Will the Chagossians ever see their homeland again? One is now somewhat dubious about it. After all the trials and tribulations they have been through, seeing their island again would have been an emotional and very memorable moment. But it seems that a lot more obstacles lie ahead before boarding the ship that will take them there. For a second time, no vessel is ready to go. Another humiliation for them.

We had thought that the British authorities would have seized the opportunity to alleviate their ordeal. They have the means; the poor exiles who are longing to see their native land, maybe for the last time, do not.

It would have been a laudable gesture if the British had taken the initiative of ensuring that they go back to their lost paradise.

After all, the British have a big responsibility in what happened years ago, remember?

Hundreds of families, the old like the new-born were snatched from their native islands where they were living a peaceful life and packed aboard vessels of poor tonnage.

To go where? To nowhere. They were neither expected in Mauritius, nor welcome. No reception committee. They had a helping hand from other unfortunate people living in poverty-stricken suburbs who hosted them generously. But many died of sorrow and starvation.

The poor don?t have money but they are imaginative. ?Obligation fait loi,? say the French. They assist each other through what they call the solidarity chain. The only way to survive and to die. Because the exiles? relatives could not even afford their coffins.

Today, some of them have managed to get out of the ghettos and have found work. Some are still living in shanty-like but remarkably clean dwellings. Ohers have been given a British passport but still they are denied the right to work in the UK. So, how are they going to earn a living ? How to push forward in their new surroundings and manage to make just a tiny nest in the sun after having lost the one that shone brightly in their islands ?

For we know that life was cool over there. No rush, no stress. Both men and women worked in the coconut plantations. They used to extract the nut which was dried to give coprah for oil companies who exported it to Mauritius. The workers got up at dawn and after finishing their task, around noon, they could go fishing or feed their cattle and pigs. In the evening, they would sit around a wood fire and relate the events of the day. They would also chant their experiences in recitative songs. Life went on smoothly, like a tranquil river. And suddenly it came to a stop, like a nightmare. They were told that the Americans were arriving, that they had to pack their meagre belongings and leave.Many years have passed. They just want to go back down memory lane.

Will Great Britain show fairplay and do its best to let them pray for the last time at the tombs of their ancestors?