John Pugh, with his bushy beard, was a computer whiz and an excellent programmer; Dr Len Dissado was the brains and a theorist in his area of theoretical physics; Terry Ramdeen was always available to help. Professor Jonscher's PA, the always smiling Josephine Woropay, was motherly and a wizard with her typing and organizing of the whole team. There were often lively discussions around the table, especially during lunch hour, and professors Jonscher and Hill, as well as some guests, would often participate. There were also occasional seminars on our research, and we would take turns to present our findings. It felt frightening in the beginning, but gave us confidence and a good grounding on what we were doing. The Dielectrics Group, led by Jonscher, was well known in the world of physics research and we all felt proud to be a part of the group.
Life was moving fast. In order to finish my PhD by summer 1986 I led a ruthlessly disciplined life. I was on course with my progress and Professor Jonscher was happy as well. During the second and third years I co-authored with him a few papers that were published in international journals, and began writing my PhD thesis at the beginning of my third year. In 1985, the New Year started with huge discussions and concerns within London University about the merger of smaller colleges with big ones to save costs. We learned that Chelsea and Queen Elizabeth Colleges were merging with King's College, and our links with King's Physics Department, in its Strand campus, started growing.
All the while I was studying for my PhD I continued to visit east London, by this time my favourite part of the city. Aziz Bhai and I were helping some young Bangladeshi boys with their GCSE and A-level mathematics and science examinations, and most of them later performed very well in life. A few were involved with a group known as the Young Muslim Organization (YMO), which was originally founded in 1978. As most other members of YMO were Bengali-speaking, this small group was struggling to blend in with the majority. Our time spent voluntary tutoring both the English-speaking boys and interacting with the Bengalispeaking YMO youngsters kept me in touch with the East End and its Bangladeshi people, particularly the East London Mosque. By 1985, the ELM was no longer just a shed, and the first phase of the multi-purpose mosque that stands today had been completed. Through this group I gradually entered deeper into the world of youth and community work in Tower Hamlets. Although I lived in south London, I had quickly become part and parcel of east London, an East Ender-by-proxy, you might say.
I was coming towards the end of my thesis, and submitted the completed work in mid-May 1986. My oral examination date was fixed for July 1986 and I was preparing for the PhD 'viva voce', or defence of my thesis. On 26 May we were blessed with another child, this time our first boy, Raiyan. We were overjoyed and I informed Jonscher of the good news. With a huge smile, he said: 'Congratulations! Now you are completing one PhD with two children!' After some chat about the viva, he looked into my eyes and said: 'Bari, you know Chelsea has merged with King's, but I've decided to move to Royal Holloway College and set up a laboratory there. Would you like to join me?'
I realized that I had not seriously given much thought about what I would do after completing my PhD. I expressed my gratitude and said: 'I'll definitely go with you if you need me. But for how long?' He replied: 'I've funding for three years for two posts.' It was a great relief, I would not have to immediately plan about the future. I learned that the other person who was invited was Enapu Owede, my co-researcher from Nigeria.
In July I faced my viva, which was gruelling, to say the least. There was a natural tension, but I was confident that I would get through. Once the viva was finished, I was asked to wait. Within a few minutes the external examiner and Professor Jonscher came out smiling and congratulated me: 'Dr Bari, you've defended your work very well. We'll recommend your name to the university senate. It's just a formality. You will need to make small changes in some places.' They shook my hands and Professor Jonscher handed over couple of pages to me for amendment. I gave them massive thanks, ran to the telephone booth and called Sayeda to give her the great news. My dream was fulfilled! I gave thanks to God. For the rest of the day, Sayeda and I shared the news with our families in Bangladesh and close friends in London.
After about a month's rest, in August 1986 I started my work as a postdoctoral researcher at Royal Holloway College.
Into The World of Community Activism
IT WAS EARLY 1987, and my postdoctoral research on semiconductor physics at the Royal Holloway College started in earnest. The campus was in a pleasant hilly location, just over a mile west from the village of Egham, not far from Heathrow Airport. Royal Holloway College was a public research university within the federal University of London.
Working at Royal Holloway College was my first full time job in the UK, albeit on a temporary work permit and an initial contract for three years. Professor Jonscher excelled at securing research funding from various British and American industries. Our laboratory was quiet, as there were only the two of us working there, but Professor Jonscher often came to our lab to oversee and discuss the progress of our work and A-level students from the Greater London area occasionally visited us. After a few weeks of separate journeys by car, Enapu and I decided to car pool to share the burden of cost, as well as the long drive to and from London.
As I settled into my research with a few more publications, Sayeda and I also went through some serious thinking about our future with our two young children. I had a burning desire to return to Bangladesh and serve my own country, a place that had given me so much. 'How could I give something back' was always in my mind. I sounded out with friends and extended family members in Bangladesh whether there were any suitable job opportunities in the capital, Dhaka. I preferred Dhaka because it was near my home and it would allow us to provide better education facilities for our children. But I didn't get much encouragement and some even questioned my desire to return.
In the summer of 1987, we decided to visit Bangladesh to explore the situation directly. We stayed for couple of weeks but surprisingly both extended families, as well as close friends, advised us to stay in the UK, or even move to the US; they honestly felt we would not be able to financially survive in Dhaka. Both Sayeda and I came from modest financial backgrounds, with no other sources of income except the earnings from our jobs; if we decided to settle down in Dhaka we would have had to find extra work to top up our income. I turned to other friends, some of whom were in high positions already. Most of them suggested I would do better in the UK. Only one friend, a few years older than me, instantly offered me a senior non-academic job in a new private university. I was aware of the new emerging universities in Dhaka, and as I knew there were no pure science departments in any of them, I politely rejected the offer. However, we seriously considered such a role: could I give up physics and take a senior management job just for more money? I could not reconcile myself to the idea. We returned to the UK undecided, but I had not given up the idea of going back to Bangladesh – I just could not be so sure about that move, either.
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Life could have been relaxed if I had just stuck with my research, but I felt I should use my weekends and holidays to go to east London and extend my support to the young people there. I spent more and more time in the East London Mosque, which by now served a congregation of around 3,000 people, with a main prayer hall on the ground floor and a multipurpose hall in the basement. My friend Aziz and I continued to expand our efforts to help GCSE and A-level students, and we saw huge potential in them. Some were now gravitating onto adult education courses, switching away from work in the garment trade and restaurant business. We decided to talk to the parents of some of the most promising boys, trying to encourage them to be more 'aspirational' with their children.
Most parents felt that a good knowledge of Islam was important; many also had a special attachment with their local mosque, and wanted their children to be well educated. We convinced some
