My Journey To Britain: Lydia’s Inspiring Story
By Catherine Maina
After migrating to the United Kingdom more than two decades ago, Lydia Tett Olet, like many of the patriotic Africans in the diaspora, hoped that she would stay there for a few years and then return to Kenya. Growing up in Eastleigh, a refurbished slum and buzzing economic town in the peripheries of Nairobi city, Lydia knew she had to play her hero.
Lydia’s father was a middle-class worker with a good salary. Ideally, her family should have had a lavish lifestyle. She should never have been sent away from school for lack of fees. She should have focused on her studies, but this never happened. Her father prioritized other things that filled the family with its share of blight and barrenness, bent twigs, and broken branches. Lydia decided she needed to change the story or die trying.
At age thirteen, Lydia found herself haggling with other traders much older than her at the famous Marikiti (market). Many sellers wanted to mother and chastise her for being in the market early in the day while her agemates were in school. Lydia had to assert herself, claim her space, and be seen and heard. This is how she made money that she shared with her dear mother, who then held on and danced in a dysfunctional marriage.
The Journey to Great Britain
When Lydia joined a popular band in the 90s called Them Mushrooms, her parents labeled her a failure. They did not view music or dancing as a respectable way of earning a living. But Lydia had grown up in such a dysfunctional family unit that she knew this was her call and no one else’s.
At Them Mushrooms, Lydia did not need to prove anything to anyone. She found her people. Her tribe. They danced; they laughed till their bellies hurt. They mimed silent encouragements when one was on stage. They held hands. They fed off the applause of the audience. They shook their bodies to the beats of the African drums. They were alive. Lydia was alive with them. When her parents saw that she was not relenting, they made her an offer. She was only allowed to dance if the dancing would pay for a secretarial course for her. Lydia gave in. She used some of the money to pay for a secretarial course which she hated with every fiber of her being.
In the mid ’90s, Them Mushrooms left Kenya for a Europe Tour. This is how Lydia found herself in London. It was love at first sight. She knew that she wanted to live in the UK.
After the tour, Lydia borrowed money from her aunt and some of her savings and boarded a flight to the United Kingdom. There were no Visa requirements back then. She knew a Kenyan friend she had connected with during her brief stay with the band. The reality of life abroad smacked her in the face with rudeness uncalled for.
Nothing prepared Lydia for the hustle and pain of looking for a job without the proper paperwork. A lack of any recognizable formal training compounded this. She needed to prepare for the deplorable living conditions as she was not the only one in the house where she was hosted. She, however, had learned essential skills of working hard and being self-motivated. She motivated herself enough to invite her partner to the UK. It was one of those love-crazed decisions people make in their early twenties. He joined her, paperless and jobless.
Lydia eventually got a job as a chambermaid or housekeeper. She then graduated a sandwich maker and a short while later, lost her job. By this time, she was three months pregnant. There was no hope for her as her partner was jobless as well. They resorted to feeding from trash bins in the cold, unforgiving London streets. She knew which street had half-eaten food remains and which ones to avoid. Her partner would do the same with her. She thought of home and what it meant for her. She still did not wish to go back. Home represented misunderstanding. Home represented poverty. Poverty is only romantic in fairy tales. In real life, it was skipping meals and never having enough of anything. She was determined to make Britain her home. If that meant jumping from one bin to the other to find something to eat, she would do it. Britain was her home now.
In that foggy cloud of uncertainty, a silver lining appeared in the form of social services. They helped her get a house to stay in and a monthly stipend to help her raise her child. Lydia met a friend who told her that there was a government office that helped families like hers. Lydia had never seen this in Kenya, let alone imagined it. She approached them and narrated her ordeal. She hoped something beautiful would blossom from her frail, nubby reach for a better life. It did.
Lydia later gave birth to two other children before separating from her children’s father due to irreconcilable differences. She had to find a way to bring them up by herself while helping them navigate dual cultures, and this she knows better given her firm belief in the role culture plays in human-to-human relationships.
In December 2022, Lydia graduated with a degree in Business studies from the University of Cumbria. Attending university at her age helped her learn practical things she has applied in her jobs. For instance, she found a way to help Kenyans in the UK think about life insurance and plan for death and terminal illnesses. Lydia is also an actress in Nollywood, a role she intends to nurture even more. She is featured in Aposo Do Good, a film on human kindness. Her greatest triumph yet is seeing her children become God-fearing ladies of valor. She has taught them to stand out and never fit in. To never apologize for believing in their dreams and actively chasing them.
Lydia hopes Africans in the diaspora embrace our unique Africanness and speak up at all tables of opportunity and not cower down. She knows that only immigrants can tell the story of immigrants. She wears bright red hair to remind everyone that she is black and has power and authority. She will use these as her voice echoes downtown and uptown.
Today, Lydia wears many hats. On a good day, she is an event organizer; on a better day, she is an entrepreneur and philanthropist. Lydia is building a school in the Kibra slums in Nairobi. Kibra is one of Africa’s leading slums. She is an insurance advisor, a storyteller, an actress in Nollywood, a dancer, and a culture enthusiast.
Lydia’s word of wisdom was for Kenyans in the UK never to shy away. To always stand out and never fit in. To show up and show off. Asked how she manages all these while wearing a smile brighter than the morning sun, she said, “It can only be God.”
Catherine Maina (Cate Mimi) is a Kenyan freelance writer and a Renal nurse specialist in the United Kingdom.