Camalita Naicker, The Con
I am an African. A South
African Indian to be more precise. A few years ago, after much research and
determination, my father, almost 60 years old at the time, managed to locate
the indenture number of one of his maternal grandmothers. This identification
number, given to indentured labourers who boarded ships to work in the
sugarcane fields of the British colony of Natal in south-eastern Africa in the
1860s, allows one, who is lucky enough to find it, to trace the village where
an ancestor came from, and the port at which she must have left her homeland.
The village was in a rural area near Madras.