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  • Writer's pictureVictoria Redclift

The Story of Altab Ali by Fatima Rajina

Updated: Jul 28, 2020


Have you heard the word, my mother told me

One of our own was just killed near Brick Lane

She pulled me closer so she could hold me

But I was too young to understand her pain

My life had just begun, I was a mere eight years of age

When Altab Ali was murdered on this very spot

I would have, should have really, cried tears of rage

When Altab was killed for something he was not


Altab Ali was a working class Bengali man

An eager new comer to distant British shores

Leaving his family and home in a faraway land

With a simple desire to provide them with more.

After a long day sweating in a sweatshop factory.

He strolled casually down

Brick Lane to catch a bus

With no desire for a fight, or trouble with anybody

The young Mr Ali was a peaceful man, like the rest of us.


Yet they harassed him and eventually gave chase

Fearing for his safety, he fled down to St Mary’s Park

Three racist delinquents took his life in this very place

He fell to the ground engulfed by a deep cold dark

As his lifeless limb lay there on the cold concrete

Blood flowing faster than the ambulances call

The three youths ran off laughing down the street

Unaware of how their actions would liberate us all.


The youths were caught and imprisoned, but not for long

Serving short sentences due to the justice system

But ten days later, a crowd of seven thousand strong

Marched with Altab’s coffin and got Downing Street to listen

A turning point in British Bengali history in the east end

Although countless Asian men had been killed before,

The time had come stand up and make amends

The camels back was now broken, with this final straw


For the next 20 years, we pulled together as a community

We had to fight many a fight, on many a night for many a right

We raised our children to understand and respect our history

For fear that they would forget Altab and we would lose sight

Today in 2016 we are standing here to remember his death

Standing here, all nationalities united as one.

On the very spot where Altab Ali drew his last breath

Because unless we learn from this tragedy the fascists that killed Altab will have won.

By Salam Jones


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