Felix Desmarais: Royals seem like a part of the family

The world has changed since Queen Elizabeth II and my mother were in Kenya, but with respect to my mum, it has been a long time, writes Felix Desmarais. Photo / File

OPINION

My Nanna used to speak to her dog, Millie, in Swahili.

It was a bit of a party trick, but it did appear Millie, a long-haired dachshund born and bred in Taranaki, was more affable to commands in the native language of the Waswahili, of the East African coast, than the Queen's English.

Nanna's ability in the language came from her time spent in Kenya while my grandfather worked for British Rail establishing the rail line to Mombasa. It also meant, in 1960, my mother was born in Nairobi.

A British citizen nonetheless, it was quite amusing when, upon receiving her New Zealand citizenship, Tauranga City Council kindly printed out a Kenyan flag on an A4 piece of paper for her.

My mum had no memory of Kenya, having left at just seven months old, and spent her entire life besides the first three years in Aotearoa New Zealand. She's about as Kiwi as they come.

My mother was born in Kenya eight years after the late Queen Elizabeth II ascended a mgumu tree at the Treetops Hotel a princess and descended a queen.

This probably contributed to why I got a little bit confused about exactly who the royal family was … I thought it was ours.

My great grandma also emigrated from Britain to New Zealand and I had the privilege to know her until I was 11, when she died at 96.

But here in my family were two grey-haired Englishwomen with "posh" accents. One was the younger, powerful matriarch of the family, and the other older, the dowager. Never mind the Yorkshire Hull accent is quite far removed from Received Pronunciation - this was the Queen and the Queen Mother. My Nanna and Grandma.

It wasn't until I was about 10 - really embarrassingly late - that I realised they weren't one and the same.

The presupposition was I was a prince. Many would say that, for this youngest son, I still do think that. Especially if you ask my elder sister. Though I note as I was born before the rules were changed, it is I who should accede to the throne.

My grandmothers were very fond of the monarchy (another reason I probably thought we were all the same - "family photos" of Charles and Diana on the tea towels) and I grew up soaking in that love and appreciation for them.

Even beyond my childhood confusions, they really did seem part of the family. Something that was ours, as the British. There was security in the reliability of tradition and ritual, of a hierarchy and settled order.

I loved all of my grandmothers dearly. But as I grew up, I did not always agree with what they said and did and that sometimes made me uncomfortable. We were of different times.

It makes sense to me that there is still a longing for the times of old for some - especially those with British lineage.

It's the same attachment I felt for my grandmothers despite our values sometimes being in conflict.

I have empathy for that longing. For that simplicity. It is an emotional attachment and such things are hard to break even with critical thought and detachment.

All of them gone, I long for their warmth, their assuring presence and the hierarchy of our family they represented.

While they were here, I could remain the prince and never the king. It was safe. But things change and we must all grow up.

The world has changed since Queen Elizabeth II and my mother were in Kenya, but with respect to my mum, it has been a long time.

Sometimes it takes time to climb down from the mgumu tree and into a new era.

- >Felix Desmarais is a journalist and mostly-former stand-up comedian who sold out very cheaply.