Displaced

"Exile is when your infant son does something special and you wish your mother had been there and not 12,000 miles away. It's hoping the friends you left behind don't regard you as a coward.

Exile is being angry with your country, but feeling uneasy about agreeing with foreigners' critisicms. It is always being an outsider.

It is praying that your son believes you when you tell him that it was for his future that you left.

It is being proud of your country, but hating those who have hijacked it. It is the pain of realising that your son won't have the carefree joys of a tropical childhood.

It's knowing that mangoes at Tesco's cost a darn site more than when you steal them from your neighbour's tree. It's the realisation that the tastiest pear is no match for a wild guava grabbed during an impromptu cowboys-and-indians escapade.

Exile is remembering the beautiful beaches but seeing the footprints of soldiers' boots. It is recalling the majestic mountains and remembering where the murderers hid out.

It is smiling at the memory of some little incident and fearing there will be no repeats.

Exile is wanting somehow to repay the limitless hospitality of your host and knowing you never will.

It is trying to explain that - despite the bloody evidence - there are civilised people there. It's trying to reconcile contrary images; the slogan - "the way the world should be" - against the bullet in the soldier's forehead.

Exile is images of thugs rampaging down the streets of your teenage indiscretions. It's the betrayal of discovering a good friend has made common cause with your tormentors. Exile is not being able to cry over your mother's coffin. It's realising that your letter got there after your brother died.

Exile is never being able to visit the graves of friends who stayed."

Could you tell us something about yourself?
I am a journalist and chief sub-editor at the Western Mail. I have previously worked in the print media in Fiji and the Pacific and freelance for radio and print media in Australia and Britain.

One of the first questions your story raises is why you left Fiji, can you talk about that?
Yes, my wife is British - and my son, so there are cultural reasons. But the first coup in 1987 was a very difficult time for journalists, economically and politically, I couldn't write what I wanted to or make a living. I actually returned to Fiji in December 1999 / January 2000 and it was a very emotional trip, finding out who had died in the intervening years. It's funny, I know a guy from Romford who's gone to make his life in Fiji and I've come here. I think I wanted to share my experience of exile with people, whether it's British people who've left this country, people who've been pushed out of their countries or just wanted to leave - or simply the resident population in my new home.

Your son features a lot in this story what's he doing now?
My son's studying his A-levels in Hengoed and yes, he finds himself very much at home in British culture. Although I have to say, we're both going to the Wales vs. Fiji match next month and we'll be supporting Fiji!

Your comments

"I am Vimal Madhavan's niece from Tracy, California - came across this great piece by accident while roaming the internet. I too miss the Fiji we knew. Much love, to you and your family." Rohini Shankar, May 2008.

"I have the pleasure of knowing Vimal and his wife - a work colleague. This story has given me a greater insight into Vimal, as a person with a worthwhile story not only told but also HEARD. " Darren Williams, Markham, Wales, Sept 2007.

"(It) helped me to understand the torment of 'exile' and the long term effects of being far from the place of your birth. This concept is alien to many of us in this country but is movingly encapsulated here in a way we can all begin to understand." Walter Brewster, Bridport, UK, Sept 2007.

"Really touches the heart strings this story. Made me think about asylum seekers in a brighter light. People like Vimal have made decisions that thankfully most of us will never have to make. " Philip Edwards, Groeswen, Wales. Sept 2007.