On April 28, we brought to you the story of Naren Prasad, who went through an arduous journey to find his ancestral roots tucked away in a tiny village in Uttar Pradesh, India.
Mr Prasad managed to track his maternal great-grandfather Bhagwan through an Emigration Pass issued in 1907 in Calcutta.
Together with his friend Dheeraj, they set out to find the village when he was in India this year. And what happened upon his arrival would go on to change his life.
“As we entered the village, a crowd had gathered: elders, women, men, and children assembled under a large banyan tree beside the primary school,” he said.
“Word had spread that a descendant of a Girmitiya had come back. They welcomed me not as an outsider, but as a returning son.
“There were garlands. Smiles. Laughter. Questions. Stories. And something intangible but powerful: recognition. A sense that time had folded in on itself, and something long lost had been found again.
“They showed me where the families once lived. Some elders recalled stories passed down from their own grandparents. We weren’t strangers, we were threads of the same fabric, finally stitched together again.
“I knelt down and touched the soil. And in a moment of quiet, I whispered: ‘I’m back.’
Mr Prasad said the process of finding his roots was emotional, uncertain and, at times, overwhelming.
He described it as “deeply human”, as his search was driven by love for someone he had never met, but whose memory and legacy he carried with him all the time.
An emotional Mr Prasad said the reception he received was something he would never forget.
“It was one of the most emotionally powerful experiences of my life, one that touched something far beyond intellect or history. It touched the soul.
“What struck me most was the complete absence of hesitation. No one asked me to prove anything. No one questioned who I was. They simply accepted me.
“They said, ‘you are one of us, you belong here’. That simple, generous act of recognition was incredibly moving.
“For generations, my family had carried a sense of disconnection, being from somewhere, but not quite knowing where. And in that moment, the disconnection disappeared.”
He told this newspaper he sat with the villagers under the banyan tree and shared stories. He visited their homes and was offered food and water.
His people insisted he stay longer. Mr Prasad said that at that moment, he felt safe.
“For two hours, time slowed down. I wasn’t a UN official or an international economist. I was simply Bhagwan’s great-grandson, a child of girmit, returning to close a circle that had remained open for over a century.
“When I finally knelt down and touched the soil, it wasn’t just for me, it was for Bhagwan, for my mother, my siblings, my family, for all the girmitiyas who never got to come home.
“And that day in Nagla Baldev, under the branches of an old banyan tree, I finally felt whole. I felt humbled, complete and, somehow, lifted.
“It’s a strange thing to describe, but the moment I stood in that village, I felt like the long walk I had started in Dreketi as a boy, barefoot on gravel roads, dreaming of something greater, had finally reached its destination.
“This wasn’t just about finding a place. It was about fulfilling a promise to myself, to my family and to my ancestors.
“I felt like a bridge between two worlds, Fiji and India, and for the first time in my life, both sides felt fully connected.”
Considering how crucial this was to his identity and belonging, he said for Fijians of Indian descent, the experience of identity was deeply layered.
He said for many, there was often an unspoken feeling of being “from somewhere, but not of somewhere”.
“We are Fijians, of course, and proudly so. But we also carry the rhythms of another place, the ancestral pull of a land we never knew, but still feel.
“At the same time, I want to be careful not to speak for all Fijians. Each of us carries our identity in a unique way. Some feel deeply connected to India, others less so.
“And both experiences are valid. Our strength as a community lies in the way we’ve made a life in Fiji, through resilience, culture and contribution.
“For me, personally, this reconnection helped me feel more grounded, more whole. It reminded me that I am the product of extraordinary courage, of a young man who crossed oceans with nothing but his hands and hope.”
Mr Prasad said it was a deeply personal journey, and he believed each Fijian carried a unique relationship with their history, sense of identity and their connection to India.
For some, the link to India remains strong, through language, religion, music, or culture. For others, that connection may feel distant or abstract, shaped by the passage of time, silence or generations of being rooted in Fiji.
He said he wouldn’t prescribe or advocate that all Fijians of Indian descent should seek out their ancestral ties in India.
“Instead, what I would say is this: if you feel a quiet pull, if you carry questions, stories or dreams about where your family came from, listen to that. Honour that curiosity. Follow it gently, in your own time, in your own way.
“That journey didn’t erase my Fijian identity, it deepened it. It made me more grateful for what my ancestors built in Fiji.
“It reminded me that behind every sugarcane field, every village story, every Fijian festival, there is a history of courage and survival that began on the other side of the world.”
He expressed his thanks to his friend Dheeraj Gupta, local officials and community leaders in Nagla Baldev, the villagers, elders, women, men, and children who welcomed him, his parents, especially his mother who still lives in Dreketi, his siblings, his wife Faiza and their three children.
“I didn’t go searching for where I belong, I’ve always known I belong to Fiji, to the soil of Dreketi, to the values of community, dignity, and work.
“But standing in Nagla Baldev, where my great-grandfather took his last steps before boarding a ship in 1907, gave me something else: clarity.
“It brought into focus the extraordinary distance our people have travelled, geographically, emotionally and generationally.
“As someone who works at the International Labour Organization, I have spent my career focused on fairness, justice and opportunity.”
He said this journey gave him a deeper sense of why he did what he did not just as a professional, but as a descendant of those who once laboured without rights, without recognition, and without a voice.
“To return, after 118 years, as a great-grandson, not in chains, but by choice, not as a number on a manifest, but as a human being carrying the story forward, was deeply meaningful.
“What I found in India was not just a village, or distant relatives, or the soil of my ancestors. I found continuity.
“We are people from Fiji who carry many identities with strength and dignity. And through journeys like this, we don’t escape the past, we elevate it.
“For me, this story now continues, not with a full stop, but with a deep breath and a longer stride.”
