The phrase “Colour of my skin” has lived within Kushy’s family. It began with Kushy Singh’s grandfather, Juginder Singh, a hardworking man who arrived in the UK in the early 1940s as a two year old child. By the 1970s, he had built a small but thriving haulage firm and had earned a strong reputation for honesty, reliability, and excellence in his work.
Much of his business came from the local council, and his success continued until one day his main council contact, a man who respected and believed in him. He told my grandfather he was retiring. He also warned him gently that his retirement would bring challenges. His exact words were:
“Once I retire, things will be different for you, Juginder.”
My grandfather, puzzled, asked why. The reply was direct and devastating:
“Because of the colour of your skin. They don’t like you, Juginder.”
My father, only 11 years old at the time, stood beside him during this conversation. He could not understand how the colour of our skin had anything to do with my grandfather’s ability to work, provide, or succeed. But the warning came true. As soon as the manager retired, my grandfather faced severe prejudice. Almost overnight, the council terminated his contracts.
The financial impact was heavy, but the emotional impact was worse. Our family learned firsthand how deeply racism can damage lives and opportunities. From that moment on, the phrase “colour of my skin” echoed through our home, not as a burden, but as a reminder of what must change.
Another tragedy deepens our connection to this cause. In 1997, in Manchester, Vijay Singh, a 13 year old boy from the Sikh community and a talented aspiring footballer, took his own life after enduring racist bullying about his appearance and skin colour. He left behind a heartbreaking poem describing his final days and ended with the word “freedom” on the day he died.
His story represents countless unheard voices – young people whose dreams are stolen by racism, exclusion, and cruelty.
These experiences form the heart of Colour of My Skin (COMS).
They are the reason we exist.
They are why we fight for acceptance, understanding, and justice.
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