The news of us finally leaving Guinea-Bissau to Switzerland, should have been welcomed with joy, excitement and jubilation. In my case, I was confused and in complete disbelief. This defined my other layer of personality: to add my defiance, stubbornness and overall strong character, I am also someone who would see it to believe it. I would also get into trouble for that when I was threatened with consequences and wouldn’t believe it until I actually get the consequence. Yes, you figured my strong and complex character was incredibly challenging to deal with. I wouldn’t be patient with someone who was like me either. 

My grandmother seemed to have run out of patience with me. She wasn’t the only one. No matter all the beatings I received while in Guinea-Bissau, it had the opposite effect on me as I simply became rebellious. Anyway, to be honest she welcomed the news with more jubilation than anyone else. As soon as she finished talking to my mum, she rushed around like a headless chicken and started to pack all our belongings. She was the speed of light and everything was packed up in seconds. 

Don’t get me wrong, I was obviously excited inside to finally be reunited with my mum and for all of us to be together again. Again, I had to see it for myself to believe it as we have been living in Guinea-Bissau for so long. Would I miss my time here though? Well, I haven’t seen my mum overall in 2 years. Those years felt like an eternity. So we were explained that in order to go to Geneva from Guinea-Bissau, we would have to transition from Lisbon, my hometown, before catching another flight to Geneva.

Unsurprisingly, the D-day arrived so quick and awaited us to leave Guinea-Bissau for good. After saying our goodbyes, we arrived at the airport. The only recommendation from my auntie was to guard my passport and ticket like a hawk. When it was time to show my passport and ticket, I refused to hand them over not only because of my defiance but also because I, for once, obeyed strict instruction. I was told unless I showed my ticket and passport, I would not be abled to board. Eventually, my auntie was called over and she disclosed that only to stewards and customs officer I am allowed and no one else. Thankfully for my auntie’s intervention otherwise I doubt I would be able to take my flight.

As I boarded the flight with my sister, we had a steward to accompany us as we were still noticeably young (I was only 4 nearly 5), I was able to convince myself it was real. I would be reunited with my parents. I slightly smiled as I was looking out of the window. This flight represented my escape, my freedom and my refuge. 

Once we arrived in Portugal, we were greeted by a familiar face, our mum. We ran as fast as cheetahs to greet our mum. The aura enveloped our reunion in such a manner that we felt it was just us in the airport. My mum looked at me and the first thing I said was you took so long or what took you so long. I spoke those words in creole, Guinea-Bissau’s official language. However, I could still speak Portuguese and with our time in Guinea-Bissau, I could equally speak creole. Anyway, we had to hurry, we had another flight to catch; en route to Geneva, Switzerland. We were still buzzing with excitement like bees, all over the place. I asked for my dad, I longed to see him again. I missed my dad so much. Dad remained in Switzerland awaiting us at the airport.

To give you a timeframe, it was April 1986 or 1987 that we landed in the promised land, Geneva. We quickly realised the sharp difference as it was way colder, I still remember. The majestic swiss mountains welcomed us, surrounding the airport. I was in such awe of amazements. I never saw such high mountains before in person if that makes sense. Inhaling this pure fresh air, I was already captivated by the beauty Geneva had to offer. My eyes were hungry for more. It wasn’t enough for me savouring the beauty Switzerland had to offer, I wanted to devour it. My mum took us away to get our luggage. Once we did that, awaiting among the sea of people in the airport was our dad. I was so ecstatic that I ran so fast and the realisation felt like I was running in slow motion. I jumped on my poor dad who was powerless to contain my joy and cries. It was the first time I saw my dad since our separation which lasted a lifetime.

We first took a bus from the airport, then a tramway to go to our new area where our home was located. At first, we lived in the area called La Servette. Our excitement was an explosion which exploded and its wave was felt throughout the whole tramway. As we were admiring more beauty of our new city, everything amazed us: the buildings, the many banks, the various chocolate shops displaying various types of mouth-watering chocolate on display. What impressed us the most, was how clean Geneva was. 

The stark contrast between Geneva and Guinea-Bissau was like day and night, no comparison. We were so excited and loud, which people did not appreciate and we kept on sensing the negative eyes on us. If looks could kill, our excitement would have died on the spot. My parents received many complaints about our behaviour, mainly our loud excitement for we just couldn’t contain it. I was only 4 for crying out loud. Why are people not compassionate that we just reunited with our parents and were simply excited about exploring Geneva? 

As you know me by now, especially my defiance including my stubbornness, didn’t stop my excitement. In fact, I was even louder to the annoyance of other passengers. I simply didn’t care and it shows in my carefree personality. Unfortunately, my excitement in the new city was short lived. The very next day, I had to go to the hospital as a matter of emergency. My time in Guinea-Bissau simply didn’t want to let me go.

I was so happy seeing my sister again. After this episode of separation, we have never been separated ever again. We became inseparable. My sister will forever be my partner in crime, like Thelma & Louise, Bonnie & Clyde.

Anyway, leaving Portugal was bittersweet: I was sad leaving my beloved country, leaving my father and grandmother behind. They both loved me so much and it was reciprocal. However, I was so elated to leave my tormentors behind. Those vultures can pick on another helpless victim for all I care.

I was looking forward going to my mum’s country, in a way also learning about my own origins. For a moment, I resembled the famous Portuguese explorers of the 15^th century who were the first to explore the African continent.

After a long journey, we finally arrived in Guinea-Bissau, greeted by our maternal grandmother and some other relatives. Me and my sister felt so important like it was a welcoming party at the airport. Such a happy moment we sensed the positive vibe hugging us. Although I was happy to be surrounded by family, the one thing I couldn’t handle well was the unbearable heat. The menacing scorching sun was throwing countless heat punches in succession without giving us a break. Shades were our haven protecting us from the ferocious sun. The thing I realised, once you were exposed by the sun, you quickly became the sun’s prisoner, helpless and attacked by its strong and powerful rays. In other words, my first experience in Guinea-Bissau resembled hell on earth. As if the sun wasn’t a threat enough, lurking around the village that was now our home, hyenas and vultures fighting over leftover food from the garbage. It is fair to say, me and my sister were not used to this life yet. From being born in Lisbon, to living in Madeira, with the vibrant city life including the vibrant beaches to now living in a remote shack village? This reality was a slap in the face.

To make matters worse, was the culture in Guinea-Bissau which I wasn’t prepared for. So, as you may recount, I was such a ball of energy, bubbly and always seeking attention right? Well those characteristics simply were not allowed. I shall explain why. Many African countries I am sure is the same, but you must be docile, do as you’re told and must importantly obey rules. Well, I was terrible and not only did I stand out for my larger than life personality, being European I was clearly labelled as well which didn’t go in my favour. I found most children especially girls my age (3-4) so docile and cookie cutters almost who already knew how to cook, clean and more.  I was the opposite, I just wanted to play which was normal at my tender age. Sadly for me, I was often on the receiving hand.

As I was so stubborn and didn’t follow the rules and do what I was told, I was frequently beaten. Before you find this appalling, this was the culture in Guinea-Bissau (including many African countries) this was how we were raised, beatings were part of the norms. So ironically from being frequently bullied and beaten by my friend’s cousins and young relatives, now I was being frequently beaten by adults. I wondered when would this ongoing nightmare end? I started school in Guinea-Bissau and at school, teachers also can beat you. The beatings didn’t make me submissive, on the contrary it made me rebel even more. I am sure I quickly earned a reputation in the village. My mum too used to get the updates on me and my sister and she was told how terrible I was. Naturally, my grandma wanted us to leave as soon as possible. The feeling was clearly mutual.

You must understand and look in my perspective, once I was surrounded by love, care and attention by my mum, dad and other relatives. Even my half sister (she was the eldest of my dad’s children) gave me so much love. I changed when I was being bullied at the hands of my cousin’s friends and other relatives, and my sad experience in Guinea-Bissau only made things worse for me and I started to rebel. All these changes obviously had a negative effect and impact on me. I longed to see my mum and dad again.

At school, I became defiant which led to more trouble for me. Being defiant and stubborn sometimes wasn’t always a bad thing. I recall this memory fondly, so as you see, the culture in Guinea-Bissau not only you get beaten but you were also taught a lesson. My sister once wee in her bed, in the village, they were digging a hole for a well. My relatives as I can’t recall whose idea was it to place my sister in the hole as a punishment. When I saw that, I requested to go down the hole with her at once. My defiance including my stubbornness to not simply watch my sister helplessly looking up as well as being scared won over and was granted to go down and be with her. My persistance paid off. Remember I stated we were inseparable, so naturally I wanted to be right next to her.

As we were both looking up, we were exposed as the outsiders who got caught. At that moment, reality struck that we stood out and were not part of the village. Above us, people were chatting, laughing. I felt so exposed as if I was nude. Eventually we were brought up, but that memory of that day can’t be erased. I think the consequence was to prevent my sister to wee in her bed again. There are other consequences like this to scare children to not repeat things. I obviously never liked these procedures even today. It is fair to say, I never felt I belong in Guinea-Bissau and wanted to leave. Of course, I knew it wouldn’t be possible. In our recent conversations, I found out my dad left Portugal for Switzerland. All that was left was us, and we could be a family again. My mum always assured us she was finalising everything in order for us to go to Switzerland. At first, I believed her. As days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months and months turned to years, I was losing faith. I resigned that Guinea-Bissau was going to be my home for good. At first, I adapted to my frequent beatings as stubborn and defiant children including myself were subject to such treatment. Defeated, I became withdrawn at first, but slowly submissive. I wanted to ensure making life easier for myself was a priority.  I relented and made friends and to the delight of my grandmother started to do chores like the other girls my age. Of course, my personality took a dent, but I was occasionally rebellious to the chagrin of my grandmother.

One day, our mum called. She had great news, she told my grandmother she got tickets for us to leave Guinea-Bissau and she should get everything sorted for us to leave. I just taught it was a joke or a prank to uplift my mood. Nevertheless, I wanted to believe it so bad. Did my mum finally got us our ticket to freedom after 2 years of misery? Potentially tickets to the promised land of Switzerland?

I know what you must be thinking! You must be wondering, why am I talking about my background and not my experiences in Switzerland as promised? Well you will discover soon enough (in few posts) the importance of including my Portuguese background as it is crucial to understand fully how even Portuguese nationals were treated in Switzerland.

So, to return to my story, my mum was in search of a new life. As it turned out, Portugal was and still is, one of the best tourist destinations. Despite its extraordinarily rich history, Portugal is considered one of the poorest countries in Europe. An avalanche of Portuguese nationals were leaving Portugal to find a better life elsewhere, just like my mum. I found out many years later coincidentally, many Portuguese citizen went to Switzerland, especially to Geneva during the 80s around the same time my mum went there.

Before going to Switzerland, my mum went to France as her cousin and many other relatives lived there. Somehow, my mother wouldn’t stay in France very long. I am not sure the reason why she declined living in France, but I am certain it has to do with the limited opportunities as a black person in the 80s in France. Defeated, she resigned in returning to Portugal, but she received a lifeline which will transform our lives and surely guarantee to offer many opportunities. My auntie, my mum’s sister whom my mum worked for by looking after her nephews as well as cooking and cleaning, advised my mum to go to Switzerland as she had a relative or friend there. Without any delay, my mum left France, but in a few years’ time, after settling in Switzerland, France will be a country not only where we would visit often, but also a country which will play an important role for us. Therefore, France will be a country we will have a deep connection in many ways.  

The very first time my mum set foot in Switzerland, it was literally love at first sight. The beauty the country had to offer was a banquet which gave my mum a taste of what to expect. My mum could clearly sense the difference between Portugal and Switzerland almost immediately. The buildings, the clean streets, the transports and of course the delightful mountains. Meanwhile, as my mum was savouring what Switzerland had to offer, my dad who was an architect, was so busy working and didn’t have time to look after me and my sister. So, me and my sister were split with various relatives which did not please my mum as she always wanted us together. Of course, it was a decision taken out of her hands. At first, I went to live with my paternal grandmother, but due to her age, she couldn’t look after me full time. Instead, I went to my uncle’s house who was a dermatologist and looked after my skin ravaged by eczema. My sister went to an auntie and our babysitter as she was noticeably young, I think she was 1 or 2. Nevertheless, life changed for us so much. Especially for me, it changed in the worst and most brutal way.

My 4 cousins were way older than me, so frequently, their friends would visit, and many family relatives would visit my uncle’s house. I was always carefree, mischievous and forever full of beans. I expected to be the centre of attention since I was the youngest. Instead I was often bullied, and especially the boys (my cousin’s friends and relatives) would beat me up. I didn’t stand a chance. I was 3 and to top it off a girl. Despite the change of situation happening, something changed in me too. I became withdrawn, often when the whole family would gather in the living room, I was sat on the stairs, alone preferring my own company. I didn’t reveal to no one what was happening to me, I wouldn’t dare make things worse as I was threatened. Somehow, I didn’t cry nor show I was hurt and I kept what was happening a secret. Unwittingly, this horrific experience would shape up the person I would become in Switzerland. I kept on making sense of what was happening; one moment I was so happy with my parents and sister, life was so great, to now becoming withdrawn and unhappy. From the centre of attention, to being practically left aside like an old shoe. The thing is my uncle and auntie didn’t know what was happening right under their nose. I was bullied frequently, I kept thinking who would believe me? Quite simply, I was an easy and weak prey at the mercy of a hungry pack of wolves. This painful agony lasted a year, a long everlasting year.

 Finally, I was rescued. My mum arranged for me and my sister to go and live with my maternal grandma in Guinea-Bissau. I was so relieved to leave this year long nightmare behind. Unfortunately, my relief was short lived as my life in Guinea-Bissau would make this year long bullying like playfighting.