“If I get rid of my patois, who would I be?”
Derrick Gayle was born in Jamaica in 1954. Around the age of 14 in 1968, he travelled to Britain to live with his mother and stepfather in England. Later, he settled in Wales.
“My grandmother was my mother all my life…There was nothing there to say ‘I remember you’… I can’t say I remember her at all before I came to England, say, 14, 15. This was the first time we met so you can imagine it was hard to settle in the house…”
“I was just cold, cold cold… for six months I had all these football scarves around me, I had chilblains when I was a kid, but every time my mum turned her back… I sat in front of fire, otherwise, ‘Let the heat spread’.”
“We were innocent…we were young Black kids and the racist vibes then were, well, ‘Rivers of Blood’ by Enoch Powell. He was the man who actually went to the Caribbean and start recruiting West Indian people to come to England. The racist thing was… this was back in 1975, we’d been in the country less than five years…”
“Outside of Wolverhampton… you get to a certain part of the town, they stone the bus, especially if they see a Black man: ‘Ah get them n***rs’.”
“They had one intention, earn money… once I came to live in Cardiff… there is a few people I know from back then who died or got killed… because of certain things that happened, that’s how it was [at] that time…”
“You’ve got to keep part of your culture. And that’s why I respect the Welsh speaking people, I know a few of them and they are top people, they got different way of thinking…”
“Pe bawn i’n cael gwared ar fy nhafodiaith, pwy fuaswn i wedyn?”
Ganed Derrick Gayle yn Jamaica yn 1954. Pan roedd yn tua 14 mlwydd oed yn 1968, fe deithiodd i Brydain i fyw gyda’i fam a’i lystad yn Lloegr. Ymgartrefodd yng Nghymru yn nes ymlaen.
“Fy nain oedd fy mam ar hyd fy oes... Doedd yna ddim byd yno i ddweud ‘rwy’n dy gofio di’... allaf i ddim dweud ’mod i’n ei chofio hi o gwbl cyn imi ddod i Loegr, pan roeddwn i’n tua 14, 15 oed. Dyma’r tro cyntaf inni gyfarfod, felly gallwch ddychmygu ei bod yn anodd imi setlo yn y tŷ...”
“Roeddwn i mor oer, oer, oer... am chwe mis, roeddwn i wedi fy lapio mewn llwyth o sgarffiau pêl-droed, roedd gen i falaith oerni pan roeddwn i’n blentyn, ond troi ei chefn wnaeth mam bob tro... eisteddais o flaen y tân, fel arall ‘gadael i’r gwres ledaenu’.”
“Roedden ni’n ddiniwed... plant Duon ifanc oedden ni ac roedd y naws hiliol bryd hynny yn, wel, ‘Rivers of Blood’ Enoch Powell, fe oedd y gŵr a aeth i’r Caribî a dechrau recriwtio pobl o India’r Gorllewin i ddod i Loegr. Y peth a oedd yn hiliol oedd... roedd hyn yn ôl yn 1975, roedden ni wedi bod yn y wlad ers llai na phum mlynedd...”
“Y tu allan i Wolverhampton... wrth gyrraedd rhyw ran arbennig o’r dref, roedden nhw’n taflu cerrig at y bws, yn enwedig pan oedden nhw’n gweld dyn Du: ‘Ah, get them n***rs’.”
“Roedd ganddyn nhw un nod, ennill arian... unwaith y dois i fyw yng Nghaerdydd... mae ambell un roeddwn i’n ei adnabod bryd hynny a fu farw neu a gafodd ei ladd... oherwydd bod rhywbeth neu’i gilydd wedi digwydd, dyna sut roedd pethau’r dyddiau hynny...”
“Mae’n rhaid ichi ddal gafael ar ran o’ch diwylliant. A dyna pam rwy’n parchu’r bobl sy’n siarad Cymraeg, rwy’n adnabod ambell un ac maen nhw’n bobl wych, mae eu ffordd nhw o feddwl yn wahanol...”