WRITTEN OUT OF HISTORY-RETRIVE THE NARRATIVE

June 22nd last month marked Windrush Day, a celebration of the period between 1948 and 1972 when Caribbean people began arriving in Britain. As pioneers, they can be proud of what they’ve achieved and the contributions they’ve made. Yet until recently, their stories have largely remained untold, overlooked, and, in many cases, reduced to a mere footnote. Their history has been rarely taught in schools, scarcely seen in period dramas, and often treated as a historical afterthought. It’s a striking omission, for Britain is a country enamoured with its past—cherishing, studying, and frequently dramatising it—except, it seems, when it involves the Black British experience.

In Staying Power: The History of Black People in Britain, Peter Fryer writes that Black people have been in the country, since Roman times, “long before the English,” and historians like David Olusoga and others have confirmed and expanded on this, revealing a rich and diverse history of Britain that's long been neglected, overlooked and even erased. For example, long before the Windrush era, Black people were in Britain, and in 1590, Queen Elizabeth I issued a proclamation expelling “blackamoors”—a term used at the time for Black people- out of the country. That such a decree was issued suggests there was a notable Black population in Tudor England, yet most literature and commentary from that period excludes them.

The 18th century also saw significant numbers of Black people in Britain, with ‘The Gentleman’s Magazine’ reporting that there were around 20,000. They were brought to England by Plantation owners and lived mainly in London and around the seaport areas, working as cooks, maids, and the occasional pages. No longer useful to their masters, they were cast aside, abandoned, and left to fend for themselves in the slums of East London.

A few, like Ignatius Sancho and Olaudah Equiano, managed to gain their freedom, but the majority remained enslaved and unacknowledged in many of the official records.

Nearer our time and during both World Wars, it didn’t stop there, as more than a million people came to Britain from the Empire and Commonwealth. They came as volunteers to help the country, paying their way, showing a deep sense of loyalty. It’s remarkable really, especially when one thinks of the part Britain played in the ‘underdevelopment’ of the Caribbean.

What these new perspectives on British history are doing is challenging the narrow portrayal of the country’s past, and in so doing, offering a more inclusive, reflective and truthful account. It’s why 'Black History Month,' 'Windrush Day' and others matter, for they suggest new ways of looking at the past, presenting new narratives, disrupting victor-centric perspectives, while at the same time, providing a more balanced view of British history.

In the 1950s and 60s, after the Second World War, everything changed, as West Indians responded to the call from Britain to help rebuild the country. They came in large numbers, and it didn’t take long for them to begin raising families, establishing churches, building strong communities, and contributing to the British economy.

Though undeniable, their contributions for many years have largely remained undervalued, overlooked, and dismissed as the work of mere migrants. This marginalisation is the reason why we need to reclaim the narrative—correct the omissions, tell our stories, and provide a more accurate, balanced, and truthful account of British history. 

It’s for this reason that three years ago, I took on the challenge of documenting a key part of this legacy and started with 'gospel music,' because I had a front-row seat at its development. It started as West Indian church music, and coming out of the Pentecostal churches in the 1980s, it blended with American gospel, creating a distinct British gospel sound. Today it’s a firm favourite, heard in churches, civic halls, pop venues, cathedrals, and even in royal palaces. It’s also often heard on the radio and seen on television.

Building on the success of this first book, I wrote a second, this time focusing on the faith and development of Windrush Pentecostals, the establishment of their churches, and the impact they have had on the religious life of Britain.  

My third book, “Windrush: 7 Events That Changed Britain”, ties these narratives together and explores key moments in this fascinating story. What the research shows is that there are many areas in which the Windrush Generation have had a major influence on British society, helped to transform it, and has left a lasting legacy. It also reveals how the Caribbean community have helped reshape the country, and how they have been changed by coming to Britain.  

Today, it's unlawful for anyone In Britain to discriminate based on race, gender, ethnicity, or sexuality. But that wasn’t always the case. Changing this required decades of action, protests, and petitions by many people, including Harold Moody, Sir Learie Constantine, Claudia Jones and others. Although they may not be household names today, they are, however, pioneers who have brought changes that we now enjoy.

The history of the Notting Hill Carnival is another legacy and a powerful testimony to the work of the Windrush Generation. Rooted in a Trinidadian tradition dating back to the era of slavery, Carnival was initially a form of resistance. Enslaved Africans, denied participation in their masters’ post-harvest celebrations, created their own festivities—Canboulay, or “Cannes Brûlées.” These celebrations, filled with music and masquerade, were more than just revelry. They were acts of defiance, mocking their oppressors while protesting their brutal conditions.

In 1959, the spirit of Carnival was reignited when in Britain, Antiguans Kelso Cochrane was killed by white thugs on his way home from work. In response, Trinidadian activist Claudia Jones organised a Carnival at St Pancras Town Hall in London, as a form of defiance. It was a ground breaking event, commemorating Kelso’s death, a celebration of Black Caribbean culture, as well as a protest against the racism Black people were facing in Britain.

Today, the legacy lives on in the Notting Hill Carnival, now Europe’s largest street festival, with over a million visitors each August Bank Holiday weekend, contributing over £93 million to the local economy, supporting more than 3,000 full-time jobs.

Now seventy-five years later, these and other examples show that Caribbeans are firmly established in Britain, with successive generations continuing to thrive. Their unwavering presence, resilience and contribution are now being recognised as one of the most transformative events of the 20th century. It’s a revised narrative, yet a true one, showing how Black people have been part of Britain for longer than most people realised, and will continue to be so.