Indian Arrival Day, May 5: May I ask for a moment of silence, please?

Thank you for sharing a moment of silence with me, for those Indians who left India every year from 1838 to 1917 and never arrived in British Guiana; for those Indians who arrived, worked and died on the pitiful plantations; and for those Indians who died on their journey back to India. I am hoping that, on May 5, a whistle would be sounded throughout this land, or at least where Indians first landed, to signal the solemn memories of Indians.
This year, 2017, marks one hundred and seventy-nine years of Indian presence in Guyana. Of an estimated 238,909 brought to British Guiana, 165,000 stayed; 75,000 returned, and 8,000 returned to British Guiana for the second time under contract. Using conservative estimates, at least 30,000 perished during indentureship, including in the sea voyage; the floating prison known as the Kala Pani. Women comprised about 25 percent of the immigrants, while an estimated 70 percent were low caste Hindus, 16 percent were Muslims, and about 8 percent were Madrassis, South Indians.
An estimated 10 percent of the immigrants had unsound minds but made it through the indentured immigration gates in India; this percentage tripled every passing year during indentureship, and every year on the return journey. Insanity, vagrancy and begging were common features during indentureship, but were never addressed seriously.
Undoubtedly, Indian Arrival Day means many different things to different people; but the usual is the celebration of history, sacrifice, and achievements alongside challenges of recognition and survival in a race-driven, multi-ethnic Guyana. For me, Indian Arrival Day means all the above, but one more blood-boiling feeling; that is, the compensation for wrongs my ancestors endured during indentureship.
My hope here is that the national Government of Guyana, the Indian and British High Commissioners in Guyana, as well as the members in the conflated Commission of Inquiry on Land Rights would pay attention. It is simply absurd to conclude that the Indian indenture system was smooth sailing. Indians, too, are looking into ways to right a historical wrong, some of which I will address here and in upcoming columns. Our concerns must be heard in order to embrace social cohesion. This is not only an option, but an unavoidable reality. Many wrongs occurred during the indentureship period. One is that, when Indians left their homeland, they signed contracts that guaranteed their savings or remittances or movable properties would be sent to their heirs should they die in British Guiana. This regulation was not carried out, as expected. According to colonial officials, the above regulation was not carried out because the names of the payees in India and British Guiana were often misspelled, and heirs were difficult to trace because of death or migration. That might have been the case, but the point remains that unclaimed remittances belonged to indentured servants and the descendants of indentured servants, and not to the colonial government. I will repeat this statement as long as I am breathing.
The colonial records show, for example, in the early 1880s in British Guiana, 81 heirs were not traced and 46 were not identified, which meant about £5000 went back to the colonial bank. Interestingly, too, is that at any time during indentureship, more heirs were not traced or identified. I would argue — based on available statistics so far on British Guiana only — that an estimated £80,000 went unclaimed; which is equivalent to at least about half of a million pounds, excluding interest, in modern times. This is a conservative estimate, and if Trinidad, Suriname and other islands that received indentured Indians are included, the figure would obviously be substantially higher, in the millions of dollars.
I am also concerned about the breach of contract in regard to return passages. One clause in the contract Indians signed in India to labour in British Guiana stated that they would be given a free return passage to their homes in India when their contracts expired. By the 1880s, time-expired indentured servants had to contribute to the cost of their return passages. Males contributed one-third of the cost, while females contributed a quarter. The cost of one return passage was £10 or $48. It is important to understand that indentured servants were making 24 cent per day, and, in reality, their contribution to the cost of their return passage was equivalent to their yearly earnings.
The situation is worse when considering that about a quarter of the returnees went back with no savings at all, but they had to contribute to the cost of their return passage. Moreover, many intending returnees signed up to go back to India, but when the time came, many simply abandoned the idea of returning. Their return passages were not returned to them. What happened to their return passages? In an attempt to prune cost and avoid the financial obligation of the return passage, the colonial authorities encouraged Indians to settle in British Guiana in lieu of their return passages. Five to ten acres of land were given them for £10. While the lands given were problem-oriented: infertile, poor drainage, far from Indian communities, and so forth, some Indians accepted land, but others gave up their return passages but never received land, a double-loss.
To be continued ([email protected]).