Publish : 11 Dec 2021, 01:50 AMUpdate : 11 Dec 2021, 01:50 AM
During the turbulent times of the Liberation War of 1971, my father, Syed Mutahir Uddin, was considered “the most wanted man in tea” by the Pakistan Army. He was also the most loving “Uddin Bhai” for the young and the old.
My father played a pivotal role in supporting the freedom movement, especially in the tea region of Sylhet. Meetings were regularly held in our bungalow, running late into the nights. He would ensure both food supplies and medical facilities alongside coordinating with local politicians and making movement safe within the tea estates.
The tea estates in Srimangal and beyond were liberated areas for a long time, even as the areas surrounding the region were strongholds of the Pakistan army. At the end of April, the freedom fighters' resistance fell, following air and land attacks. My father knew it was time to retreat, so he made arrangements for his family and colleagues to cross into India. After an uncertain night as refugees, on the veranda of the Indian Border Thana, we arrived in Agartala the next evening and subsequently to Kolkata where we stayed for nine months.
My father, shortly after, was recalled into service by the Bangladesh government and posted to the 1st Bengal Brigade (Z-Force). Their tents were set up in the jungles, and he wrote in his biography, “Despite precautions, we could not escape the leeches, insect, and mosquito bites.” His knowledge of the entire tea belt had helped in planning and carrying out extensive defence strategies.
My father’s engagement in defence began with the Royal Indian Navy during World War II while he was a student at Dhaka University. After his release from the Navy, in the summer of 1946, my father joined the tea industry with the James Finlay Tea and Lands as an assistant manager in Naharani Tea Estate in Assam. He spent six years in various estates there. Being the first Bengali planter, he was fondly called “kala sahib” by the garden workers.
He was transferred to Sylhet in 1952, when visas were introduced and currency was no longer interchangeable. In Sylhet, my father was the first Bengali to helm the Balisera Division, the largest estate of the James Finlay Tea and Lands Company in Pakistan. His last posting during the freedom movement was to the highly regarded Deanston Tea Estate, the only garden at Finlay’s with a British name.
He worked in Jafflong Tea Estate, with its pristine environment of crystal blue waters, hillocks with rare orchids, wildflowers, orange orchards, birds, and vegetation, which sadly, is a site of chaotic stone quarrying and haphazard settlements now. He made a mark in whichever estate he was placed in. Khadim Tea Estate still has an extension called Uddin section. In Balisera, he modernized the factory, expanded the fields, introduced irrigation, experimented with cold weather leaf production, tackled water logging problems, started rubber and ‘Finlay coffee’ production, and built both labour quarters and a central hospital. For a brief period he headed the Chittagong Head office tea department, transferring to an urban life which he never quite appreciated as he missed the life of the tea gardens.
Being a tea planter was a 24-hour job, starting at dawn and often continuing into the wee hours of the night. Utilities we take for granted were unavailable. Oil lamps, hand pulled large cloth pankhas (fans) provided the luxury. It was not “all work and no play” though. Planters clubs in all the tea valleys were vibrant -- families would come together for colourful social events like sporting competitions, charity events, and movie screenings for children.
It was my father’s nature to excel in whatever he did. He worked tirelessly and sincerely, both in the field and the office. As a young planter, he had surprised his colleagues when a tea invoice from Naharani sold at a much higher rate than the average auction price at Calcutta, the then auction centre.
At times, the call for duty comes in diverse ways. The tea estates of Assam are surrounded by dense forests. Royal Bengal tigers and leopards often invaded the labour lines causing death and panic. On one such incident, a tiger was seen roaming around, triggering a wave of alarm among workers. My father, young with unbounded courage and sharp shooting skills, took the situation into his own hands. These ventures were laced with nerve wracking experiences, which were also the cause for deep remorse in his twilight days for killing wildlife which he loved so dearly.
Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was the first Bengali chair of the Bangladesh Tea Board in the late 50s. On his first visit to Sylhet, my father went to the railway station to welcome him. He was invited to the circuit house and later had an informal meeting at the private residence of Ameenur Rasheed Chowdhury. My father was honoured to brief the minister about the tea industry and took the opportunity to point at the discrimination in the recruitment of Bengali planters by the overseas companies. The conversation had produced positive results thereafter.
On the family front, he ensured that all four of his daughters completed liberal tertiary education, even though the tea area did not have educational facilities. Leaving us safe and engaged in India, he left us for the front and re-entered Sylhet to prevent the looting of assets in the estates.
In a newly born Bangladesh, my father moved to Dhaka opting to join the reconstruction efforts. He was appointed by the government to rehabilitate the tea industry which had fallen into decay with far too many abandoned, ‘sick’ gardens. The Bangladesh Tea Management Committee was formed which he led, and subsequently he led the National Tea Company and retired as its chair in 1990, having led an illustrious career in the tea industry.
He wrote his memoir Sea to Tea -- Reflections of a Life (Baatighar, 2019), which he continued to write until his twilight days. Orphaned at three and growing up in a modest household, he mustered monumental confidence, courage, commitment, and compassion to build a life of purpose, leaving a tremendous legacy, and a lesson for all of us to take and cherish.
Abba, you would have turned 100 this November. Your humanistic ideals and work ethic live on with us 20 years after you left us on this day on December 11, 2001.
Zarina Hossain is an architect and an urban planner.
The tea planter and the patriot
During the turbulent times of the Liberation War of 1971, my father, Syed Mutahir Uddin, was considered “the most wanted man in tea” by the Pakistan Army. He was also the most loving “Uddin Bhai” for the young and
the old.
My father played a pivotal role in supporting the freedom movement, especially in the tea region of Sylhet. Meetings were regularly held in our bungalow, running late into the nights. He would ensure both food supplies and medical facilities alongside coordinating with local politicians and making movement safe within the tea estates.
The tea estates in Srimangal and beyond were liberated areas for a long time, even as the areas surrounding the region were strongholds of the Pakistan army. At the end of April, the freedom fighters' resistance fell, following air and land attacks. My father knew it was time to retreat, so he made arrangements for his family and colleagues to cross into India. After an uncertain night as refugees, on the veranda of the Indian Border Thana, we arrived in Agartala the next evening and subsequently to Kolkata where we stayed for nine months.
My father, shortly after, was recalled into service by the Bangladesh government and posted to the 1st Bengal Brigade (Z-Force). Their tents were set up in the jungles, and he wrote in his biography, “Despite precautions, we could not escape the leeches, insect, and mosquito bites.” His knowledge of the entire tea belt had helped in planning and carrying out extensive defence strategies.
My father’s engagement in defence began with the Royal Indian Navy during World War II while he was a student at Dhaka University. After his release from the Navy, in the summer of 1946, my father joined the tea industry with the James Finlay Tea and Lands as an assistant manager in Naharani Tea Estate in Assam. He spent six years in various estates there. Being the first Bengali planter, he was fondly called “kala sahib” by the garden workers.
He was transferred to Sylhet in 1952, when visas were introduced and currency was no longer interchangeable. In Sylhet, my father was the first Bengali to helm the Balisera Division, the largest estate of the James Finlay Tea and Lands Company in Pakistan. His last posting during the freedom movement was to the highly regarded Deanston Tea Estate, the only garden at Finlay’s with a British name.
He worked in Jafflong Tea Estate, with its pristine environment of crystal blue waters, hillocks with rare orchids, wildflowers, orange orchards, birds, and vegetation, which sadly, is a site of chaotic stone quarrying and haphazard settlements now. He made a mark in whichever estate he was placed in. Khadim Tea Estate still has an extension called Uddin section. In Balisera, he modernized the factory, expanded the fields, introduced irrigation, experimented with cold weather leaf production, tackled water logging problems, started rubber and ‘Finlay coffee’ production, and built both labour quarters and a central hospital. For a brief period he headed the Chittagong Head office tea department, transferring to an urban life which he never quite appreciated as he missed the life of the tea gardens.
Being a tea planter was a 24-hour job, starting at dawn and often continuing into the wee hours of the night. Utilities we take for granted were unavailable. Oil lamps, hand pulled large cloth pankhas (fans) provided the luxury. It was not “all work and no play” though. Planters clubs in all the tea valleys were vibrant -- families would come together for colourful social events like sporting competitions, charity events, and movie screenings
for children.
It was my father’s nature to excel in whatever he did. He worked tirelessly and sincerely, both in the field and the office. As a young planter, he had surprised his colleagues when a tea invoice from Naharani sold at a much higher rate than the average auction price at Calcutta, the then auction centre.
At times, the call for duty comes in diverse ways. The tea estates of Assam are surrounded by dense forests. Royal Bengal tigers and leopards often invaded the labour lines causing death and panic. On one such incident, a tiger was seen roaming around, triggering a wave of alarm among workers. My father, young with unbounded courage and sharp shooting skills, took the situation into his own hands. These ventures were laced with nerve wracking experiences, which were also the cause for deep remorse in his twilight days for killing wildlife which he loved so dearly.
Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman was the first Bengali chair of the Bangladesh Tea Board in the late 50s. On his first visit to Sylhet, my father went to the railway station to welcome him. He was invited to the circuit house and later had an informal meeting at the private residence of Ameenur Rasheed Chowdhury. My father was honoured to brief the minister about the tea industry and took the opportunity to point at the discrimination in the recruitment of Bengali planters by the overseas companies. The conversation had produced positive results thereafter.
On the family front, he ensured that all four of his daughters completed liberal tertiary education, even though the tea area did not have educational facilities. Leaving us safe and engaged in India, he left us for the front and re-entered Sylhet to prevent the looting of assets in the estates.
In a newly born Bangladesh, my father moved to Dhaka opting to join the reconstruction efforts. He was appointed by the government to rehabilitate the tea industry which had fallen into decay with far too many abandoned, ‘sick’ gardens. The Bangladesh Tea Management Committee was formed which he led, and subsequently he led the National Tea Company and retired as its chair in 1990, having led an illustrious career in the tea industry.
He wrote his memoir Sea to Tea -- Reflections of a Life (Baatighar, 2019), which he continued to write until his twilight days. Orphaned at three and growing up in a modest household, he mustered monumental confidence, courage, commitment, and compassion to build a life of purpose, leaving a tremendous legacy, and a lesson for all of us to take and cherish.
Abba, you would have turned 100 this November. Your humanistic ideals and work ethic live on with us 20 years after you left us on this day on December 11, 2001.
Zarina Hossain is an architect and an urban planner.