During the 60s and 70s, thousands of Ugandan and Kenyan Asians were expelled from their homes and left with nowhere to go. This is the remarkable story of how one family overcame unimaginable obstacles and social injustices as they started their new life in Kent.

Nearly 50 years ago, migrants living in Maidstone sat down and discussed the need for an Indian community to allow locals to get together to celebrate their culture and faith in their new home country.

Many of these people were third generation Africans whose families had lived in Kenya and Uganda for several decades. Their ancestors had been born in India during the British Raj, where the empire ruled the country from the 19th century to the mid 20th.

Wanting to expand their power in East Africa, the British sent labourers from the south Asian country to build railways in East Africa but upon construction completion, many ended up settling there for the chance of a better life.

Over the course of the following decade, people had established businesses and respectable positions within the community. Of these families were the Jethwas, who’s eldest son, Gokaldas would later found Maidstone’s Indian community.

Born into the British colony of Nairobi, he was hardworking like his shoemaker father, but more ambitious than the family business. He quickly excelled in his education and soon after got a job as a clerk.

However, as the second world war began, Gokaldas was enlisted in the East African military and he spent the next eight years dedicating his services as a mechanical clerk.

By his English superiors, he was regarded as “conscientious, loyal and intelligent” and his rise in rankings later saw him awarded the African Star and War Medal to commend his achievements.

Gokaldas was dismissed from the armed forces in 1948 and spent the following years focused on persuing his worklife and dedicating himself to his growing family. For the Jethwas, life in Kenya seemed happy and peaceful but this feeling was short-lived.

The war might have been over but another threat loomed.

A series of revolts and riots began to be incited by The Mau Mau, a black nationalist group who were growing frustrated over their lack of political power and retired white soldiers taking their land.

Reflecting back, Gokaldas' son, Jayant Jethwa, said: “There was a lot of crime, especially with tribal fights. Kenya was getting worse.”

As the violence escalated and the Empire struggled to sustain itself, the government declared a state of emergency in 1952.

After thousands of casualties, the British military operations ceased and by June 1963, Mau Mau leader, Jomo Kenyetta was sworn in as Kenya’s Prime Minister.

He ordered that the Indians should obtain Kenyan citizenship and replace their British passports over the next two years or restrictions on their living arrangements, business and other economic factors were to be imposed.

Similarly, in Uganda, following a military coup by Idi Amin, the country saw the African nationalist become Prime Minister in 1971. Under his tyranny, he ordered the expulsion of all Asians, giving them just 90 days to leave the country, leaving tens of thousands to abandon the only home they had known.

As India refused the stateless citizens, declaring that they did not belong to the country, thousands chose to start a new life in the UK.

Eager to see more than the brutality he was witnessing around him, Gokaldas’ eldest son, Kantilal left Kenya first.

With his cousin, Narshi, the pair hitch-hiked their way across the world. They stopped in Italy and then carried on to Germany where they stopped again.

There they worked in a garage as mechanics to earn some money, but the temporary break soon became permanent for Narshi, who fell in love and stayed behind to persue his future wife.

Kantial eventually arrived in England, alone to a house that his father had purchased from overseas. With the sucess of his eldest’s trip, Gokaldas fundend his next son, Jayant, to fly out to reside with his brother in Kent.

The following summer, their mother, Diwaliben reunited with her children, bringing with her twin sons, Chandrikant and Dinesh, and daughter Pravina. A year later, her final son, Rajnikant and her mother-in-law, Muribai had also moved to the UK.

Besides a now married Kantilal, the whole family moved into a larger house, in Mote Avenue by Mote Park, Maidstone, bought for them by Gokaldas as they awaited his arrival.

To fund his family to fly over to the UK one-by one, Gokaldas had stayed behind in Kenya for the decade to earn money and spent this time travelling and working across Zambia, Tanzania and Kenya.

After spending six years seperated from his wife and waiting to join her, in 1969, Gokaldas finally recieved a blue emigration stamp of approval on his passport and reunited with his family in Maidstone.

Upon his arrival, however, he would soon realise that the life they had once had was very different to Kenya.

His once traditional housewife was working in a cloth factory with other women being paid for cheap labour and his children would be shouted a tirade of racial abuse in the streets.

All the while, Conservative politician Enoch Powell was telling the nation that it “must be mad, literally mad” to allow the entrance of “commonwealth immigrants” and that it was “busily engaged in heaping up its own funeral pyre."

Regarding the attacks they would receive from people on the street, Gokaldas’ other son, Dinesh, said: “There were some good people, but a lot didn’t care.”

Migrating to another country is often seen as an opportunity for a new and better life, but for thousands of families like the Jethwas it was never a choice.

The change was not easy for those who had become accustomed to the strength and presence of Indian culture in Africa and so, a desire to bring that same support network and community to Kent was born.

Describing first moving over, Ugandan-born Indian, Prafula Vadher, said: “There weren’t many Indians. It was mainly just our family in the beginning."

Gokaldas’s sister-in-law, Chandrika Nagar explained: “Gokaldas thought that the Indians in Kent should do something for Navatri [a nine day hindu festival] so he talked to the others, Jayanti Chudasama, Babu Kesur, Jethalal Gohil and Mohan Parmar and they all got together to discuss it and that’s how it all started.

"It didn’t happen straight away, they had to talk to everyone else about it, then get permission from the council, find a hall and then also get permission from people living by the venue because of any noise."

Sadly, just a few years later, Gokaldas died and never had the opportunity to reap the rewards of everything he had started.

The community which was named the Shree Jansari Gnati Mandal Maidstone, took the founding members over a year to form and was made official in 1977.

"It was very hard to organise it all in those days. Trying to get everyone together back then was difficult. There weren’t any mobile phones, lots of people didn’t have landlines, some didn’t even have cars," said Chandrika.

In the beginning, the community was small and consisted of five committee members: Mohan as the president, Gokaldas the vice president, Jayanti the honoury secretary, Chottu Vadher the joint secretary and Babu the treasurer.

"Even with all of us together there were only a few people, we were a small group. Slowly from there more and more people joined and it grew," said Prafula who recollected how the community would get together in a small room at St Phillips Church by Hastings Road in its early days.

Back then, celebrating the Hindu festival of light, Diwali, required a lot of hands on help from each member to bring the event together.

"All the ladies would each cook a dish while the gents helped out with the rest and then between us we would get together and that’s how we would celebrate. We didn’t have any live music or anything. We had to do everything by ourselves," said Prafula.

Hina Nagar, who is now the committee president, said: "I remember when I got married and came here, they were still cooking for the whole community in garages. Then it was like ‘no, this is too much’, you know a whole day and pretty much through the night, we would cook for Diwali.

"I’m pretty sure they used to even go in person and deliver invites and make sure people were able to come because it was so small."

Now, the mandal's annual Diwali function is its most notable achievement. The catered event consists of fancy dress competitions, cultural dances, traditional live music and raffles. It draws so much attention that in the past, people wanting to attend had to be put on a waiting list.

"At first it was all family and about setting up support with the families who had just moved to this country but we’ve got a lot of people who are not just family in the community now," said Hina.

As it has grown over the past few decades, the community now consists of more than 300 members.

Maidstone also has sister mandals in London, Peterborough, Birmingham. Leicester, Loughborough and Blackburn whose presidents collaborate and communicate with one another.

Reflecting on being the head of Maidstone's mandal for the past six years, Hina said: "It’s a lot of responsibility and it’s a lot to take on but I’ve loved it. I love being a part of a community, I do. I love seeing everybody. We do so many special things.

"Now, it’s not so much about support. There is still that element because we still like to look after each other and make sure that our older and even younger people are looked after but I think it's now more the case of actually socialising and keeping those connections."

Each year, at Ditton Community Centre, the mandal hosts Navratri, a nine-day religious festival where members gather and reconnect amid the garba dancing and holy rituals.

In the past, the community have also hosted trips to a Mandir in Wales, days out to Chessington for the children, and celebratory dinner and dances to commemorate the community's anniversary.

However, following cancelled events from the pandemic, and generational gaps, the zeal of the community has begun to fade and Hina has expressed concern for its future.

Its survival lies in the hands of the younger, westernised generations, she says, who will now need to navigate the balance of faith, tradition and Indian culture with their British identities.

The current committee does now consist of a few young legacy members, who are the children and grandchildren of the original founding members, but it seems that more efforts are needed to see the return of the community's glory days.

"It would be so good to involve the younger generation because they’re input is what will keep us going.

"Rather than lose it all, they can keep this and hold onto some of their roots: that background, how we came to be here and those sacrifices that people have made," said Hina.