposed to its true meaning - a survivor of a life threatening situation. 

I remember one day in Lower Hutt. Having only been in the country a year, as I sat at the bus stop waiting for my bus to go home. A boy stood in front of me and bounced his very dirty basketball on my lap and said. "Somalian go home!”. Feeling degraded and upset that he could do that to me (to anyone) I grabbed the ball and threw it back at him as hard as I could and he ran off with his ball. 

On several occasions I was told to go home randomly. However, I refused to believe everyone had that same small mindset of fear of the unknown. I set out to search the web for a publishing company.  A friend who wasn't a refugee but of African descent who knew some people in places introduced me to a lady. This lady who I will refer to as Lady D knew a publishing agent who worked for one of New Zealand's leading publishing agencies. 

After several meetings with Lady D, I was then introduced to the agent who was misinformed of my surname, it was apparent  from the manner in which  she posed her sentences that even before I met her. Assumption were made that I got my last name through slavery and that I was sexually violated during my time in captivity. 

Upon my first meeting in Wellington with the agent I was gifted a book which was a biography of another African girl.  Conversations were had. The question relating to how I acquired my surname was raised and I made it clear my surname came from my ancestors  as far as I know. Maybe colonization had a hand to play in the matter as is the story of many indigenous people globally. However, it this was the only surname I had  bore at the time and so had my father and his father before him. 

I was later asked to submit  my manuscript.  I proceeded to mail two floppy discs with my book on them. Months had passed with no contact from the agent. A few more days later I had a telephone  conversation with Lady D. Who proceeded to inform me that the agent had asked whether I was sexually violated during my time in captivity and whether I was enslaved. She said otherwise my story was not marketable.  

I became so very upset and I felt exposed. I instantly started to regret wanting to share my story. I felt dirty, and  it made me sad and upset. I spoke with one of my aunts about it. At the time I was still not reconnected with my mother and I had no idea whether she had survived  the war in Liberia. With my mind made up, I sent a stern email asking for the return of my floppy discs and every printed page on my manuscript to me. I scolded myself a bit for believing that people outside my cycle of friends and family are good. For wanting to share my story for one more African voice to use a standing space on the global platform of publishing and sound out to our leaders the atrocities they unleash on their people on a daily basis. To use my story to inspire others. 'How dare I, a silly refugee'. I thought. Then I wondered  who their this publishing company's readers were. What kind of people are they that a survivor story without  actual rape is not good enough.I received my manuscript after I wrote a few more follow up  emails reiterating my request for the return of my manuscript  in all forms.  At my last attempt to repossess my manuscript I demanded that they send it to me. They returned the print and later the discs after another email. 

My faith in humanity and my unwavering tenacity after hearing the word 'NO' proved  stronger! I kept calling around but no publisher in New Zealand wanted my story.

I let my intention to publish go for almost a year then one afternoon after being encouraged  by family members to keep trying I resumed my search for a publisher. This time I had heard about self publishing but I didn't fully understand how it all worked but I was willing to learn. My initial experience  had at this point put me off wanting to work with another mainstream  publisher for fear of those questions arising again. At this time I was still not willing to talk to strangers about my ordeal. I know it sounds crazy that I wanted to publish but I didn't want to talk about the story to strangers. Yes, I wasn't ready to tell just anyone. 

I decided to search for publishers outside  of New Zealand. So I searched Self Publishing Companies in Australia  and three came up. I said a prayer and read through all three and one stood out to me.  So I called them. The voice on the other end of the phone sounded friendly, more than the ones I had called over the previous months. He asked what my story was about and I told him he asked why I decided to publish and I told him. He was really excited. Turns out he was a Kiwi who had moved to Australia for greener pastures.  He understood my struggle to find a publisher.  When I explained  the journey that led me to his company. He was not surprised.  He said 'people need to be more open minded.' I'm glad you called us! What made you choose us out of the three?' He asked. 'You stood out to me.' I replied. 

This amazing team and I worked together to bring my book SURVIVED: The Journey to the world. His team was fantastic.  They made suggestions where necessary  and ensured my story remained mine and added nothing to sensationalise my story.  

On the day of my book launch which was a private event the wider public of New Zealand showed a different side to me. They came to the event (even uninvited) and asked if they could come in. This of course was a welcomed move. We partied till 4am the following morning of 14th November of 2013. Since then New Zealanders  have supported me. Here is one form of many ways they have embraced my narrative. This Radio New Zealand interview was arranged by one of my Lecturers through my University.