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, uncles of aunts and every combination between. However, as I entered my teen years, I found it difficult to identify with the Bengali culture. My Parents would often share stories of their childhood; growing up in the village, swimming in ponds and eating fresh belfoy. But I couldn’t connect with their memories - Bangladesh just seemed like a world away to me. My Parents would try to get us to speak Bangla when we were younger, but as my siblings and I grew older, we fell into the unfortunate habit of responding to my parents in English - slowly losing our ability to speak fluently in our mother tongue. My poor ability to speak Bangla symbolised the disconnect I had with the culture.

However, on entering secondary school, my identity was further challenged. I went to an all girls school that really lacked diversity, and I was one of only four students that came from an ethinic minority background in my year. I have distinct memories of pupils making racist comments about my family; on numerous occasions classmates would make fun of my parent’s accents, my Dad’s long beard and my Mum’s salwar kameez. It was clear to them that my parents were foreign, and I started to think that I would never fully be accepted as being British.

It was only upon entering University that I began to explore my Bengali heritage. I got a place at UCL’s Medical School, a proud moment for my Parents who had sacrificed so much for my education. On arriving, I decided to join UCL’s ‘Bangla Society’, eventually becoming President in my third year. It was here that I began to learn more about Bangladesh and its history. I learnt more about the fight for independence, the genocide inflicted on our country, how the people fought to maintain our culture and language. I started asking my Parents about their own experiences of the war. My Abu started sharing stories of his youth: my Dada was the chief of his village at the time. He would often hide and protect groups of individuals who were targeted by the Pakistani Army; Bangladeshi Hindus in particular. He described how the whole village would unite to protect those in danger whenever the Pakistani Army would come. I started fostering a sense of pride for my country, and its history. 

As a result, I was inspired to become a part of a charity called Maa (Maternal Aid Association). The organisation aims to improve Maternal Health outcomes in Bangladesh. I was lucky enough to go along with the charity to Bangladesh to help out in their Health Camps. This was the first time I visited the country by myself, and I fell in love. I fell in love with the liveliness, the picturesque landscapes and the people. I understood why my Parents missed the country so much. I felt connected to Bangladesh, and my culture, in a way that I have never felt before. 

Today, Bangladeshis in the UK are still very much a marginalised group, facing multiple inequalities. COVID-19 further highlights these disparities, with British Bangladeshis being twice as likely to die from COVID-19 than their white counterparts, despite only forming less than 1% of the British population. Such figures highlight a stark reality that needs to be addressed. Entering the Medical field, I hope to be an advocate for the Bangali Community, and to help tackle these inequalities that disproportionately affect us. But if there is one thing that I am constantly reminded of, it is that being Bengali means to be resilient, to defy all odds and to overcome hardships. When I think of my Parents' story, I am reminded of these traits and l know that the community, my community, will continue to persevere as we have done throughout history.

Written by Nazifa Ullah @NazifaU

Nazifa is currently a medical student at UCL, and works with charity @maacharityuk