By Abdul-lateef Awodele Picture by Tima Miroshnichenko on Unsplash.

By Aratrika Ganguly

By Ali Ahmad Safi Picture: The Medical Committee Afghanistan-Netherlands team. Source: MCAN.

My happiest childhood memories are set in a little village called Belua by the Jhinai river, in northern Bangladesh. Back in the 80s it had no electricity, which made it magical through my childlike eyes. We would arrive after a long trip from Dhaka using a bus, a rickshaw, then a boat, in the dark...my Uncle would call out to us across the river as we approached the village shores, and the…

For the first 7-8 years of my life, born and brought up in cosmopolitan Bombay, my milieu was hardcore Bangali – Bangla gaan (Bengali songs), kobita (poems), Robindra Shongeet, Bangla porikha, (bangla exams), borno porichoy, shohoj path (school textbooks in Bangla) etc. I was fortunate to have studied in a school in Bombay where our third language was Bengali. My summer vacations were spent…

Who would’ve guessed, They think I’m possessed. From the ward, I got released, For them now to call a priest. What’s wrong with me? East is east, And West is west. But there’s nothing cultural about it. I’m just depressed. But once again, Who would’ve guessed. They think I’m possessed. I was just a little stressed, How did I get in this mess. West is west, And east is east. I have an illness.…

Hello, my name's Saffrana Rahman. I am a British Bangladeshi. I’m 15 years old and I’m from Portsmouth. I live with my Dadi (Grandmother), Ammu (Mum), Baba (Dad), Brother, and Fergey, our cat. Growing up in a multi-generational house has always been the norm for me; my whole life I have lived with my Dadi and Dada (Grandfather), before he passed away. I loved my Dada a lot and miss him very much…

16th December, A New Nation Born 9 months of darkness, horror, death and destruction 3 million sacrificed, slaughtered, pillaged and displaced Frightened, fearless, fractured, unbroken, freedom prevailed 16th December, declaration of a new nation Blood and motherland enshrined Red rivers flow, red stains ingrained A time of jubilation, sorrow, joy, sadness

I have visited Bangladesh on four separate occasions. For most British Bangladeshi’s, visiting the motherland is a family affair. It serves as a rendezvous for family members to reunite with each other who live around the world. Of course, changes occur, like anything over time. My first three visits consisted of joy, happiness and unique experiences. My last one, however, was extremely profound…

Establishing my identity has been a complex journey. Being a second generation immigrant, I’ve struggled to feel a sense of belonging to either my British surroundings or my Bengali heritage. Growing up in a traditional Bengali household, I was raised on different types of maas, shukti, borta and saag. I became accustomed to constantly having guests in my house, meeting cousins of cousins,…