Activism: A young Asians Tale

Adopted from an interview with Shakeel Meer

When my father called us over in the 1960’s from Karachi, our new life in Leeds became all we now know. My mother was one of very few Asian women working on the Leeds market and I often worked alongside her. When I wasn’t at school, or at the Sunday Quran school at Jinnah mosque, on Leopold street, I was working on the market stall. We weren’t the only Asian family but alongside us, several Asian families from Kashmir and Pakistan, close to my dad, like the kotia brothers, uncle Sekri, uncle Abdullah and the Sulieman family.

But growing up, there were few recreational or social activities for young people, let alone for the Asian community. Aged 15, I would take the bus to Beeston , a few  nights a week, after a long day at school and the market, to learn Shotokan from an authentic Japanese Master, called Master Okenzawa. He would train anyone who was serious, often using local churches and halls, particularly the hall which preceded the existence of the Hamara Centre. Such training was highly valuable when you consider how often Asians could be targets of abuse and racism from strangers, often referred to as ‘Paki bashing’. I was always conscious of what was happening around me.

My parents would remind me, “If you want to complain about what’s happening, you need to see what you can do first…if you can make change, make the effort…if not, at least have the guts to stand up to injustice”.

Youth Club Days

Lots of local children were not really allowed to go beyond the back streets, where they were within the eyeline of their mothers. Some of the youth clubs I attempted to visit were dominated by Caucasian kids who’d often create an awkward and intimidating environment for kids from minority backgrounds. Some youth clubs would even deny entry, without good reason, often the look of us could deter them from allowing Asians in. Many of us felt slightly uneased and lost in how we identified, as Asians or Brits. my parents worked labour intensive jobs an we were raised not to debate with them.

This is where, at age 19, my interest in providing an alternative safe space for any kids including our own, stemming the beginning of my community activism. I would start by booking the hall at Harehills Primary School (known as the Bangladeshi Centre) every weekend. We’d have between 20-30 kids in on a night, on average.

We’d ask the kids to contribute what they could with the aim of raising £1 to cover the hire. This often required going to the community with a collection and paying out of my own pocket, as many of the kids couldn’t afford to give much. A £1 equated to two packs of cigarettes or the cost of a jumper in those days.

It was a basic youth club. The school would allow us to use their old table Tennis table and I would bring my own Badminton rackets and even the Karon board, which we had brought over from Pakistan. It was a game the older boys were particularly fond of. This youth club would continue to have success for the next 6 to 7 years until we moved to Harehills Place and re-established the youth club there.

By 1981, I was spending up to 6 nights a week running youth clubs ,alongside my good friends Javed khan and Ishtiaq Mir.

Bonfire Disturbances

I remember in 1981, disturbances in Noting Hill and riots in London began to spread through the country, in response to reports of police relate racism and profiling against minorities. It was late July and the summer had been long and particularly hot.

I was contacted by concerned parents as two young lads, aged 10/11were missing. I had an old wireless short band radio C.B. radio which was legal to buy but not really to have on your person. I was using it to communicate with friends as we tried to find the boys and bring them back.

That night, I was stopped, questioned, arrested and accused by officers for aggravating and assisting in the riots, through the use of m radio, which was very farfetched. I will never forget how the custody sergeant, whilst taking my details, raised his hands and clapped both sides of my ears.

When I challenged his actions, another officer came behind me, punched me on my side and referred to me as a ‘mouthy Paki’.

I learned that night that institutional racism existed and that regardless of my upbringing and education in the U.k, to some, I was seen as inferior. I hated the idea of using your position or rank to feel invincible and able to get away with unethical practises. But that is an event I value as it opened my eyes to the in just acts, which would drive my passions until the days I myself would be in a position of legal responsibility, as a magistrate by 1994.

The Asian Campaigner

I will never forget the day someone came running to me at the market. My dad had been attacked by two members of the national front, on the other side of the market. When I made my way there, I saw two tall young Caucasian men, sat on top of my father, like he was worthless. Of course, I tackled them off and awaited the police to arrive, realising that they were silly teenage boys, trying to catch attention.

It was a regular occurrence on the market, particularly on a Saturday after the football. Drunk young men would come into the market and target the Asian market traders. Skinheads, as they were known, would spit, hurl racist slurs, knock items and try to aggravate traders, through their disruptive behaviour.

Not only would we receive abuse from customers, but sometimes even from the market superintendents. When my father came to the UK, he would have to come earlier to the market to be given his pitch and often sent to the back of the queue, despite coming early, whilst white traders were often given the better pitches first. This was nothing new.

As much as they tried to deter and intimidate us, we were proud to be a part of the city centre market. This market represented the people of Leeds, offering a cheaper alternative for food and clothing for those who could not afford to shop across the road on the Headrow. The market was where so many of us had started off, some elders had started off with a suitcase of clothing.

It was important to encourage representation, so, in 1982, was involved I setting up the Leeds Asian market traders association, a sub group to the main market traders’ group. This created a space for Asian traders to voice concerns, share information and opportunities which were not always made available to them and seek advice on trading matters.

We became particularly involved in a major protest against the proposal of Dutch development company, MAD (UK), who wished to build a whole new shopping centre on top of the historic market. The government enquiry that followed included statements from Asian traders, such as myself. The judgment ruled in our favour and the market was saved after a collective effort.

I would be involved in a number of other campaigns, protests and projects to support the community over the 1980’s and 190’s but I will always appreciate the lessons taken from my parents that ‘Doing speaks louder than talk’.