Town Talk | From Pakistan to Melbourne: Seema’s story

No matter how successful our new council may be, I now realise that it would have been richer and wiser with Seema as part of it.

We met, at my favourite chat and coffee place, last Tuesday, and time was limited, as Seema had another appointment.

There was so much to talk about, so we started at the beginning.

Seema was born in Pakistan and raised in Islamabad, the capital city, where she completed her education from early schooling to tertiary studies.

She graduated with an MBA and obtained a job.

After starting her career in 1991, she won a scholarship to do a second master’s degree in London.

Seema was happy; she loved her family and her new working life — but London was calling. (As it has called many of us during our lives.)

Islamabad has a population of just over one million people. London (today) houses almost nine million.

It would be different! It was 1994.

Seema loved her time in London and spoke about it for some time.

It was an amazing learning opportunity. She met people just about everywhere.

She formed friendships with people from all over the world, from Guatemala to Kenya to Australia, and for the first time, with people from India — Pakistan’s closest neighbour, sharing a rich history yet marked by rivalry.

She could sufficiently understand the language of those from northern India.

There are, she told me, many languages spoken across the subcontinent.

In London, someone from India curiously asked her what she had thought about people from India.

She replied, “Exactly what you had thought about people from Pakistan.”

I thought about Lord Mountbatten and the enormous power he had had over these people as he told them where they would live — like it or not.

She smiled at my anger, “We like having our own country.”

She took the conversation back to London, which, among many other things, taught her to appreciate Pakistan’s fruits, especially the delicious bananas.

The bananas in England, she said, lacked taste and aroma, and when she tried them, she missed home. (Ours are not good either!)

However, her experiences in this multicultural and cosmopolitan city were powerful.

It sounded to me as if, for the first time, she truly understood that people could be different — have different belief systems — but still work and play together, understand one another and establish friendships.

Some of those friendships remain important to her today.

She successfully completed her studies and did some travelling before returning home in 1996.

Home again

It was good to be home, and I’m assuming she ate a banana or two.

Old friends were visiting, including an ‘uncle’ and ‘aunty’ she had known all her life — in fact, her ‘uncle’ and her father had studied together at college.

The ‘uncle’ and ‘aunty’ brought their son for a visit.

It was sheer coincidence that she had never met their son, who had also been in London.

He was a surgeon and had obtained fellowships from England and Glasgow.

When he returned to Islamabad, Seema was on her way to London.

Now, here I must explain.

The gentleman Seema met on that day was named Muhammad Abdullah.

However, in their home country, men who have Muhammad as a first name are usually called by their second name.

To simplify the matter, in English-speaking countries, they are called Muhammad.

Seema had referred to her future husband as both Muhammad and Abdullah, so I had asked for some clarity. (It seemed unlikely that she would have two husbands!)

The meeting of minds and hearts

When Seema and Muhammad met in her parents’ home, there was instant interest.

I asked if it was love at first sight, and Seema grinned — but we settled on interest.

“No wonder,” I thought and said.

“You’re from similar backgrounds, both educated, both attractive people – and you are truly beautiful.”

She wanted that recorded! We laughed.

They were married in March 1997, having known one another for just four months.

It is a marriage made in Heaven — or more accurately, Jannah.

She spoke of their union.

Knowing that they were born to be together, they are not at all happy apart.

I asked her if I should write about their marriage, and she said, “Why not?”

With Seema, what you see and hear is what there is.

Her warm heart is an open book.

They have been very happily married for 27 years.

Just three months after the wedding, Seema and Muhammad moved to Malaysia, where an opportunity awaited him.

It turned out to be the worst possible time to relocate to Kuala Lumpur.

The city was experiencing dense smog, and the economy was shrinking.

Seema had problems finding employment, and she was desperate to use her skills.

Her speciality was information systems and how to manage them.

She accepted a project at the University of Malaya, but it was short-term.

She finally found a position and then, at the same time, discovered she was having a baby.

When their son Umair was born, she absolutely didn’t like the idea of leaving her precious baby with some unknown babysitter.

But, with no childcare offered by the state or her employer, she had few options.

She worked from home for three months and then employed a babysitter and took both the baby and the babysitter to the office with her.

Umair was growing and needed space in which to crawl around — and with no family or other support around, she was forced to hire live-in home help.

However, after returning from work, she would care for her son at night.

Their daughter, Sabaina, was born in March 2000.

Earlier in 1998, they had applied for a visa to allow them to relocate to Australia.

I asked why.

Laughing, she said that “everyone was doing it”, and reports about our country were good, mostly about the lifestyle.

They visited Australia (Sydney and Canberra) in 1999 to obtain their permanent residency.

Seema didn’t fancy either of these cities.

However, in 2002, they returned and visited Melbourne, which suited Seema much better; with its parks and open spaces, it reminded her of Islamabad.

By 2002, things had settled nicely in Kuala Lumpur; both children were at kindergarten, and Seema was enjoying her work and Malaysian lifestyle.

However, in 2002, her job ended when her work visa was not renewed after five years of employment.

Around 2003, their Australian permanent residency visa was also running out, so they packed up and relocated to Melbourne in early 2004.

More next week

Now, it was time for Seema to leave for her next appointment.

She said, “Let’s do this again,” and as I had many unasked questions — and because we were having a very good time — we made an appointment for the following week.

We shared a hug — and she was gone.

I’ll tell you more about their lives in Melbourne next week.

Please join me then because I’ll also write about Seema’s ongoing love affair with our city, her years on Greater Shepparton City Council, and perhaps a little about her plans.

I’m sure she has some!

Okay!

So, when I wrote about Apex Antics, I didn’t mention my own involvement with it.

I thought it neither interesting nor important.

However, as some of you have pointed out, I did have an insider’s perspective.

Here it is, for what it’s worth.

I was in awe of Bert Lightfoot.

Sid Curtis was an interesting man; quiet, introspective and even grumpy at times, he turned into a very different person under the spotlight.

To me, he remains the funniest performer I have ever seen.

And Ted Malloy had a voice that could have taken him far from Shepp.

I also loved the Apexians’ attempts at ballet — the harder they tried to get it right, the funnier they were.

Kristy Rudd sent me some photos from the Shepparton Heritage Centre’s collection, which included two finale pics (the entire cast).

In one, I look as if I’d rather be anywhere else — but the camera can lie. I loved the fact that we were raising funds for people who needed help — and in addition, the Antics were, by far, the most fun I had in my dancing life.

In the other pic, I obviously hadn’t finished growing and was looking at the floor — as no good performer ever does.

Is that all you wanted to know?

But, there was a date error.

After two days’ worth of consultation, I got a date wrong.

(You can’t say I didn’t try!)

The first wedding to be held at the Civic (Eastbank) was in 1984 — not 1983.

This means that Eastbank didn’t open until 1984. No excuses!

Don’t forget the heritage open days

On Friday and Saturday, there are some wonderful opportunities to have a good look at some of our wonderful buildings.

There are some ‘just walk-in’ opportunities; however, you’ll need to be at the appropriate times.

There is still time to pick up a program at the places I mentioned last week — including the council offices.

May it be easy, my friends.

Marnie

Email: towntalk@sheppnews.com.au

Letter: Town Talk. The News. P.O. Box 204. Shepparton 3631.

Phone: Text or call 0409 317 187