We all have multiple identities – the faces we put on at work, with friends, with our partners, our parents, our children. These identities are an inherent part of being human – necessary, some might say, for our survival. Some identities are easier to hide than others, however: visible lines are drawn by the colour of skin, the classification of our sex organs, our mother tongue. As a half-Pakistani, half-Nigerian, Muslim woman, raised in Britain and the US, I have contended with such lines my whole life. I wanted to take elements of my experience – particularly the not-so-visible parts of my dual heritage – and weave them into a little-told story about south Asian migration to Africa (being a product of one such experience myself).
My debut novel, We Are All Birds of Uganda, tells the story of two second-generation south Asian immigrants grappling with their dual identities: one, born and raised in London; the other, born and raised in Uganda. The novel explores the difficulties the protagonists face as a result of their status as migrants, against the background of Idi Amin’s edict of August 1972 expelling all Asians from Uganda.
