Leaving Africa for the Promise land, United Kingdom, Part I

Going to make loads of money in United Kingdom!?

Coming to Diaspora After hearing all the good stuff that goes in United Kingdom, the 30 British Pound per hour jobs, how my friend in London had just bought some land in a prime location in Harare, I decided to quit my job and go to UK for a better new life.I was very excited for this transition as my life in Zimbabwe had reached a stagnant point. I was working as a school headmaster in a high density suburb of Harare called Tafara.

My income had lost its value due to the severe economic inflation my country was experiencing. I was living paycheck to paycheck, just barely surviving. I missed those days in the 80s when a job as a school headmaster was highly revered and handsomely paid. I remember those days, I could afford to send my children to the best boarding schools in the country, and also save for an annual vacation trip with my family to Kariba or Victoria Falls. These days, things had totally changed.

My twin daughters back home waiting for Daddy to send some British Pounds

I had fired my garden boy and maid since my paltry salary could not buy that lifestyle anymore.Upon realizing the opportunities to go to UK, I decided t quit my job. One huge hurdle was securing money to get the British Visa and airfare from Harare to London. After serious soul searching, I decided to sell my house. I moved my family to a smaller house where they would be tenants for the first time. I had no choice. I needed money to fly to the promise land. What a big risk, but hey, high risk - high returns.My friend in the UK, Tom, had assured that he would take care of me for the first few months in UK until I got off my feet. I was so excited. This was my first time to fly, my first time on the plane. I was a little nervous, what if the plane crushed into the sea?

I prayed that the dear Lord would protect us during the flight. I arrived at Heathrow airport early morning, exhausted from the flight, but also excited that I had arrived in UK. My life was going to change from this point. I wondered at the airport looking for my friend Tom who was supposed to pick me up. Tom was nowhere to be found. Hmm, scary. I went to the nearest public telephone and tried to call Tom, no response. I started to panic. I spent the whole day at the airport, heavily jet legged, waiting that my friend Tom would show up, but I didn’t see anyone.

Whilst sleeping on one of the airport benches, one of the cleaners woke me up to move to another section of the airport as they needed to evacuate this part of the airport for heavy cleaning in preparation for the next day. I felt relieved after finding out this guy had a Zimbabwean accent. We started chatting and I told him my story. Misheck told me that it was not rare for people to stand their visitors from Africa.

He explained that living in UK was difficult and not as rosy as people make it look or sound.Misheck offered to take me to his house for the night. He however told me that he lived with 6 roommates in a 2 bedroom flat just outside london. We got to the flat, and I was shocked how these people were living in this small space. I slept on the floor whilst Misheck took his spot, the couch....

Part II coming next