It became clear to me that although some of the women were leaving their countries in order to be able to earn more and support family members, others were searching for their freedom. Many of these women ended up finding themselves more trapped than they had been before, with no way of returning home.
I had learnt so much just by listening and opening my eyes; I understood so much more than I had before. This is why I wanted to write a story from the perspective of the people who had to learn about Nisha themselves – her employer and her lover. I struggled to write the ending. I found it so hard because I knew that Nisha had to die. She had to die because the women in reality had lost their lives, so cruelly snatched away. Although my novel isn’t based on the true story, it is inspired by the essence of it, by the way in which ideologies exist like powerful undercurrents. We hear Nisha’s story through the mouths of others; we have to piece together her existence through the memories of others – this is what I often saw and felt on the streets of Cyprus. But when we listen and look carefully, we see that each person has as much beauty and depth and hope and fear and history and aspiration and courage as we do ourselves. The reader must discover this. Until the end, when Nisha finally speaks. I hope there is an echo after the last page – her voice continuing out into the silence of the ending.
Songbirds is a story about migration and crossing borders: it is about searching for freedom, for a better life, only to find oneself trapped. It is a story about the way in which systemic racism exists often unquestioned, relying upon prejudice and nationalistic ideals to survive. It is a story about learning to see each and every human being in the same way as we see ourselves.