It was mid-October 2001. Just a few days had passed since the beginning of the US-led attack (Operation Enduring Freedom) on the Taliban in Afghanistan. After a long day of hard labour on construction site, my cousin, Jawad, called me over.
Holding his little handheld radio, he tuned into the BBC Persian Radio (part of the BBC World Service). As throughout our lives in and outside Afghanistan, the BBC had been our most credible source of information. We sat watching the sun set over the south eastern city of Rafsanjan, Iran. We cheered as the news reader gave us tales of the Taliban fighters fleeing as city after city were being liberated. With a big smile on his face, Jawad looked at me saying ‘How do they do it? I mean, how did this Iranian man get to work for the BBC?’
Within a few months, I was reunited with my family in Pakistan and Jawad with his in Afghanistan. And three years later, I was in Britain.
I arrived in Britain as a refugee with no concept of life in a western society. I couldn’t speak much English, had no skills and suffered from PTSD. Within days of arrival, I was taken to the city of Wolverhampton college and put in a class with a group of unruly teenagers, who did not hesitate to bully a strange looking person who could not communicate well and had no self-confidence.
My college experience was not great. But it was good enough to get my English going, which helped me to get a job as a factory packer. I was pleased to have a job, but not satisfied. I had always loved education. The fact that I had been unable to complete my schooling hurt me as much as fleeing the Taliban. Moreover, I wanted to become an active and responsible member of the new community which had welcomed me. It was for this reason that I joined the Labour party the day I became a British citizen in 2010. In that year, without any prior proper academic education, I enrolled at the Open University to study politics, philosophy and economics.
People often talk of second chances, but as I had never had a first chance, the OU gave me a dream chance. The Labour party must celebrate the OU as one of its greatest achievements. The OU symbolises all that is great about our party and Britain.
The OU has not only provided me with a world class education, it has taught me self-discipline, the value of hard work and dedication. Above all, it has instilled in me the self-confidence and belief that no matter what your background, in Britain, you can make your dreams into reality. If it was not for the OU, I would not be able to write these words. Since its creation, it has done the same for hundreds of thousands of others.
Alongside the NHS, the OU is testament to the enduring and timeless values of our party. It is another living example of how Labour in power, with bold and pioneering ideas can change the lives of millions across generations.
As I prepare for my graduation, I reflect back to that day with Jawad. Then, my only dream in life was to see the end of the Taliban tyranny so I could return home to my village in central Afghanistan. To imagine something, you must first conceptualise it. Then, I could not even conceptualise that one day I would be in a BBC studio commenting on international politics, democracy and terrorism with the same newsreader we had listened to, and that Jawad would be listening to us in the village and feel proud.
I owe it all to the OU and the Labour party. Above all, I owe it to Britain. I will do all I can to pay back.
So thank you!
*I dedicate this post to Jawad, who was found shot dead in our home village on 11 May 2016.
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Rohullah Yakobi is a Progress member