Krishna Gubili’s Viriah (2018) is a remarkable and timely contribution to the growing body of Girmitiya literature. The book stands out not only for its literary merit but also for its methodological and emotional depth. It departs from two persistent biases in existing scholarship on indentureship: first, the overwhelming focus on labourers from northern India, and second, the tendency to narrate stories exclusively through the lens of those who directly experienced indentureship. Gubili challenges both tendencies by tracing the journey of his South Indian ancestor, Viriah, who migrated to South Africa as an indentured labourer, thus opening a fresh geographical and generational perspective.
The Search for Origins: Memory, Family, and Return
The author’s quest begins with a deeply personal impulse — an effort to trace his family’s roots and reconnect with his great-grandfather’s story before his grandmother passed away. This framing gives Viriah a dual character: it is both historical reconstruction and intergenerational dialogue. The search to understand why his forefather returned — a rare act given that only a small fraction of Girmitiyas ever did — gives the narrative an intimate urgency.
Gubili vividly documents the methodological difficulties of reconstructing indenture histories. Colonial archives often contain inaccurate data — distorted names, incorrect ages, fabricated castes, and mistaken religious identities — making it nearly impossible to match records with oral histories. His struggle to reconcile archival evidence with family memory forms one of the most engaging sections of the early chapters.
Indenture as Deception and Displacement
Once the author identifies his ancestor’s record, the narrative expands to situate individual suffering within larger historical processes. The book powerfully explains how colonial economic disruptions, combined with natural disasters and agrarian decline, pushed impoverished Indians to accept indentureship. Recruiters, or arkatis, often deceived people with promises of wealth and easy return. Gubili reconstructs these manipulations — from recruitment depots to shipboard conditions — exposing the coercive underbelly of so-called “voluntary” migration.
The Voyage: Bonds Beyond Boundaries
Among the most compelling sections are those describing the voyage aboard the ship Umkuzi, which carried over 600 passengers. Here, Gubili documents the transformation of social hierarchies. Onboard, caste boundaries dissolved, and all were reduced to a shared identity — “coolies.” As the author poignantly observes, “Thousands of years of social structures and customs crumbled at the indenture altar. On the ship, they all blended into one shade: poor and desperate for a better life. They became jahaji bhai — ship brothers.” This line encapsulates a profound sociological truth: migration, even under coercion, can forge new solidarities.
The text also delves into sexual violence aboard ships, particularly against women like Rangamma, whose stories reveal the gendered brutality of indenture. The skewed sex ratio and lack of protection left women doubly victimized — by colonial authority and by their own community. Gubili treats these narratives with sensitivity and scholarly precision, grounding them in both empathy and evidence.
Labour, Surveillance, and Survival
The subsequent chapters trace the journey of the indentured in the sugar plantations of Natal. Through vivid storytelling, Gubili reconstructs the seasonal rhythm of labour — planting, growing, harvesting, and milling — using this agricultural cycle as a metaphor for life itself. The exploitative plantation hierarchy is well captured: the estate owner, the overseer or sirdar (often former labourers from Calcutta), the interpreter, and finally the coolies, who endured relentless exploitation. The pass system, which restricted even basic mobility, effectively imprisoned workers within the estates.
The book documents how, despite these conditions, workers created micro-worlds of joy and resilience. They sang, danced, and forged new relationships that transcended caste and religion. The friendship between Viriah, Shaikh, and Venkatsami exemplifies this — a story of solidarity formed under duress.
Return, Loss, and Re-rooting
After years of bondage, the promise of freedom proved illusory. On completion of the five-year contract, labourers like Viriah discovered they had to pay exorbitant sums (around ten pounds) to return home — effectively forcing re-indenture. This vicious cycle of debt and dependency mirrors modern bonded labour systems.
Gubili’s later chapters explore the ethical and emotional dilemma of return migration, an issue that resonates far beyond the indenture era. Through Viriah’s story, the author examines why most Girmitiyas chose not to return. Factors included economic hardship, social ostracism (the kala pani taboo), loss of family ties, and the realization that colonial India offered no better future. Gubili quotes a Greek philosopher aptly: “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it is not the same river and he is not the same man.” This encapsulates the transformation of identity that migration entails — a core question in diaspora studies.
Reunion and Reflection
The later chapters, dealing with Viriah’s eventual return, are deeply moving. His discovery that his parents had died and his family had disintegrated captures the tragic irony of return — home becomes a stranger’s land. The exploitation by relatives and subsequent personal losses intensify the sense of displacement. Yet, the story comes full circle when descendants in India and South Africa reconnect generations later — a symbolic restoration of the fragmented diaspora.
In its final reflections, Gubili draws a bold parallel between the indenture system and the modern Gulf kafala system, suggesting that even in the postcolonial world, migrant labour continues to operate under structures of surveillance and control. This comparison powerfully situates the book within contemporary migration discourse.
Methodology and Contribution
What makes Viriah exceptional is its combination of archival research, oral history, and narrative reconstruction. Gubili successfully blends quantitative documentation (ship records, plantation data) with qualitative human stories, giving the reader both emotional immediacy and analytical depth. Few works capture the full “circle” of indentureship — from departure and suffering abroad to return and re-assimilation in India — as comprehensively as this book.
Conclusion
Viriah is not merely a family chronicle; it is a social document that restores dignity to forgotten lives. It demonstrates how the Girmitiya story is not frozen in the past but continues to shape diasporic consciousness today. In tracing one man’s voyage from India to Natal and back, Krishna Gubili has mapped the moral geography of migration — its deception, endurance, and longing for home.
For scholars of diaspora, migration, and indenture studies, this book is indispensable. It bridges personal memory and collective history, reminding us that the making of the Indian diaspora is not just about movement across oceans but also about the emotional archaeology of return.
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