MRS NINA NEOPHYTOU

I was born in Aradippou on 22 January 1934. At the relatively young age of 17 and, for admittedly financial reasons, I decided to leave Cyprus and emigrate to the UK. Stories were floating around of how wonderful things were over here and that “money was growing on trees”. At the time I imagined London as being a place where people looked and behaved differently, who kiss each other in the streets and where the shops, twelve months a year, sell bananas, apples and pears that simply have a funny smell. I came here initially for a holiday. That was 55 years ago.

From Larnaca, I boarded the ‘ Ambazia’; it looked a massive ship. The first stop, after four or five days, was Venice. However, there were no trains available to take us to the next stage of our journey. They herded us like sheep into a large school and we slept there on the desks for two nights. What an experience! Finally we boarded a train, and then took a ferry boat and then another train to Victoria Station. Waiting for me was my dear uncle in whose house I stayed. The date of arrival was June 1951.

My impressions of London were not at all good. Soon however, I got used to the conditions and of course the weather. What can I say “it was very, very cold”. I was also in employment now and money was coming in. My first job in South London was at a laundry in Peckham pressing clothes. The take home pay was very poor. In order to save a few pounds I used to get out at a station before my final destination and I usually ate only potato sandwiches. Things at the time were very difficult. I have to admit that I did not have an overcoat. A lady friend of mine gave me one of hers but later my uncle contributed £3 towards the cost of a new one which I wore only on Sundays. It cost £6. Socialising was out of question although my uncle took me to several Cypriot functions.

After a few months I found work as a machinist in Warren Street. The pay was £4 per week. The journey from my house however, was not an easy one. On my first day there I was taken by my auntie, but on the following day I ventured to go there by myself. I got lost twice on the same day. It was frightening. Luckily, I had an ID card with me and with the help of a very nice police officer I managed, several hours later, to get home. We had to overcome major hurdles: the language and the currency were different and of course the long dark wintry months certainly needed getting used to. Nikos, my future husband soon joined me in London. We were engaged “in absentia”- I was in London and he was in Cyprus. I remember to this day a Christmas card sent to me by my fiancé. It read: “When I saw this card covered with beautiful white doves, green flowers and a silvery heart, I thought and thought of you.  I cried my darling Nina and asked ‘why must you be away from me?’ I wish you many and very happy years, your fiancé Nikos Neophytou. With all my love.”

I was overtaken by emotion.  I longed to be with him for he was certainly an honourable man.  I knew Nikos from back home.  I was very friendly with his ever-remembered sister Christoulla.  Also my father-in-law is the brother of my godfather.  My godfather, who originates from another village, married in Aradippou and it was he who acted as the go-between, the ‘proxenitis’ or marriage arranger.

Nikos joined me in January 1953. We married at All Saints Church, Camden Town. We had five ‘koumbarous’ and as chance would have it, five ‘koumeres’ in fact, bridesmaids. The reception took place at a small restaurant called ‘Olympic’, close to Warren Street. We had around thirty guests. Although we all had a nice time we were both pensive, we were not at ease, because our parents were not with us to share such a memorable occasion. We were poor and we simply could not afford to send them the necessary travel documents to come over from Cyprus.

Our marriage brought us two boys and a girl. I worked as a machinist for many years. My husband found a job in a restaurant near Piccadilly Circus, although later he was employed at a chocolate factory. We worked very hard but especially so when we opened our fish and chip shop, which we had for many years. Here we had a lot of help from our children. It was what I call “rewarding” work.

We always yearned to go back to Cyprus and we nearly did on several occasions. My daughter, son in-law and their three children were already there, but when my loving daughter died that yearning suddenly disappeared.  I remember the date very well.  It was 13 August 2004. She was socialising with her friend but suddenly she suffered a fatal heart attack. Since then my life has “evaporated”. Yet life has to go on. I still have a loving husband two children and eight grandchildren.