On the tube I looked around, knowing I was in a tiny minority. So few indigenous British people, if any, apart from me. We are all human, all on our way to work, same problems, bills, worries. But still, I feel resentful sometimes. The old familiarity has gone.

The destruction of the English language, the undermining of our values and law, the lost generations – with no future or direction or belief. The useless feeling of many young white men. The confusion, the gang warfare. The left wing bias and hatred of anything British. The removal of our statues and changing of our history. Guilt inflicted on us for things we were never part of. The hatred of all things we love. Each day more news of things that must be wiped out or forgotten, or to apologise or appease for. Nothing we did in the world had any worth apparently, and caused only damage and distress.

Multiculturalism and diversity is promoted as good. Those who bring it are doing us a favour, we are told. Anything that wipes out our history, our past, any sense of patriotism or pride in who we are, any attempt to define our identity is racist. New ideas on how to oppress the white British appear regularly. When we rebel, such as the vote for Brexit, it is because we are xenophobic! And anyone that has come here to live because they like the British way of life and hates the destruction of it is made to feel foolish. As one of my friends who came from the Commonwealth told me ‘Are we living in Immigrant City now?’ – such is the feeling of being overwhelmed and overcrowded where we live. It’s at the point where everyone assumes that everyone else is from ‘somewhere else’ such is the lack of English people anywhere at all, locally.

The film ‘Invasion of the Bodysnatchers’ springs to mind as I look around for people of my own ancestry. A friend working in my local supermarket asked whether Indians were indeed the new Anglo Saxons. They were polite, friendly and respectable, and there were a steady stream all day. Perfectly nice. But where were the original British people … noticeable by our absence …

If you are in England should you not expect to see English people? And hear the English language – with an English accent? What we are expected to adjust to, and in such a short timespan, amazes me. Surely this must be the worst case of voluntary genocide we have ever seen! Or perhaps it is just as common in Europe, I don’t know. In just 2 or 3 generations we have seen whole swathes of our country become unrecognisable. British people and the English language are a minority. Had we been asked before this happened most of us would have declined the offer to have our country and culture so irrevocably changed. What shocks me is the speed. It seems to change in blocks – drifting for awhile and then suddenly another change and it all speeds up.

My local Indian owned shop now stocks lots of Romanian food alongside Indian food. The labels are all Romanian. I was shocked on popping in after a long time and couldn’t understand anything that was staring back at me from the shelves. The shopkeeper didn’t know either – he merely ordered what the newcomers told him they would buy. I realised I was the odd one out – not them – and swore to never enter that shop again. I was a stranger in my own land – which indeed I often am these days. If it wasn’t for the familiarity of the buildings and street names I would wonder where on earth I am.

It’s not just the overcrowding, pressure on infrastructure, building to accommodate newcomers, traffic jams, queues, the crush on the tube… it’s that many places no longer feel British at all. Many people don’t even bother to speak English – such are the high numbers speaking their own language that there is no need. A trip to the local hospital A&E or school playground, on the tube or to the town centre on a Saturday makes it clear that our future in London, and perhaps your city too, is definitely not British. We have people here from every part of the world – I cannot fathom why or how they get here.

We know why they are enabled to do so of course – by government and big business – to supply a constant stream of cheap labour to replace us, the demanding indigenous population who wanted decent wages, homes, a vote, education, healthcare, and a voice – so we must be quelled and beaten back into submission. But why are people from Russia and Brazil here for instance? What connection do they have to us? They are neither commonwealth nor EU, but somehow saunter over the border into our society. I cannot get to the bottom of it.

While we are told not to value our way of life, culture, language, customs, our people or even our laws, there are plenty from abroad who do value it, want to be a part of it and take full advantage. Who can blame them? It isn’t their fault at all, they are encouraged by our very own establishment. Some have asked me in wonderment just why it’s so easy to access everything we have worked and fought for, sometimes jumping the queue over us. Swathes of council flats across our country rammed with people from all over the world… why? Is it a London thing? No. A city thing? Perhaps…

Like many British, I’ve always been interested in food, culture and languages from around the world. I’ve travelled. I have friends from different backgrounds. London has always been ‘cosmopolitan’ since I was born. I’m no shrinking violet when it comes to living alongside other cultures. But this is different, it feels like annihilation, complete oppression and submission. If we don’t stop soon, there will be nothing left. And right now we are on an express train to oblivion.

And when it has all gone, and we or our descendants look back, will we feel just nostalgic and sad, or will we feel anger? You decide … But I, along with many others, am already there …


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