What almost happened

Random thoughts
Today I would like to tell you about an important event which, if it had not taken place, would have changed our history. After completing a BSc from D J College, Karachi, I worked for three years as government inspector of weights and measures.
It was a very easy, comfortable and respected job but I wanted to go to Germany for an engineering degree. I used to go to the German Embassy in Clifton and read up information on universities, education, etc. At that time there were no guards and/or fixed appointments. One just walked in. Quite often a tall, blonde, handsome young German officer used to sit and chat. When I told him what my interest was, he advised me to go to Berlin, one of the best technical universities in the world. He also told me it would be easy to work and study at the same time. He himself had a doctorate degree from there, also studying and working at the same time.
I later found out that his name was Dr Schreiterer, commercial councellor of the embassy. He told me I would need about DM 250 (Rs250 at the time) per month. There were two semesters of three and four months respectively and during the five remaining months I could earn the required funds.
I wrote to Prof Dr H Stark, head of Foreign Student Affairs, and gained admission. I planned to leave by mid-1960. I had no money. My older brother, Hafeez, gave me Rs2,000 and had some clothes made for me. At that time my younger sister, Razia, and I were living with my mother. When my mother realised I would be leaving and that there would be no male member of the family in the house, she became depressed, so I deferred my departure for a year. One or two days later there came a knock on the door at midnight and there was another older brother, Qayyum, suitcase in hand. He had been working in Bahrain at the time, but having heard that I was leaving, he didn’t want my mother and sister to be alone. Despite his arrival, I decided to travel the following year.
My sister got married in 1961 and my brother lived with my mother, so I was free to go. The ticket cost me Rs1,450. I exchanged Rs300 for 30 British pounds and flew by Lufthansa Airlines to Frankfurt and from there to Düsseldorf, the most beautiful city of Germany at the time. The first night I stayed in a B&B (DM 8 per day) and then found a room with a landlord who spoke English, Russian, French and Polish in addition to German. I then immediately joined an engineering company to start the six months of technical training (this, together with a working knowledge of German, was compulsory).
Within a week I started feeling terribly homesick – letters took 20 days to reach and there were no English newspapers or TV programmes. Hardly anyone spoke English and I felt very isolated and lonely. Work at 7:30am, back at 4:30pm and then off to learn German. One Sunday I went to the railway station and found a Sunday Observer – a voluminous edition that kept me busy the whole week. In one of these I found an advertisement from a Nigerian Grammar School in Benin where they needed a science teacher.
I applied and immediately received a handsome package – good salary, fully furnished bungalow, car loan on easy instalments and two months of paid leave every second year. I accepted the offer and was sent a ticket from Germany to Lagos via London. I was raring to go. In London I planned to visit my old school friend, Iqbal Khan.
Before fixing a departure date I thought it polite to inform Prof Stark, explaining the reasons for my decision. After two days I received an express, hand-written reply saying that he would have a two-hour stop-over in Cologne on his way to Paris and that he would like to see me. I telegraphed a reply confirming our meeting. The journey from Düsseldorf to Cologne was only a short train ride. At the airport I asked the clerk at the Lufthansa counter to request Dr Stark to come to the counter. Within no time a blond, slim, well-dressed gentleman of medium height and with a kind face appeared and introduced himself as Prof Stark. He offered me coffee and we sat at a nearby table while he listened to my story and acknowledged that he understood my problem. All foreign students feel that way, he said, if they don’t have any colleagues around.
Then he took my hand in his and said that I had already shown great initiative in coming this far, that I had already completed my practical training and could speak German quite well. It is your decision, of course, he said, but it would be like coming to the river and then returning thirsty. If you go to Nigeria as a teacher, you will live as a teacher and die as a teacher. Once you leave Germany, you will repent having given up the golden opportunity you had. His arguments were so convincing that I decided there and then not to go to Nigeria and proceeded to Berlin instead. I informed my landlord who was delighted as, being well educated himself, he wanted me to study.
Upon being informed, the director of the Grammar School in Nigeria replied that he was sorry to lose me but wished me success in my future studies. When I reached Berlin after about a week I went to the hostel Prof Stark had arranged. There were lots of foreigners there, mainly Indians and Iranians. There was only one other Pakistani, Akhtar Ali, who studied electronics. We soon became good friends and are still so today. He now lives in California with his family after retiring from a brilliant career.
Studying in Germany resulted, via a tourist trip to Holland, in my engagement to a girl of Dutch descent (now my wife of 51 years) and my subsequent stay and work in Europe. After two years in Berlin I shifted to the famous Technological University of Delft from where I obtained an MS. Four years in Leuven, Belgium resulted in a DrEng degree. I then worked in Holland for four years where I gained invaluable experience in centrifuge technology for enriching uranium. This gave me the necessary knowledge and experience to help develop our country into a nuclear power.
My wife still jokes with me saying that, had I gone to Nigeria, I would have been married to a friendly, plump Nigerian lady and had nine or ten beautiful dark-skinned children with large eyes and curly hair.
Email: dr.a.quadeer.khan@gmail.com