This is story #22 in the series “Where Exactly is Home?”. The author recommends you read them in order.
Introduction:
“Where Exactly is Home?” follows the story of my parents, my two younger brothers and me, Susan, who emigrated from war-battered Britain, in the mid-late 1950’s, to Southern Rhodesia, Africa.
The effects of this move on our family were huge, as we struggled to adapt to such a different way of life. Only after further upheaval, and more long-distance travelling, did our family eventually settle in the city of Salisbury, Rhodesia.
However, we did not know then that we would not remain there for the rest of our lives, either.
When the family first went to Africa, I, Susan, was 9 years old. My two brothers, John and Peter, were almost 7 and 4, respectively.
Nowadays, as seniors, John and Peter live in England. I live in Canada. Throughout our lives, we have both benefitted from, and suffered because of, our somewhat unusual childhood.
I, for one, still sometimes ask myself which country represents home to me.
This is a series of stories under the title “Where Exactly is Home?” – I recommend you read them in order, starting with story #1.
22. The Lure of a Bicycle
“We aren’t staying in England forever, after all? We’re going back to Africa! But you’re telling us that John and I can have bikes, then?” I stared at my parents, felling both shocked and incredulous.
No, we weren’t staying in England forever, it transpired, and yes, we were going back to Africa. Furthermore, we would be leaving in such a short time, within a week or so. I was stunned. So was my brother, John. Peter, at 6, was probably still too young to really take in all the implications. Did he really understand, as did John and I, at 10 and 12, that we were returning to Africa, that we would have to pack up yet again, that we would be leaving our present schools and starting out once more in Southern Rhodesia?
As soon as I heard the news of our departure, I felt partly angry because I realized that I would again miss the examination to qualify for my entrance to the more academic Grammar School. I was still in a Secondary Modern School for students who had not passed the 11+ examination, for whatever reason. In my case, I hadn’t been in the UK when I could have taken the 11+ examination. Now it was November. I would be 13 in June, and I was going to miss the 13+, too, the second and last of the two opportunities offered. I was hoping to get into a Grammar School like John. But that dream was ending now. I wouldn’t get the chance to prove myself academically because I wouldn’t be here by then.
