The Narratives – Mohamed Miah

I’ve always been deeply proud of my cultural heritage. Being both British and Bangladeshi means that I carry both worlds within me, though it wasn’t always easy to balance that. I have countless fond memories from both the UK and Bangladesh, and they each make me who I am today.

Growing up in the UK, there was always this unspoken tension. On the one hand, you’re part of British society, but on the other, the society reminds you in subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) ways that you don’t completely fit in. As kids, we were often labeled based on the color of our skin, whether outright or through quiet, unspoken looks. And yet, when I would go back to Bangladesh, I didn’t always feel fully at home there either. There, I was the foreigner, the one who grew up in the UK and didn’t completely belong.

It’s a strange kind of duality to carry, but through it all, my love for both cultures has only grown. In the UK, I’ve built so many memories. From school, to football, to the rich history and the diversity you experience growing up in a city like Southampton, there’s a deep sense of belonging. At the same time, I cherish the rich culture of Bangladesh—the food, the language, the sense of community.

One of my proudest moments of my Bangladeshi heritage comes from recent events. Seeing my fellow countrymen stand up against injustice, refusing to bow down in the face of oppression, was nothing short of inspiring. In a world where injustice seems to thrive, Bangladesh showed the courage to fight for what’s right. It reminded me of the strength and resilience of my people, a strength I’m proud to carry in my blood.

And then there’s the food. Anyone who’s had Bangladeshi food knows just how special it is. From the spicy curries to the sweet rasmalai, the flavors have a way of bringing people together. Some of my fondest memories are sitting with family, sharing a meal, laughing and talking late into the night. I think often of my grandparents and the village I used to visit as a child. It was simple, peaceful, and grounded. Life there moved slower, and that’s something I’ve come to appreciate more and more as the world around us only seems to speed up.

But if I’m being completely honest, my greatest heritage isn’t tied to just being British or Bangladeshi. It’s Islam. By the grace of God, I was born a Muslim, and that identity is what gives me the deepest sense of belonging. Growing up, when the world was telling me I didn’t quite fit in here or there, Islam was the constant. It doesn’t matter what your background is, where you were born, or what language you speak. When you stand in prayer, you’re standing with your brothers from all walks of life. It’s humbling this unity, this shared faith. Whether in the good times or the hard times, it’s something that brings us all together.

Yes, following the discipline of Islam isn’t always easy. We all struggle, and that’s part of the journey. But it’s also what keeps us striving to be better. For me, being Muslim ties everything together—my British side, my Bangladeshi side. It transcends the borders and the labels that society tries to place on us.

So, what am I most proud of? It’s the fact that I don’t have to choose. I can be both British and Bangladeshi. I can love the history and opportunities the UK has given me, while also embracing the culture, traditions, and resilience of Bangladesh. But above all, I’m proud of my faith, which gives me a sense of belonging that no passport or cultural identity could ever provide.

In a world that often tries to divide us by where we come from or what we look like, I find peace in knowing that my true identity comes from something deeper. I hope that, by embracing all these parts of who I am, I can inspire others to do the same. Because at the end of the day, it’s our shared humanity and our shared faith that truly matter.