It might be helpful to start my story from the beginning.
I was born on the island of Cyprus in 1958. I was one of four siblings at that time. It was during a time of turmoil, unrest, upheaval and tragedy as it was during a civil war; the war of independence under the leadership of Arch Bishop Makarios to achieve independence as a republic from the UK sovereignty that had lasted for the previous 75 years.
The ‘Civil war’ was led by General Grivas who used guerrilla warfare to try and secure independence from the UK, but ultimately wanted to unite the Island with Greece.
History will inform us that ‘EOKA’ was the Greek Cypriot movement that was led by Grivas. Makarios was opposed to uniting with Greece as it was at that time governed by a military junta, so it would have gone from one ruler to another. Makarios led the island to obtain Independence and ultimately Cyprus became a Republic in 1960. Turkey was also involved to secure the safety of the Turkish Cypriot residents.
They were bitter and troubled times back then with many innocent citizens, from all sides, losing their lives. Even in the latter war in 1974 between mainland Turkey and mainland Greece many innocent Cypriot lives were once again lost in the plight for those nations to seek control of Cyprus. The island is still divided to this day. These major events in history seem largely forgotten by a majority of people.
Just to give you an idea of those troubled times during the 1955 -1960 civil war of independence, my Grandfather, my Mother’s father, was a sheep herder and he witnessed two UK soldiers been set upon by local villagers who were pro EOKA supporters.
My Grand Father, concerned for the welfare of the soldiers, took them back to their barracks in Dhekelia. Unfortunately one of the soldiers subsequently died. An investigation was conducted by the UK army to establish the facts. During this investigation my Grand Father was accused, by his own villagers, of being a collaborator and was subsequently hang, by them, from a tree.
My Grand Father was the father of 9 children, one of whom, as previously stated, was my Mother. When my Mother was 12, she unfortunately lost her Mother, who sadly died at the young age 35. This left my Mother, as the eldest daughter, to bring up her siblings with my Grand Father.
Such were the difficulties, during those times in the early 1940’s that my Mother’s youngest brother, who was only 18 months old, died of malnutrition.
After my Grand Father’s murder, my Father, having discovered the seven villagers that were involved in the hanging, tried to seek justice but unfortunately found resistance from the seven and the corrupt Police who turned a blind eye to the killing. Rather than assist, began to persecute my Father and our family claiming that my Grand Father committed suicide in remorse.
We were forced to leave the country as the persecution of my family became worse and more severe. My Father left Cyprus in 1962 as he felt that was the only way he could protect our family. He set up home (a one bedroom basement flat in Hackney in London) waiting for us to join him.
We finally joined him a year later. Even that posed some problems as I never had a birth certificate and my Mother, bless her, couldn’t remember my date of birth because of the trauma experienced. That is a story in itself that I will leave for another day.
Things, however, rather than improving seemed worse than what we had left behind as a different kind of persecution was apparent. We were in a foreign country. Racism was an everyday occurrence at that time. The fact we were different and had a foreign name compounded that perception. It was happening at school in my early years with the racist name calling and bullying. Some teachers turned a blind eye to it whilst others actually laughed at it. It appeared normal.
I remember one indecent at my local library; I was about 10 years old and some school friends and I wanted a library card to access the books and music, etc. I had to get my parents to fill in and sign the form and I knew this would be difficult as my parents couldn’t at that time read or write English so I suggested to them that I would fill in the form for them to sign, as by then I learnt the English language as much as I could learn at that age, as I was, by then, my parents main interpreter. Anyway I did this and returned to the library but my form wasn’t accepted as I had filled it in. I explained the situation but to no avail and an abrupt, “I am not the foreigner here” brought that situation to an end.
Racism, bullying and discrimination appeared rife in them days and sadly it came in all shapes and sizes. It was just the way things were, be it right or wrong.
I felt that my family, although discriminated against, were settling into our local community in Hackney. The one bedroom basement flat became congested with the addition of another sibling in 1966. There were now seven of us living there.
I also appreciate and respect that there were many families living in these types of conditions. That unfortunately, as we all know, continues today.
I made a concerted effort to try, achieve and make something of myself, but with a foreign name it was difficult as it was evident that foreigners were on the lower of end of the pecking order.
I did, however, attain O levels and CSE’s whilst at school and it allowed me to get employment in a shop fitting organisation. After a few years attaining further qualifications in the building trade I joined the Fire Service. A career, that I felt, would allow me to support others. The Fire Service in the early years appeared to be institutionalised racist. I also realised, promotion was not an option for me at that time as racism, bullying and discrimination were also evident at Senior Officer Level. Cronyism was rife. I felt I stood no chance.
I didn’t bother with promotion for a few years irrespective of how well I achieved in the theory and practical Fire Service examinations, as the final decision was always based on an interview in front of a Senior Officer panel.
Even when things started to change and equalities policies were introduced, the fact that I wasn’t visibly different, I was never considered to be a valid member of any minority group. Such was the narrow entrenched viewpoint at that time. Don’t get me wrong, as those who were visibly different had more than their fair share of racism, bullying and discrimination to contend with and deserved support and assistance.
I also recognised the firefighters who were malicious with their racist remarks and discrimination towards others had many underlying issues and I actually felt sorry for them. There were also those that were just having a laugh through what they perceived to be banter, as their way of inclusion, be it a misconception.
Please don’t read my story as somehow I am the victim, that is not case as I haven’t generally made my story public as I am always conscious of the atrocities around the world, where innocents lose their lives on a daily basis, used as pawns by the world powers to seek control. You only have to look at the troubles around the World where systematic genocide appears normal. Also the many that have suffered life changing trauma and those with learning difficulties that I have total admiration for. So my story when put into perspective may appear insignificant.
I don’t regret any of my 30 year Fire Service career as I like to believe that I made a significant difference within and to the wider community. Within the service I was finally promoted to an Assistant Divisional Officer that came with its high level of responsibility. I met many fire service personnel up and down the country as I worked at national level within the Fire Brigade Union. I found them to be considerate, caring and compassionate and seemed to act with integrity. These traits were in most cases part of the makeup of firefighters, it’s what made us good at our jobs.
During my life and career I have met many people who didn’t have hidden agendas or ulterior motives, they were just genuinely nice people, polite, good mannered, honest and compassionate. Even several of the Senior Officers within the Fire Service were very much like this. There was something different within their makeup that was inspiring.
I was later to discover that Freemasonry seemed to be the common denominator as those within the order always appeared to act with integrity. I was intrigued, so much so that on discovery of a few within the service, my wife and I were invited to our first Ladies Night. It was a splendid occasion and thoroughly enjoyable. I soon discovered that there were many Masons that were old colleagues and friends that I grew up with and all appeared like minded in how they conducted their everyday lives, non judgemental, open minded and inclusive.
As a result in January 1988, I was initiated into the Corinthian Lodge at Halsey Hall, Cheshunt and have never looked back. I rekindled old friendships from those that I thought I would not see again. Surprises were, in the early days, very normal. I also joined the Othello Lodge in Cyprus, under the English Constitution, as some of my relatives were members. Such was the connection through Freemasonry.
Freemasonry has taught me that there is good in this world amidst of all hardship and trauma. Those Principles that we have all come to cherish dictate how we should all live our lives in the quest for peace, tranquillity and for the good of others with the magnitude of charitable donations.
I was finally with a group of ‘Brothers’ who were like minded, very inspiring with some of their stories and who were there to help and assist those in need throughout the world, something that I had always tried to promote and achieve throughout my life.
Masonry became infectious for the right reasons and as a result I became a founder member of many lodges and joined many different orders. I was also instrumental in the early consultation process of the purchase of the High Reach Aerial Ladder Service vehicles bought by members of the Metropolitan Grand Lodge following the Grenfell Fire.
I would like to think that I have made a difference and my family and I have become integrated members of society as opposed to those foreigners with the foreign name.
A personal story by
Pantelis Poullais
