“One ever feels his two-ness, — an American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body.”
Thursday 8 September, 2022
I’m just about to leave my hotel room to walk for about 15 minutes to Old Trafford to watch my team – Manchester United take on Spain’s Real Sociedad. I get a notification on my phone from The Guardian announcing the Queen’s death.
As soon as I step outside I call my friend, Ace, to break the news and also ask him to confirm ASAP when the Warrant Officers & Sergeants’ Mess at the Dalton Barracks in Abingdon, Oxfordshire, is cancelled. Sergeant Ace has invited me as his guest to the event that’s supposed to be held on Saturday. I’m really looking forward to it! I’ve already booked train tickets to Didcot, the nearest town to Abingdon, where Ace always picks me up. Probably, he tells me, it’s going to be cancelled.
I understand the significance of the Queen’s death and how the monarchy is intertwined with the British army. Actually, the Queen was head of the armed forces.
Although I waited unti Ace confirmed, I cancelled my train booking and endured the £10 cancellation fee.
About two days later, when talking to my mother over the phone, I reminded her of the Queen’s death. She responded by saying when she first learned that the monarch has passed she wondered why I didn’t break the news to her!
My mother’s enthusiasm and her affection for the Queen & the royal family, reminded me of one Saturday noon in 1997, in our sitting room, just after we came from church. I have a fond memory of mama with her children: my sister, my brother and me, and our father in the background, as we were all glued to the TV watching Princess Diana’s well rehearsed funeral.
It’s important to point out that TV and radio were strictly prohibited on Sabbath at home, unless it was, perhaps, music from church.
On Wednesday 14th 2022, I left home around midday and got back just after 10pm. From 2pm until just after 8pm, I was in the queue to see the Queen’s coffin lying-in-state. In the queue, audio-recording me, a reporter asked if I was “excited”. I responded by saying “excited” is not the right word, but rather mixed feelings. Especially that I come from Botswana (a former British colony).
Why am I telling you about my Manchester trip, the British Army Mess, I was supposed to attend, the church, Princess Diana’s funeral I watched live with my family and the Queen’s death? I think to demonstrate the dilemma of reconciling Black identity with British (western) identity. Is this the two-ness the great W.E.B. Du Bois theorised as “double consciousness”?
It’s not up for debate how ‘Her Majesty’s government’ shaped the world today. From the joy Manchester United gives me to the reasons I find myself living in London and the pain and anger me and people like me were and continue to be subjected to at the hands of Britain’s violent empire.
Blessing Kgosi e tsile Kgasa 