 Tonight's conversation unites two extraordinary women with a unique bond, Mary Seacall and Elizabeth Annie Onwoop both entered the nursing profession and ended up as pioneers, but one of them successfully campaigned for a statue of the other, resulting in the UK's first statue of a named black woman. Dane Elizabeth is joined in conversation by the broadcasting legend Shima Pereira and what promises to be a night of great journeys. Well, good evening, everybody, and welcome. This is the second event in the Unfinished Business series of conversations. And I'm in conversation, as you've just heard, with the fabulous named Elizabeth Annie Onwoop, Elizabeth. We're talking about your wonderful life and Mary Seacall's wonderful life. And I have to be completely honest here and say that I had never heard of Mary Seacall until my children were a primary school. And they came back and said they were doing a project on Mary Seacall. And I said, who is she? And they said, well, she was the Black Florence Nightingale mummy. And I said, don't be ridiculous, never heard of her. And I thought, you know, it was the time of bar, bar, green sheep and all of that kind of misinformation that we were getting about multiculturalism. And I thought, where have they dug this person up from? And then I had a look and found she was real and that she was extraordinary. And I wondered, how on earth had I not known about her? So let me move now to you because you're one of those people who put her into the public space once more. So who was Mary Seacall and why is she important to me? Well, thank you very much and hello, everybody. Sharma, before I even talk about who Mary Seacall was, I have to say that your introduction to Mary Seacall via your school children was identical to that of Boris Johnson, our Prime Minister. We've just leave it there, shall we? So Mary Seacall was born in, we think, 1805 in her autobiography, The Wonderful Adventures of Mrs. Seacall in Many Lands, published in 1857. She's very coy about revealing her exact date of birth. The nearest she comes to it is saying the century and I were born around the same time. But on her death certificate when she died in 1881, her age was 76. So basically people have worked backwards to assume that she was born in 1805. Now she was born in Jamaica. She's of mixed race, Creole, and followed in her mother's footsteps and became a doctoress and an entrepreneur. Now a doctoress was a Caribbean term that some people say, well, you know, it's like a general practitioner, but she also particularly practiced Creole medical herbal medicine as well. So she was an all-rounder. She didn't come from wealth. She created wealth. And really what I am struck by in terms of when she was living was how much she traveled. We know of, I think people know of her. They know that she traveled out to care for soldiers and be an entrepreneur during the Crimean War. But she actually traveled to many other countries as well. And she died in London in 1881, in May, 14th of May, 1881. And in her will, she asked that she be buried in St Mary's Roman Catholic Cemetery in Kenzo Green. And at that point, she was actually a celebrated member of British society. There had been two big fundraisers for her because she had run out of money. So she had sort of come full circle. Let me take you right back to when she's born in Jamaica. So she's got a Scottish mother and a Creole mother. So she learns to be a doctor at sort of watching her mother sort of looking after people. And then she decides that she wants to save people and to look after people. And she really loves that. But she's also what really struck me about her, given that this is an exhibition about feminism, is that she's highly entrepreneurial. She's almost swashbucklingly crazy for adventure. And she somehow puts the two together, which is highly unusual at that time. How does that or how do those pieces come together? Well, I think actually, although it might have been unusual for other women, for Creole women, and particularly, there was a real legacy within the Caribbean of doctors, I mean, it really went back a couple of centuries, who were very, very independent women, feisty women, I believe, as I think Mary was, who really had this sheer self-belief. And I think they realised, you know, if they were going to make anything of life, they had to do it for themselves. But she sets off. She goes, she sets off. First of all, she comes to England twice, wants to just sort of visit with a friend. And the second time to try a little bit of business, a bit of buying and selling. She does that on her own. Very interestingly, she refers to England as home. She watches the ships going home to England, even though at that point, she hasn't even been to England. She then returns to Jamaica and follows her brother to Panama at a time when there's yellow fever and cholera all over the place. What is the driver then? Well, first of all, I think it's very interesting, Sharma, that you recall that she saw England as home. If you think about it in terms of the Windrush experience and before Windrush, England is the mother country, the mother country. So this actually goes back so far. Obviously, England colonised Jamaica. England was seen as the mother country. So to see and read about the link and the emotional link that Mary Seacole had with England is very important. But also, of course, her father was Scottish. And in the opening lines, virtually, of her autobiography, she proudly tells her readers about her Scottish father and how proud she is of Scottish blood coursing through her veins, as she calls it. So she is proud of her Jamaican Creole roots as well. And this is what I like about Mary Seacole, but she's incredibly proud of her British connections. No question about it. But she is a woman who is so powerful. She sets off for Panama. She starts helping her brother, who has set up a hotel. And I think trying to read between the lines, in those days, you would call it a hotel, but it would almost be like a saloon in the Wild West where people are coming in and booking in, but it's not room service. It's literally like a rooming house where people are coming in and they've got cholera and she's nursing them. But then she gets fed up with her brother and goes off and sets up on her own a hotel, which she calls the British Hotel. And she starts to nurse alone. I mean, I find all of that extraordinary. I think we have to remember, once again, that her mother was also a doctoress. And I am very curious about her upbringing. And she does talk about when she was a child and how she would copy what she saw her mother doing in terms of nursing and caring for the British and American visitors, particularly from the naval background. And she talks about, doesn't she, a doll and pretending that the doll was a patient. So it's clear that she had a very, very strong respect for her mother. And her mother was a very, very strong role model for her. And that I like that, I have to be honest. So, yeah, I think it's her mother that has influenced this desire to care for people. But her thirst for travelling, where that came from, I came from within. She was obviously a very curious person, wasn't she? She loved meeting people. And she was very, she had such strong image of herself. I mean, she wasn't shy in knowing that she could contribute, that she could make money. Yeah, that's it. She has this extraordinary drive. And she then decides, well, first of all, she marries Mr. Seacole, who dies quite quickly, doesn't he? And we know very little about him, even though she will be forever known after that as Mary Seacole or Mother Seacole. We don't know anything about him, do we? We know a little bit about him. First, it's thought that, well, it's not thought. Mary, I think, mentions that he was the godson of Lord Nelson. And Jane Robinson, who wrote really the first biography, beautiful biography, I have to say, of Mary Seacole in 2005, which would have been the bicentennial of Mary's birth year, did a lot of investigations and tracked down some information about Mr. Seacole. But Mary doesn't say too much about him. You're quite right in says a little bit, but not enough to quench our, you know, knowledge, quest for knowledge about him. So, yeah, where did she get the drive from? I think, you know, Jamaica, while she was proud of her Jamaican roots, Jamaica was too small for her, I sense. And also, of course, Jamaica was a thriving port, thriving colonial port, plus there were, you know, for the British, but in terms of the Americans were there as well. I think it's clear that Mary met an awful lot of people, first of all, by helping her mother out in her hotel and then taking over Blundle Hall, British Hotel, from her mother. So I think maybe meeting up with all these very guests made Mary want to go to those lands herself. Plus, again, remembering this strong link she had with Britain, but also her entrepreneurial skills. And, yeah, Jamaica, I think, was a bit too small for her, although she kept going back and forth to Jamaica, but she has to be buried in London, which is interesting. Yeah, because that was always, it seems to me, where she was intended to be, because she then, of course, the Crimean War starts and she reads about it. Florence Nightingale has been asked to set up a group of nurses to go over and deal with the Crimean War, oh, to help with the Crimean War, and Mary Seacole decides that she also wants to be a part of that. And she actually applies to Florence Nightingale and meets her in Constantinople, I think it is, to ask if she can join those nurses and is dismissed. It's a bit more complex than that. First of all, Mary, first and foremost, as well, was an entrepreneur. And also, she loved the British soldiers and the sailors that she knew from Lundell Hall in Jamaica. And it was there that she heard about the Crimean War, because these beloved sons, as she called them, were going off to the Crimean. But she'd already, before she heard about the Crimean War, she'd already planned to make yet another visit, as you alluded to, to London, to England, on business, because she knew she could make money selling her Jamaican spices and wares. And she was, obviously, I think, quite a good businesswoman. So she decided she would combine the two so that she would find out more when she got to London about the Crimean War. And she did apply to... What happened was she went to the house of Mrs Herbert, who was the friend of Florence Nightingale. When Mary got to London, Florence Nightingale had already left for Scutari. So they didn't meet in London. But she went to the house where there had been the recruitment of nurses for to go with Florence Nightingale. And she was told, well, they've already recruited the second group of nurses. And was told, well, it's too late, we've already recruited them. So you could see it as a rebuff. And in fact, Mary wondered whether she was being rebuffed because of the colour of her skin. So we don't quite know whether that was the case, or whether she just missed the boat, literally, in terms of the recruitment process. But she said Mary was very determined and she decided that, come what may, she knew she was so strong in what she could offer to her soldiers out there in the Crimea. She would make her own way out there. And as you say, she did. She paid for her own travel expenses and got herself out there. I just would have loved to have met Mary Seacour, I really would. Believe me, so would I. I'm extremely glad that I've met you because, of course, I also want to talk to you about you. And there are certain parallels, if you like. There's a racial parallel, there's a parallel in your interests and what you did for your career. And a parallel in your positioning of public health is where you want to make a difference. So before we go any further with Mary Seacour, I want to find out a little bit more about Elizabeth Anionwu. And I just want to remind the audience that if you have any questions, there's a question box at the bottom of the screen that you can fill in and they will be pinged to me and I can include them in our conversation. So Elizabeth, tell me, we know that your mother was Irish. Irish Heritage. You take it from there. So I actually called my memoirs Mixed Blessings from a Cambridge Union because Sharma, I was the outcome of an affair of my parents as students at Cambridge University just after the Second World War. And my mother became pregnant with me towards the end of her second year study in classics. Now, she never married my father, so one can imagine the scandal and shame that she would have experienced because she came from a very loving but strict and devout Roman Catholic Irish Heritage family. I think she was second in generation. So she decided to leave Cambridge. I must admit as a woman, that is a big regret. I wished today she could have combined her studies and had a child as well. But no, she gave up her studies. And my father went back to Nigeria as a qualified lawyer and became a civil servant and ambassador and all sorts of things. And they were never to meet up again. So that was the situation. And because it was difficult for my mother to initially make a home for me as a single parent, I lived in a children's home for the first nine years. But my mother never was. I had no sense of rejection in terms of my mother, which has helped me enormously through my life. She always made it clear she wanted to make a home for me. And one day I would leave the convent, which I did age nine. I went to live with her and my stepfather. And sadly, that didn't work out. Lasted for 20 months because we're talking about the mid 1950s now, in the Midlands in this country. And I was the only black child in that neighborhood. And my stepfather apparently started to get teased by his mates in the pub. What's he doing? Having a half-caste child in his house, because of course, that was the term that was used. And he took it out on me by physically abusing me. So I went to I was rescued by my maternal grandparents and spent a pleasant adolescence there. And I came down to London at 18 and did my nursing. That's potted history of me. I don't know whether there's anything more that you. I think that you got a love for nursing. You didn't have a doc tress as a mother, but you did have a nun at the home. That's right, yes, yes. In my child's mind, I called her the white nun. Well, all the nuns in the convent were white. They were all Irish as well. But she wore a white habit rather than the traditional black habit. So she was the white nun. And I loved her to bit, Sharma, because I had very bad eczema that needed dressing, daily dressings. And it was a lovely cool pace that they put on. Bandage was put over it. But when it came to changing the dressing, the bandage was now stuck to this paste, stuck to my skin. And she was the only nun that would remove my dressing without causing me any pain. She used distraction therapy. What was that? Well, you know, this is a strict Catholic upbringing I am in the middle of a convent with all nuns looking after me. And nuns, we were told, they were the brides of Christ, very religious women. And yet, you know, I'm still making me laugh now. She would, as she was changing the dressings, she would use words that to me were so rude. What were these words? Bottom, I mean, come on, bottom. But you know, yeah, in a child's mind, you don't, a nun doesn't use that word. And I would fall for it every time. Start laughing before I knew it, bandage was off. It was wonderful. So you come to London, I think you come to Paddington General Hospital, don't you? That's where I was growing up. You are just having a fairly normal, standard nursing career for the time when you reconnect with your father. What happened then? Well, I was now 25 and I was a qualified health visitor working in Brent. And I had written to my mother in the March of that year. I'd always wanted to know about him, but you know, as a child and young adult, nobody talked about my father and I was sensible enough to know, they're not mentioning him, don't ask any questions. But I then wrote to my mother and said, look, just tell me about my father, what's his name? And she wrote back immediately saying, look, I've been meaning to tell you, but it hasn't been convenient. I'm my half-brothers and sisters were always in the house when I visited. So she gave me his name and she said, but Lawrence Odiato Victor Anionwu. She said he's a lawyer, he's gone back to Nigeria. We didn't have the internet then, Sharma, in those days. And she said, I don't think you'll be able to find him. And I'm not actually sure it's a good idea for you to try and look for him. And the reason, she was worried that I might be rejected by his family. I had that name in the back of my diary for three months because I didn't know any Nigerians. I knew people from the Caribbean. But anyway, I then realized I knew an African lawyer, the late John Roberts QC. And in conversation, he happened to mention that he occasionally taught Nigerian law students. I showed John my father's name and I said, do you think you could find out what part of Nigeria this name is from? Because it was only a couple of years, Sharma, after a terrible Nigerian civil war, the Biafran War. So I knew there were different ethnic groups in Nigeria, but that was about it. So he said, okay, leave it with me. Now, this is a Monday evening. I'll see what I can find out. Wednesday morning, he rang me at my clinic. I've spoken to your father. You couldn't make this up, Sharma. I mean, I was just rooted to the spot. What? In Nigeria? He said, no, in Palmer's Green, North London. It's a wonderful story, isn't it? And I met my father the next day. It was as fast as that. And I was to know him for eight years before he died. He died quite young, unfortunately. But I love my mother. I love my Irish heritage family. They were and are still very supportive of me. And thankfully, I was also to get on it so well with my father. How lucky was I because you can imagine, I follow similar stories of people who are trying to find their biological parents. And sadly, it doesn't always work out well, but it did for me. And it sorted me out. It made me confident and it was wonderful. Well, I think he, and I'm reading between the lines here, but I think what he appeared to do was he made you aware of your own power and that your career didn't have to be a sort of gradual trajectory. You could actually use what you knew to create change. And that coincided, and I'm sorry to keep telling you your own story, but there's so much of it, that that coincided, I think, with you coming across a problem amongst black families in Brent that you had never been aware of at medical school and that was sickle cell. Right, so in my own three-year nurse education program in Paddington, late 1960s, so we have to remember the context of the late 1960s. West London, there was a significant black population during that period and yet never taught about sickle cell. Neither was I taught about Mary's sickle, but I'm sure we'll come on to that. But yeah, I wasn't taught about sickle cell. So here I am, a health visitor, recently qualified, visiting families in West London. And there is a mother that I meet who has a son with sickle cell anemia. There's little boys lying on the couch, moaning a little bit in pain. I think he's had a hospital admission, he's just been discharged. And the mother was reasonably happy with the medical care her son had, but she was frustrated that she couldn't find answers to all the questions a mother has when they have a child with a long-term illness such as this. And I couldn't help her. And I think she had me on a little bit of a pedestal. I did get on very well with a lot of my families, but I couldn't give her any extra information about this illness. And I was frustrated, I was ashamed a bit, you know, but I was also very angry. And I had this, why, you know, I was talking to myself, not I didn't say this to the mother of God, why wasn't I talked about this condition? Not only in my nurse education program, but my health visiting education program, which was in the early 1980s in West London, neither even mentioned the illness. And when I look back in my textbook for nurses, medicine for nurses, it was called, wasn't even in the index. I hadn't slept through the lecture, I hadn't missed the lecture, I hadn't missed out this, we weren't taught about it, Cheryl. So at this point, you then decide to find out everything you can about sickle cell, that includes going to the US, where they run sickle cell clinics. You, in your own way, are emulating what Mary Seacoll has done, completely different locations. It's a different landscape, but it's the same sort of journey. You go to the US, you learn about what there is to be done, and you come back, and you create our first nurse-led clinic for sickle cell and thalassemia, is that right? Yes, I was working with a Dr. Misha Brozovic, who was the consultant hematologist, and we had an informal interest in sickle cell. And when I came back from the States, I was telling nurses play a very significant part what we call the multidisciplinary team. I didn't realise nurses could do that. Hey, this is what I'd like to be. And she fully supported that. She actually found the funding initial two years for my salary, and found a couple of rooms at Wilson Hospital. And that's when I set up myself as a sickle cell nurse specialist, yes, and included thalassemia as well, because that was an equally important inherited condition where families required similar information and support. As part of that development and growth, you become an emeritus professor at the University of West London, where you again set up specialisms in sickle cell and thalassemia. And it's at this point that the two stories start to join because you also set up a section that is named after Mary Seacole. And so I want you to tell me at which point in your timeline you learned the full story of Mary Seacole and how that affected the way you thought, not just about Mary Seacole, but actually about yourself. Well, first of all, just in terms of your kind introduction just there, when I was made a professor of nursing at the University of West London, and when I retired in 2007, they very kindly gave me the honorary title of emeritus professor of nursing, which has enabled me to keep a link with the university and the students, which is wonderful. Now, when I arrived in at the University of West London about 1998, I think it was, I was really very surprised that many of the tutors, nurse tutors and the students in particular, were in the situation I was in in 1984 that I had never heard of Mary Seacole. I first heard about Mary Seacole in 1984 way after I'd done my educational nursing programs. And that was because two women, Audrey Jujie and Ziggy Alexander, bought out for the first time Mary Seacole's 1857 autobiography. They edited it, they bought it out. And I remember going to the launch buying a copy of this book, I couldn't put this book down. I mean, I do love reading, but this was incredible. I mean, what, what a journey. What, I mean, what a woman. I mean, she's the way she wrote that autobiography is absolutely incredible. But I'm thinking, so I'm enjoying the book. I'm learning, but again, my anger, my anger has driven me to all sorts of things, Shama, positive things I have to say. I was angry. How come I had never learned about Mary Seacole when I was a student nurse, when I was a health visitor. Now look, I admired Florence Nightingale for her contributions to the nursing profession. There's no question about that. But hey, hold on, Mary Seacole was out there in the crime scene at the same time, different roles. And Florence Nightingale and Mary Seacole were equally well known to the British Victorian public due to the reporting of the Times correspondent, Sir William Howard Russell, the war correspondent of the Times newspaper. Can you imagine? He admired both Florence Nightingale and Mary Seacole. And yet now, hey, hold on, how come Mary Seacole's dropped off this? And yet in her day, she was recognized. She was fated by the British public. Queen Victoria donated to the Seacole Fund. My goodness, what a woman. How come I've never been taught about her as a student nurse? That really angered me because the race issue starts to come in, Shama. You're very upfront with you. What's the difference between these two women? Well, yes, absolutely. And of course, just to remind our audience that if you want to ask any questions, there's a question box at the bottom of the screen that you can fill in. And I will get to see your questions as they come in. Elizabeth, race is very important because when I was reading Mary Seacole's book, I actually noted that she hesitates to refer to herself as black. She refers to herself as Creole, which is a mix. She refers to the Scottishness. She refers to the, to an Englishness about herself. She refers to her being a different darker shade. She describes herself as just a few shades darker than brunettes when she's in London. It's very interesting. She seems, it seemed to me to struggle with defining what she was racially. She was not white, but she doesn't either describe herself as black, does she? I have to disagree with you there. To some extent, you're quite right in terms of the very colors that she does use black. And I'm going to, if you allow me, can I just quote from her autobiography just to demonstrate it's new up until this point, it is more nuanced. So I understand that, Shum, but look, so she's been done. This is now in Panama, South America, where there's been a cholera outbreak and she has looked after all these American sort of traders and they hold a dinner in her honor. And this guy stands up and gives a speech in honor of anti-sequel. So well, gentlemen, I'm not doing the American accent. So well, gentlemen, I expect you'll all support me in drinking of this toast to anti-sequel. So gentlemen, I give you anti-sequel. We can't do less for her after what she's done for us. When the cholera was amongst us not many months ago, so I say, God bless the best yellow woman in here he ever made from Jamaica, gentlemen, from the Isle of Springs. Well, gentlemen, I expect there are only two things we're vexed for. And the first is that she ain't one of us, a citizen of the great United States. And the other thing is, gentlemen, that Providence made her a yellow woman. I calculate, gentlemen, you're all as vexed as I, that she's not wholly white. But I do reckon on you rejoicing with me that she's so many shades removed from being entirely black. And I guess if we could bleach her by any means, we would and thus make her acceptable to any company as she deserves to be. Gentlemen, I give you anti-sequel. This is Mrs. Sequel now replying, writing first of all. And so the orator sat down amidst much applause, maybe suppose that I did not need much persuasion to return thanks burning as I was to tell them my mind on the subject of my color. Indeed, if my brother had not checked me, I should have given them my thoughts somewhat too freely. As it was, I said. So gentlemen, I return you my best thanks for your kindness and drinking my health. As for what I've done in crucial Providence, evidently made me to be useful and I can't help it. But I must say that I don't altogether appreciate your friend's kind wishes with respect to my complexion. If it had been as dark as any, and she uses the N word, but I would say in a descriptive, but certainly not a negative way, I should have been just as happy and as useful and as much respected by those who's respect I value. And as to his offer of bleaching me, I should, even if it were practicable, decline it with any thanks. As to the society which the process might gain me admission into, all I can say is that judging from the specimens I've met with here and elsewhere, I don't think that I shall lose much by being excluded from it. So gentlemen, I drink to you and the general reformation of American manners. Boing. Which is wonderful. And it must be said that she clearly struggled with structural racism, which I think is still evident in certainly in healthcare, but she's dealing with it at every level. And she overcame it because she has this extraordinary, robust self belief, which enables her to just ride over any kind of negative encounter and to have an absolute sense of purpose and what she wants to do. And while you are reading Elizabeth, I think there's what's really interesting about Mary Seacal, reading her autobiography, is her real need, and I think she uses the term at one point, to be a heroine. She has a real sense of self. And she writes this book, which is robustly self, a grandising is not the word I want, but it's self-promoting. She's got a fantastic sense of self. And she is also very aware, I mean, she's very much a modern woman. I mean, you know, she's a feminist, she's self-directed, she's self-supporting. She does what she wishes to do in the way that she wants to do it. But she also is playing with the news agenda in the sense that she's deciding how she wants to be portrayed. And I think you've also got another reading for us, which really speaks to the way that she is positioning herself throughout her book. Which is Chapter 13, isn't it? Which is this, when she goes to the Crimea. That's right. Would you like me to read that now? That'd be great, yes, please. And I totally agree with your analysis, Sharma. So this is Chapter 13, entitled My Work in the Crimea. It's a longer section than I've just read, I'm warning. I hope the reader will give me credit for the assertion that I'm about to make, is that I enter upon the particulars of this chapter with great reluctance, but I cannot omit them. For the simple reason that they strengthen my one and only claim to interest the public. These are really my services to the brave British army in the Crimea. But fortunately, I can follow a course which will not only render it unnecessary for me to sound my own trumpet, but will be more satisfactory to the reader. I can put on record the written opinion of those who had ample means of judging and ascertaining how I fulfilled the great object, which I had in view in leaving England for the Crimea. And before I do so, I must solicit my reader's attention to the position I held in the camp as doctors, nurse and mother. I have never been long in any place before I have found my practical experience in the science of medicine useful. Even in London, I have found it of service to others. And in the Crimea, where the doctors were so overworked and sickness was so prevalent, I could not be long idle. For I never forgot that my intention in seeking the army was to help the kind-hearted doctors to be useful to whom I've ever looked upon and still regard as so high a privilege. But before very long, I found myself surrounded with patients of my own, and this for two simple reasons. In the first place, the men, I'm speaking of the ranks now, had a very serious objection to going into hospitals for any but urgent regions. And the regimental doctors were rather fond of sending them there. And in the second place, they could and did get at my store, sick comforts and nourishing food, which the heads of the medical staff would sometimes find it difficult to procure. These reasons, with the additional one that I was very familiar with the diseases which they suffered most from and successful in their treatment, I say this in no spirit of vanity, were quite sufficient to account for the numbers who came daily to the British Hotel for medical treatment. That the officers were glad of me as a doctoress and nurse may be easily understood. When a poor fellow lay sickening in his cheerless but heart and sent down to me, he knew very well that I should not ride in answer to the message empty-handed. And although I did not hesitate to charge him, with the value of the necessaries I took him, still he was thankful enough to be able to purchase them. When we lie ill at home surrounded with comfort, we never think of feeling any special gratitude for the sick room delicacies which we accept as a consequence of our illness. But the poor officer lying ill and weary in his crazy heart, dependent for the merest necessities of existence upon a clumsy ignorant soldier cook who would almost prefer eating his meat raw to having the trouble of cooking it. Our English soldiers are bad campaigners. Often finds his greatest troubles in the wants of those little delicacies with which just a weak stomach must be humid into retaining nourishment. How often have I felt sad at the sight of poor lads who in England thought attending earlier parade a hardship and felt harassed if their neckcloth set a rye, or the natty little boots would not retain their polish, bearing and bearing so nobly and bravely, trials and hardships to which the veteran campaign are frequently succumbed. Don't you think, reader, if you were lying with parched lips and fading appetite, thousands of miles from mother, wife or sister, loathing the rough food by your side and thinking regretfully of that English home where nothing that could minister to your great need would be left untried. Don't you think that you would welcome the familiar figure of the stout lady whose bony horse has just pulled up at the door of your hut and whose panniers contain some cooling drink, a little broth, some homely cake, or a dish of jelly or blanche, don't you think under such circumstances that you would hardly agree with my friend Punch's remarks? That berry-brown face with a kind heart's trace impressed on each wrinkled sly was a sight to behold through the snow clouds rolled across the iron sky. I tell you, reader, I have seen many a bold fellow's eyes moisten at such a season when a woman's voice and a woman's care have brought to mind their mind's recollection of those happy English homes which some of them never saw again. But many did who will remember their woman comrade upon the bleak and barren heights before Sebastopol. Then their calling me mother was not, I think, altogether unmeaning. I used to fancy that there was something homely in the word. And reader, you cannot think how dear to them was the smallest thing that reminded them of home. Some of my Crimean patients who were glad of me as nurse and doctoress bore names familiar to all England. And perhaps did I ask them? They would allow me to publish their names. I'm proud to think that a gallant sailor on whose brave breast the order of Victoria rests, a more gallant man can never wear it. Sent for the doctoress whom he had known in Kingston. When his arm wounded on the fatal 18th of June, the footnote reminds us that this was the battle, the assault on the redan. So sent for the, sorry, when his arm wounded on the fatal 18th of June, refused to heal. And I think that the application I recommended did it good. I just love her. She's just, she's entrepreneurial. She is incredibly good-hearted, but she always has an eye on making sure Mary Seacole is A, doing what she wants to do, and B, is not suffering for having done it. And I absolutely, to me, she is the ultimate feminist. Now, that's not why you then, Elizabeth, having established yourself in a thousand ways, decided to become the champion, really, for the statue of Mary Seacole, which now stands outside St Thomas's Hospital. When you started to argue for that, what were your reasons for wanting her commemorated in that way? Well, first of all, it was a Lord Clive Soli, whose idea it was to have the Memorial statue. And he invited me and 10 other trustees to join forces with him. I, as you've already discussed, I was already aware, obviously, of Mary Seacole, and she was one of my role models. And the reason why I could relate to her for several similar backgrounds, if you like, I was, I am mixed race, as was Mary Seacole. Her parents were Creole, Jamaican, and Scottish. My parents were Irish heritage and Nigerian. She was also a nurse, a doctoress. And I have always, from a small child, wanted to be a nurse and take away pain. I think that was my first reason. And Mary Seacole obviously wanted to provide comfort, care, nourishment, but also nurse in the term of professionally nursing soldiers. And there are some people say, oh, well, she wasn't a real nurse. Well, I have to remind those people. They don't actually know the history of the nursing profession because Florence Nightingale did her training. This was for a few months in a hospital in Germany, observing, and it wasn't until after the Crimean War, I think you've mentioned, that she set up, she was invited to set up the first School of Nursing in 1860 at St Thomas' Hospital. So Mary was brought up in Jamaica. She observed and followed in her mother's tradition, Jamaican doctoress, which was as near as you could get to being a nurse as possible. So I think, you know, I am attracted to Mary Seacole because she was a very inquisitive person. I know that I constantly ask questions. She saw gaps, she filled those gaps. She was also very, very feisty and she didn't tolerate fools, gladly. And when I was doing interviews for my memoirs, guess what some people said about me. So I thought, well, I'm in good company, you know? So I could see the similarities of Mary Seacole and myself. And that's what, once I'd read her memoirs, that's what drew me to her. And I wanted to name my research centre after her when I was professor of nursing at the University of West London. And to then get the statue up, we've had a question which says, how hard was it? Let me remind the audience that you've got the question box under the screen. So get them in quickly because we've only got about another 10 minutes or so. How hard was it to get the statue of Mary Seacole accepted and up? That is a brilliant question. It was so tough. It's the only time I had a sleepless night where I cried throughout the night because we didn't make it public. Why should we? But there was a vociferous minority and a really small group of people who were utterly opposed to Mary Seacole's statue. First of all, being cited in St. Thomas's hospital, you know, she didn't have any links there. No, she didn't. But you know, St. Thomas's recognised the chairman of St. Thomas's hospital, recognised that his hospital served a diverse community by a diverse staff and was only right that they should cite Mary Seacole there. And I was so proud of St. Thomas's NHS Trust I can tell you. And yeah, so I agreed with, you know, when Lord Soli approached me and, as I say, others. Yeah, I was up for it because, as I've already said, Mary Seacole was a role model to me and she was mixed-race and I thought, yeah, I'm up for this. The minority but vociferous opposition was more than balanced by a huge, a huge outpouring of support nationally from all walks, from all backgrounds. Elizabeth, I would, you know, I was completely behind it, having finally learned who Mary Seacole was. But interestingly, our question then goes on to say, and why does the statue matter? And I want to now put it into a thousand, 2020 question, which is that it was so important because so much of the statuary that we see tells a colonialist narrative, has a colonialist narrative. And it's about power and it's about subjugation in many ways. And so it was so vital to have Mary Seacole there for women, for people of colour, for all medical, all those people in the medical profession, which still suffers from structural racism and structural gendered problems as well, I'm sure. But the view about statues has changed in recent times. Do you think that changes the way you feel about the statue of Mary being there? No, it doesn't, but I do accept and even before Colston being thrown overboard, I was always conscious that a negative aspect of statuary and monuments is the idolatry aspect, literally putting somebody on a pedestal. So I am conscious of that, but that's a small concern I have about this. I am totally at ease now with having been involved with others in the campaign to have the statue of Mary Seacole. And I am delighted that the country rallied round. As you say, we got support from women, we got support from minority ethnic individuals and organisations. We got support from such a range of people. We had to raise three quarters of a million pounds in 12 years. That was a period of austerity during that period. It was tough, but we did it through people being able to resonate with what Mary Seacole stood for. And we wanted more statues of women. That was a very important push because it's horrendous if you look at the small number of women. So yes, there is a question of, are statues necessary? I think they are, I think they're part of our cultural heritage. And it was about time a brown-skinned woman got up onto one of those pedestals. Here, here. This exhibition is called Unfinished Business. Do you think, from Mary Seacole's point of view, she would consider that the statue finishes her business? Oh, I think so. She was a very proud woman. And I think, well, I know she'll be delighted. I think she would be surprised. I mean, she was a very proud woman. She was a very confident woman. She loved the Britishness, you know? So to be overlooking the River Thames, the Houses of Parliament. And do you know what? Mary Seacole got on with people and hobnobbed with people from all walks of life. The ordinary soldier, who she really loved as sons. She loved those generals as well. And my goodness, could she mix and go up and down the hierarchy of the military organization? She would be absolutely delighted that she's on this pedestal. As I said, I don't think she would have believed she would have been on one in the way that she is. And what about you? So you've got a Fellowship of Royal College of Nursing. You got a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Pride of Britain. You've got an honorary doctorate or an emeritus professor. Have you got unfinished business? Do you have the statue of Mary Seacole put up? My unfinished business is actually with the younger generation. I'm a mother and I'm a grandmother. So I'm concerned with their, not just with my mother, sorry, not just with my daughter and my granddaughter, but they represent to me. I'm looking at the experiences they're having. Obviously at this particular moment, the impact of COVID-19, the issues facing women. You see, women feature strongly in my narrative. There's my mother, there's myself, there's my daughter, there's my granddaughter. And we are all very conscious of the role of women and how we just must not have any anxieties because we are women. In fact, our strength is drawn from women and the history of what women have and are and will continue to contribute to society. Within nursing, what do you think needs to change? And I must tell you that somebody has sent a note saying this is the most riveting conversation. They're just absolutely loving what you're saying and they want you to make a movie of your life. Sorry, I'm sorry. You have to have your daughter to play you, I suppose. Yeah, that's a good idea. I like that idea. Yes. But, you know, what do you feel with... In nursing, we're talking about. ...needs to be done. And what are you sort of still feeding into, albeit perhaps quietly? Well, one area as you can appreciate that I am very supportive of and supportive in a quiet way, as you said, mentoring and on social media, that's where I'm more active, is the better representation of black and minority ethnic individuals in the upper echelons of the National Health Service. And there is a heck of a lot more work. I've seen more work done on this in the last five years than I've seen in all of my career. So I am actually an optimist that, as somebody said, you know, the glass ceiling, getting through the glass ceiling, it's actually a brick wall for black and minority, some black and minority health professionals. There's a lot to do, because there's a lot of black and minority health professionals in the NHS. And there's a lot in the lower tiers of the NHS. And we need more of them represented throughout the National... And contribute all their expertise. And, you know, COVID, we're in the second wave, and we're already seeing black and minority ethnic health professionals dying yet again. It's devastating. And, you know, at least reward them with a quality of life in the NHS that they deserve. And does being a dame grant you any special access or, you know, acceleration in your preoccupations? I think it surprises certain courts. When they see it, that's about it. Yeah, no, I... No, I know who is the answer. So you're called dame, and it just hasn't done anything for you, really? I tell you who where I've... I am actually quite embarrassed about a term like that, but I did accept the honour. But I tell you where I'm glad I did, because friends and colleagues said to me, Elizabeth, you have to think about others in our profession, the younger generation, or those that recently come in. And when I, before Covid, and even online, the response I get from that younger generation, both black and white, actually, but obviously have a particular interest, because of my own experiences with black and minority ethnic health, and the joy on their faces when they see this, you know, professor emeritus, professor of nursing, who looks like them, you know, who's not had all the experiences that they probably had. I mean, my life hasn't been that awful, you know, but I can see that it... Your life has been quite difficult, Elizabeth, and I do wonder... Yeah, my early life, yes. Yeah, but the final thought, really, that what also unites you and Mary, though we don't know how easy or difficult her early life may have been, is a kind of ability to put everything behind you and only look forwards, which I think does seem to be a uniting characteristic. Yes, I mean, I'm often asked, how on earth can I be so, I think, resilient as a popular word at the moment? How come I'm so upbeat? How did I manage to achieve what I've achieved, you know, despite occasional brutal aspects in my childhood, and it wasn't a stable childhood, obviously. And there's something from within, and I talk about deep-seated anger, but this deep-seated anger at injustice, at racism, at what my mother had to go through, some issues I've had to experience and issues in the world today. I've channeled that anger positively into energy, used in a positive way to campaign with others, and particularly in respect to sickle cell disease and joining Lord Soli's campaign for the Statue of Mary's Sequel, because that anger would have been turned inwardly in a negative way, and I would be one of those people who would have maybe had mental health problems. I have had high blood pressure, but it's managed, so that's where it's affected me, the stress, I think, and asthma and things like that. But I've fortunately recognised the strengths that I have, took me some time, you know, that I am intelligent, that I've got an ability to make friends, and those friends and relatives support me, and that I'm clear in what I want to do, and people have seen something in me and helped me along the way. And I've actually thoroughly enjoyed it, and actually, I've quite enjoyed the battles as well. I might surprise people. Well, thank you very much. I think what you've done tonight, actually, has made us realise that we can all probably battle a bit harder and put our money where our mouth is, if you like. So that is it from us for this evening. Thank you, Jamie, Elizabeth, Annie, Ani, Anwu. The Unfinished Business events continue, of course, and the exhibition is on until Sunday 21st of February. From us, good night. Can I thank you, Sharma, very much, and Bee, as well. Thank you so much. Thank you.