plan in motion, another surprise was waiting for me: I received an official memo from Air HQ that I was selected to attend a six-week British Army course at Chattenden in Kent, England, which would start in a few weeks. I agreed to attend the course in England and asked the KFF if they could place a hold on my scholarship offer.
Soon, I was back in London again.
★ ★ ★
My six-week stay in Kent was memorable not only for its tough training and long fasts, since Ramadan fell that July, but also for finding my life partner, Sayeda. Fasting was a challenge for two reasons: sleep deprivation, given I had to wake up and eat before dawn (suhur); and day-long physical training during the summer months. As my stay there was longer than fifteen days, I could not call myself a traveller (musafir), which allowed observant Muslims to excuse themselves from fasting. However, with intention and determination, and with God's mercy, I survived. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
I met Sayeda's older brother by accident, but it was a meeting that was to change my life forever. As the journey to London was just over an hour by train, I would visit Whitechapel for a couple of weekends to relax and meet the friends I had made last time. One weekend, I bumped into a well-dressed gentleman in the East London Mosque, which was then still just a hut. I recognized his face as someone I had met in Dhaka, at a mutual friend's house. Firdaws was a few years older than me, but was very sociable and we had a good chat. I discovered that he had come to London two years earlier to do a course leading to chartered accountancy. When he learned that I was living near Rochester, he offered to visit me at the officers' mess, as he often came to Rochester to help his brother-in-law in running a restaurant.
He arrived the following weekend. He told me he hailed from Bangladesh's southern district of Faridpur, but had settled further south in Barisal. We talked on many issues, including our future plans in life, and in that relaxed conversation the issue of marriage naturally came up. He was married with a little daughter and by that time I had also been thinking of getting married myself, and had always been fairly straightforward. So without much thought, I said: 'Firdaws bhai (respected brother), you've now learned something about me. If you come across a suitable girl for me, please let me know.' It was normal at that time to seek assistance about marriage from friends. He thought for a while: 'Yes, I may know someone who you might like!' he warmly replied. 'This girl I'm talking about,' he said, 'has been brilliant since her primary years; she recently sat her final economics exam from Dhaka University and is waiting for the result. Her father is a senior education officer, and her brothers and sisters are all settled in their life after higher education. Most importantly, she's been brought up in an honest family with good religious practice.'
He gave me some more information, before adding: 'If you feel positive and want to know more about this girl, I can inform her family but they will want to know about your background as well.' I gave him some brief details about me and my family. Before parting, he said: 'If you are really serious about the girl please let me know before you return to Bangladesh and I can inform her family.'
'I'll definitely let you know, inshallah', I said.
A few days later I got a call from Firdaws: 'Bari bhai, I thought I would visit you again, but cannot due to my work pressure. I didn't disclose on that day that the girl I mentioned is my younger sister, Sayeda. I discussed with Sayeda and my family about you and they want to see you. From my side, I think you two would probably be a good match. After your return, if you want to see her then just contact my family directly.' I thought it was very positive news.
Once back in Bangladesh, I had two immediately personal jobs in hand: to find someone who could give reliable information on Sayeda, and to kick-start the process of applying for my PhD. Through one of my friends I came to know a college lecturer, of about my age, in Dhaka's Maghbazar area who knew Firdaws. He was from a district in western Bangladesh, but had recently got married in the city of Barisal. I called him one evening and asked how much he knew of Firdaws' family. He responded: 'I know them well; my wife also knows Sayeda very well.' I visited him the next evening and learnt more about Sayeda and her family. It was all very positive and I asked if he would become an intermediary for us. I then went home and informed my father and family of my course of action. Everyone was delighted and I was given the go-ahead to proceed.
What followed from then on was simple: Sayeda and I exchanged pictures, she must have heard plenty about me from her brother, and I asked if she could come to Dhaka and stay in a relative's house. My auntie in Azimpur (in old Dhaka) spent plenty of time with her and gave me a favourable description of Sayeda and her personality. The following day I went to see her and we 'connected' straight away. I felt an immediate bond as we shared information about our lives, our likes, dislikes and ambitions for life. We spoke for hours and both felt we should agree to tie the knot – and straight away, I said. It was a momentous decision and I couldn't sleep that night. The thought of not being alone anymore and a sudden sense of responsibility weighed on my mind. I later learned that Sayeda had spent a similar few nights thinking the same. The rest was a formality that would be sorted out between the families. I informed my father and brother of my choice and asked my father to visit Barisal and meet Sayeda himself. He stayed for couple of days in their house and came back with a smile. We were married on 10 October 1981.
Marriage in Islam is seen as a blessing. Husbands and wives are mentioned as a 'pair' or 'garments to each other' in the Qur'an. When a man and a woman, with their unique and complementary features, join in union it brings two families together. Our marriage has indeed been a blessed one ever since.
★ ★ ★
As I was arranging my marriage, I was also continuing my efforts to enrol for a PhD in the UK. In early September 1981, as I was getting ready for my wedding in October, I received an offer letter from Chelsea College (which became part of King's College a few years later). I consulted my Air Force friends and wrote directly to the Chief of Air Staff (CoAS) pleading for a three year leave, with a firm pledge that on completion of the PhD I would return to complete my service in the BAF. His response came after my short honeymoon was over: my application was rejected. The CoAS was forthright in his response, saying that he was personally willing to give me the opportunity but had to take into account the opinion of my Branch head, who disapproved on the grounds that I was 'indispensable' to the Armament Branch. I was heartbroken, but remembered my father's teachings of reliance on God. Sayeda was calm; she was confident that some good would come from this.
About a week later, at an informal event in the officers' mess, I managed to get near the CoAS and briefly (and politely) raised the issue with him. My Branch head was around and I could see the annoyance on his face. I was still a junior officer, but the CoAS remembered my case, although he could only express his sadness. I realized I would be chastised for this break in protocol and within the week I was told that I would be posted to Chittagong Air Base, about 165 miles from Dhaka on Bangladesh's south east coast, from New Year's Day, 1982. My hopes were dashed and I left for Chittagong with a broken spirit. Sayeda moved in with her parents in Barisal while I tried to keep myself busy: working in the office by day, doing sports in the late afternoon and studying in the evening. On the weekends I would visit Barisal to see Sayeda, or spend time in the city, as I had plenty of friends there having studied at Chittagong University.
Being a hyperactive sportsman I came to the attention of the Base commander, a senior Group Captain. He was very sociable and one evening I raised the subject of my PhD with him. He appeared sympathetic, thought for a while and told me that he would write to the Air Secretary directly to hear my case. I did not expect he would actually do this, but soon after I received an invitation for a meeting in Dhaka. I flew by BAF transport aircraft and appeared before the Air Secretary. To my trepidation, the meeting started with a verbal assault: 'How dare you talk with the Base Commander once the CoAS had already written to you!' I politely explained how important this was to my life, but he did not budge and with a stern tone advised me not to do raise it again. I returned to Chittagong downhearted and briefed
