Those pesky immigrants …


A few week’s back, I was in a cab, trying to get a cat to the vet.  My road is tiny and should really be one-way but instead the powers that be decided it needed to be two-way.  The road was blocked by a guy in a car, just idling in the middle of the road.  We stopped, waited a bit and then I poked my head out of the window and asked whether he could move to the side of the road as we wanted to get past.  It is important to note that I was very polite.

His passenger got out of the car and continued to talk to him through the window.  I guessed that they hadn’t heard me, so I asked my taxi driver to hoot.  He did, a quick  parp on the horn.  The passenger finished talking, walked across the road and the driver of the vehicle drove up to us, told my driver he was a Paki cunt and spat in his face.  I yelled and he drove off.  My poor taxi driver was left with a face full of this guys’ spit.  The passenger looked on horrified as my driver got out of the car, himself yelling.

I asked the passenger whether the bloke was one of his friends.  He said, no he was a client.  Turns out the passenger runs the garage opposite.  I had given my cabbie some tissues for his face and we continued on our journey.  My cabbie was as mad as hell – he wasn’t from Pakistan for a start, this was about the third time he had been racially abused in a week and he had had enough.  As we drove along, he calmed down and apologised.  I told him he had nothing to apologise for.  He said “I must say sorry for calling that gentleman a ‘ignorant white cunt'”.  I said no, that was a pretty good description and I certainly wasn’t offended.  He had after all, after no more provocation than me asking him to please move to the side of the road, where incidentally there had been plenty of space and after a quick toot on the horn, decided that this was worth spitting on someone, calling them by a very offensive racial term and was coward enough to drive off when he saw the driver get out.

When I got back from the vet’s I went to the garage and spoke to the owner.  He did not want to give me the guy’s name as apparently he is violent, unstable and linked to organised crime.  All the more reason for standing up to him is my view but I got nowhere.

This is the second assault I have seen whilst being a passenger in a car, the first some years back, definitely racially motivated (racists seem to use the Paki insult for anyone with Asian or Middle Eastern features, no matter how remote) and more serious, with my driver actually injured.  Both of these occurred in my road, one in broad daylight, one at night.  The second was well executed and seemed planned (they put their hazard lights on and sat in the middle of the road, with one guy standing outside the car).  He waited until my driver had wound down his window and asked if he needed help before opening his door, kicking him in the face and chest, calling him the usual offensive term, with the other four guys getting out of the car once my driver was immobilised with pain.

I don’t think they realised I was in the back seat.  They made a very quick entry back in their car and drove off when I got out of the car with a pen, yelling at them and writing their number plate on my leg.

The driver refused to press charges as he was afraid for his family’s safety.

Both these drivers are educated.  They are kind, have gone the extra mile to help me on a number of occasions, are polite and respectful.  They have values and morals, much more than the scum who attacked them.

I saw my most recent driver today.  He was angry and asked me why British people hated him.  You see, he had been the victim of yet another attack.  Early yesterday morning, he had picked up a fare (these are booked fares by the way, not street pickups), who started yelling at him about how he was taking English people’s jobs, who asked him whether he wanted a fight and when he remained silent, asked him if he thought he was hard, drew out a knife and tried to stab him.

He dove out of the car, grabbed a spanner he kept in his toolbox in the boot and saw the man off with it.

He told me that he wasn’t an economic migrant.  His family are quite well off in Afghanistan.  They have properties and cars and a good lifestyle.  He however wanted to make his own way in the world.  He has been here eight years and had put himself through college to get a retail qualification but can’t get a job in retail.  He is cabbing until something comes up.

He asked what would happen to the British economy if all the immigrants left.  He said who would look after their drunken daughters (a few days ago he rescued a girl who had run out of a house drunk as a skunk, with just a pair of boxers on, having been caught in bed with someone she shouldn’t and took her home), who would pick the fruit when migrants went home because they were abused?  Who would work in the factories?  Who would clean the leaves off the streets and pick up the rubbish?

The sad thing is, he has had enough.  He once wanted to settle here – he loves the English countryside and the way the weather is different from back home.  He asked me why English people hate foreigners but are happy to go on foreign holidays?  He said the world belongs to all of us, not just a few.

He is now so disenchanted he said he will work here until he has made his money and then he is going to settle somewhere else where he feels he can raise a family in safety.

He is right of course.  And you know what, I would much rather have 10 of these guys than 1 of the racist bastards who delight in attacking them.

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About titflasher

Writer, blogger, animal activist, people activist, dream-catcher maker, mommy to 9 cats and a roving band of foxes ... Blog name comes from my father's suggestion for the title of my autobiography ... after my mother's and my awful habit of flashing whenever the security police took our photo in the dark old days of apartheid South Africa. I love nature, including creepy crawlies and people, find life fascinating and frustrating and have two terrible weaknesses - nictotine and animals in distress ... can't abide the latter situation and can't give up the former. I'm Pagan but not anti-Christian, funny but quite serious, light-hearted but can be annoying. I am warm-hearted until someone p*sses on me too much, then I get soggy and even. Feel free to link me but all the words on these pages is copyrighted, so copy it and take the credit and I will find you and slap you upside the head, hard. The blog is probably best read via category as there is loads on here already, and I just got started :-)
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