WHEN HOME FEELS FOREIGN: A VANISHING YESTERDAY....

 

      Europe's borders are currently experiencing an unprecedented influx of migrants—individuals compelled by necessity to seek new opportunities. It is difficult not to feel sympathy for these men and women, to marvel at their extraordinary courage as they endure the relentless dust and scorching heat of the desert, only to face the unyielding hostility of the sea—a sea that rises against them with the fury of Poseidon himself. Their journey is one of unrelenting peril. The desert does not rest; the sea does not relent. For those who endure and arrive, integration often begins as a triumph. Yet there lingers an undercurrent of unease.

    Recently, a growing chorus of anxious voices in the United Kingdom has lamented that their culture is slipping away. It is easy to understand the apprehension fuelling these anxieties. After all, the story of immigration has long been one of adaptation, of cultures fusing, blending, and at times, clashing. Those who once sought refuge in the country's hospitality now work tirelessly to rebuild their lives, bringing with them their own cultures, which are gradually overshadowing the traditions they found. Would this have been the case a century ago, when our ancestors were dragged to foreign shores? It is hard to comprehend the reversal, though the motivations are clear enough. Survival today is shaped by desperation—the hope for something better, even if the journey demands everything.

When Langston Hughes wrote his poem "I, Too," he declared:

"I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
‘Eat in the kitchen,’
Then.

Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—

I, too, am America."

    Perhaps we have eaten too well in the kitchen. The growth Hughes envisioned may have come to pass, but in our eager scramble for a seat at the table, we’ve managed to lose all sense of rootedness. Nostalgia for our heritage is fading; the younger generation is busy looking outward, chasing excitement and novelty, while the richness of our culture gradually becomes something "too old-fashioned" to bother with. Sure, exposure to the world is great, but should we really just forget about home and its traditions in the process?

    Andrew Tate, the controversial Anglo-American social media personality, entrepreneur, and former professional kickboxer, has recently announced his intention to stand for the position of Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. The vehicle for this improbable bid is his newly founded political party, which he has christened ‘BRUV’—an acronym for ‘Britain Restoring Underlying Values.’ Tate’s rhetoric draws heavily on the revivalist ethos popularised by Donald Trump’s "Make America Great Again" campaign, positioning himself as the antidote to what he perceives as Britain's cultural decline. Whether this declaration amounts to mere posturing or signals a genuine political ambition remains to be seen. Yet Tate has already garnered a measure of admiration from those who share his conviction that Britain must safeguard its traditional identity. The idea that the UK requires a figurehead to "restore greatness" reflects deeper concerns about cultural preservation amid the growing influence of foreign cultures. However, for many, the question lingers: is Tate serious, or is this merely another chapter in the theatre of his self-promotion? He recently took to Twitter with a bold statement, presenting a firm stance on immigration and cultural assimilation. His remarks serve not only as a critique of multiculturalism but also as a call to return to what he perceives as the core values of Britain. Tate's message was clear and unambiguous:

"In majority Filipino areas of the UK it must look and feel BRITISH.
In majority Indian areas of the UK it must look and feel BRITISH.
In majority Jewish areas of the UK it must look and feel BRITISH.
In majority African areas of the UK it must look and feel BRITISH.
Immigrate? Expect to adapt to British culture.
No matter how small the norm.
We like quiet Sunday mornings.
Problem? Leave.
You respect British culture, standards of hygiene, and social norms. You operate within our parameters.
Multiple complaints of the contrary? Visa revoked.
You do not bring your own culture.
Your culture already has a home.
Ours does too, and it is Great Britain.
If you miss the culture of your host nation,
Go home..."

    Tate’s divisive rhetoric underscores a broader question: To what extent is cultural integration a necessity of national identity? And when does the preservation of that identity risk becoming an exclusionary force? His call for immigrants to "adapt" to British culture, as if such a thing were a monolith, erases the historical reality that Britain, like all nations, has been shaped by the mingling of diverse peoples. The nostalgia for a Britain "untouched" by foreign influence is, in some ways, a nostalgia for a past that never truly existed. The truth is that Britain’s greatness is defined by its diversity, by the exchange of ideas, and by the mutual influence of cultures.

    In this, the challenge we face is not merely about balancing nostalgia for the past with the demands of the present. It is about navigating the complexities of a shared future in which identities are constantly being redefined. We must ask ourselves whether we can preserve the best of our traditions—whether they are British, African, or anything in between—while still forging a future that is both inclusive and rooted in mutual respect. To belong, in the truest sense, may not require the erasure of our differences, but rather the embrace of what we can learn from one another.

    In the end, the reason many seek to leave their homes is not only for better opportunities, but because the very leaders we've placed in power have lost sight of the meaning of home. They’ve become so focused on global ambitions and external success that they’ve neglected the needs of their own people—the ones who, through generations, have given life to the culture, traditions, and values that once defined us. As opportunities slip away from those left behind, many are forced to seek new places where they believe they might find what was lost—a sense of belonging, stability, and purpose. But how did we come to this? How did we allow those entrusted with our future to so utterly forget the very essence of what makes a home worth staying for?

Hemen A. Emmanuel O.S.A

Colegio Mayor Mendel. C. del Rector Royo-Villanova, 6, Moncloa - Aravaca, 28040 Madrid

Madrid, España.