Preet Mooneeram: Welsh Asian Heritage Project

 

Farah Allibhai  00:02

Farah Allibhai recording Mr. Preet Mooneeram on the seventh of March, 2024.

Hi Preet, tell me about your father's life in Mauritius.

 

Preet Mooneeram  00:18

Right, my father was the eldest of seven children, and he lived in a place called Curepipe in Mauritius. He was born on the seventh of May 1932 he was a very hard working young man, and tried his hand at everything, sport, education. He had an extreme thirst for knowledge, books, surrounded himself with books. And being the eldest of a family where their father had died when they were quite young, he became the breadwinner. He spent very little of his childhood in his mother's house. He was living with his uncle, who lived 13 miles away from the family home. So my dad had a 13 mile cycle trip to school every day. He won what was called an open scholarship to attend the Royal College in Curepipe, which was a fee paying school, but he won an open scholarship. He came from quite a poor background, as you can imagine, but he was the highest scoring pupil on the whole of the island, so he won this scholarship to go to the school. Whilst he was a pupil there he was very entrepreneurial, and started giving private lessons to boys and girls who quite didn't reach the expectation that they were supposed to but had a bit of money, and he helped fund the education of his siblings. He was quite strict with his siblings, and insisted that they, boys and girls, both insisted that both of them complete school to at least A level. And testimony to that is that the four brothers all embarked on different professions, accountant, Headmaster of a school, surgeon, and my dad doing what he did, the girls became school teachers and headmistresses of various schools, which was quite rare really in the 50s and early 60s.

 

After finishing school at the age of 18, my dad decided to work for a while because he had to raise money to come to Britain to undertake a degree. He'd applied to study medicine in St Andrews in Edinburgh, and he'd work, his plan was that it would take him about 10 years to raise sufficient funds to fund his course and fund his time in Britain. In the meantime, of course, he met my mother, and life takes on a different course. They got married, my mum came from quite a very, quite a wealthy background, and it was a match made in heaven, actually, because they were both besotted with each other from the moment they met. It was a love marriage, not arranged, you know, contrary to the normal Asian expectation of life. And they were happily married until his death in 2001. My father continued to work then in Mauritius, he taught in a church of England School called St Andrews, where he taught sciences and English and French right up to Cambridge certificate A level. And funny enough, some of the pupils in there were his siblings in that school and various other family members who all remember him with affection. He was very keen on school sports days, extracurricular activities like Boy Scouts.

 

My mum was involved with the guides, and he raised the expectations of the children he came across to expect, be the best they could. And years later, you meet people who've said that's what he did for us. He was passionate about teaching, absolutely passionate about it. Then he was due to come to Britain in 1957 unfortunately, the island was hit by a cyclone and as you can see from this photograph here, our house was demolished by Cyclone Carol. That's my dad standing amongst the ruins, and he spent the next five years earning enough money to rebuild the house, in which time my brother and myself were born, so that changed plans completely. His chances of doing medicine, as he saw it, had gone out of the window, because in those days, it took seven years, and that was just far too long he was, by the time he was coming to Britain, he was 30 years of age, and he decided seven years in higher education wouldn't be feasible. So he supported his younger brother, who went to Trinity in Dublin to study medicine. And my dad followed a few years later and went to Cardiff University.

 

However, before going there, my mother and myself were sent over with my elder brother to Britain to acclimatise to the to the weather over here, my dad decided that we should come over in June of 1962 as it was still the British summer, and he would follow at the end of the term time in Mauritius and come over to start his degree in the September of that year. My mother, my brother, myself, and a girl called Geeta came over to Britain together. My mum in charge of all of us, and we arrived at London Airport, Heathrow, fresh off the Boat, as they say, and we took a coach to Victoria coach station, where we were met by my mother's sister, who had been in Britain since 1951 and she had arranged a flat for us in Bayswater, and she put us into a taxi, and my mum met with the landlady, and the landlady told my mother what the rent would be. My mum worked out that this would wipe out her whole year's allowance in about a month, and promptly jumped back into the taxi and we ended up back at Victoria Station. Fortunately for us, there were some former scouts of my dad who'd also arrived, and they helped us find some temporary accommodation in Victoria and London. Shortly after that, my mum found a more permanent house in Norwood junction, Norwood junction, and we had a one bedroomed flat. There was my mum, my brother, myself and Geeta, and we shared this flat for the whole of the summer of 1962 until my mum arranged the wedding of Geeta with her husband still of today, Dao Madhu. And they still, they still very happily live in London to this day, and my mum organised the wedding, literally a few months after arriving in Britain. Then our life in Britain began, 1962 my father arrived in in London, he moved to Cardiff to find us accommodation.

 

He found us a flat in Richmond crescent, and we all moved to Cardiff. My dad attended Cardiff University, and I went to a little nursery school in Richmond Road called nursery land. My brother went to Albany Infant School, Albany junior school, and my cousin, who was with us, went to Roth Park. And my dad attended university for the year in 1962 to ‘63 and as events happened, my mum became pregnant with my youngest brother, Vin, and that changed everything, because my dad decided that funding would be an issue because he was self funding, so he decided to take a break from university for the year, the academic year in 1963 to ‘64 and he got the job in Llanwern in the steelworks, programming computers, which were very much the new thing. And because he was a mathematician, it was second nature to him. He travelled from Cardiff to Llanwern every day to do this job, and in the evenings, he would run the Adult Education Department of Grangetown Adult Education Center teaching English to overseas people. And he did that for his entire time that he was doing his degree, from 1963 to 1966.

 

After the year of earning enough money in Llanwern, he came back to his studies in Cardiff University, and finally graduated in 1966. After graduation he couldn't get a job in education, and he was working as a labourer for Cardiff Corporation, cutting grass and it wasn't until the former leader of the Labour Council, Jack Sloman saw him cutting the grass of the mansion house and said, Rav what are you doing? And my father said, I'm earning money to feed my family and look after them. And Jack Sloman actually said, well, we've a teacher shortage in Cardiff, this is ridiculous. Next thing, my father gets a letter from the education department and is offered a job teaching French in Sintwell High School in Ely and Sintwell, was a secondary modern school, quite a tough school, quite a tough area. But like everything he did, he did it with relish and total enthusiasm. And from 1967 to end of ‘69 he taught the boys French and anything else they needed assistance with. And at the end of it, you know, some in fact, 30-40, years later, I met some of the pupils by pure accident from school who commented that he was one of the few teachers who taught them, who treated them with any respect and dignity. And typical Asian, he turned up every day to the school smartly dressed in a suit and showed the boys they could be better than their expectations. That what they were led to believe by their expectations, they were more than the limitations put on them. 

 

Day one of the school, my dad went along in his suit and briefcase. Always had the briefcase, and he came home from work that day and he had a huge black eye. And we just thought, what an earth has happened? You've been in a fight, so one of the boys  took a took a dislike to you? And he said, no, I was playing football with the boys in the yard, and we went up to head a ball, and someone's head caught me. And from that day on, I think the boys took to him. They absolutely took him. I remember going on a school trip with them. I was in junior school, and we'd had a, my dad had organized a school trip for these boys. They'd never been anywhere, because no one had trusted them to leave the city, and he took them to Bristol Zoo. He and another teacher called John Davies, and another good friend of his from school, Len Williams, who was the woodwork teacher, John Davies was the music teacher, and this coach was full of boys, and we turned, I turned up at school with my dad just before half past eight in the morning, and the school is full of, you know, 14-15, year old boys running around. I was in junior school, infant school, and my dad shouted out to this one boy said, Churchill, this is my son, take care of him. And that's the last I saw of my dad until the coach came back from Bristol Zoo. I spent the whole of the day with these boys at the back of the coach for the whole of the trip, and it was absolutely amazing, a good day out with some really special people. And I won't mention what happened in the gift shop, though.

 

Farah Allibhai  13:52

Can you tell us a little bit about the reception of your father at the school in Ely when he initially arrived, because that was back in the days in what 1960?

 

Preet Mooneeram  14:03

1969, yeah. Initially, some of the parents weren't happy with, having their children taught by an Asian man. And there was a period where he was received or we were receiving obscene phone calls on the hometown phone because all your telephone numbers were published in a phone directory in those days. Do you know what that is? A phone directory? Yeah, and he... people used to phone us. The police actually put a trace on it, they went on for quite a while, and the police put a trace on the line, and they identified where the call was coming from. And typical of my dad, he didn't want to press charges, he just went to go and pay the parents a visit and ask them why they were doing it, and turned them around, really, just meeting them, having a chat with them. And it just stopped from then on.

 

 

Farah Allibhai  14:59

And so I'm sensing that he was met initially with some racism and resentment.

 

Preet Mooneeram  15:07

Well that, I think that featured right throughout his life, to be quite honest, in Britain, right throughout his life. But it was never used as a badge for him. He never used it as a reason not to be able to do anything. In fact, he raised himself above it, and everything he did, he didn't allow himself to become restrained by anything colour or being told you can't do this, funding. He just was bigger than his job. So racism wasn't really... it was there you know, it'd be stupid not to say it wasn't there, but he never let it become a limiting factor on his life.

 

Farah Allibhai  16:02

It's so moving on now to teaching in Ely. He was also at the same time in Grangetown, still?

 

Preet Mooneeram  16:12

Yes, he was teaching adult education in Grange... and I have letters of testimony from the warden of the centre, who absolutely sends a glowing reference of him saying that, you know, this man should be doing more than he is. You know, he shouldn't be limited by the type of posts he was being offered or not offered, as the case may be. After Ely, the job in Fitzalan came up, and that basically was... in those days, this was 1969, there had been a lot of children come in from former British colonies, from the Indian subcontinent for whom English was a second language, and for whom a lot of the parents didn't speak English in the home. So what South Glamorgan Education Department, Cardiff Education Department, decided to do was to house them in one building in Fitzalan High School, which they very nicely called the immigrant block. And it was a three or four storey building where all the kids from non English speaking backgrounds were put. And before my dad arrived, they were being treated as educationally subnormal. They were treated, they were banded as ESA and a lot of their day would be spent litter picking around the yard, because no one knew what to do with them, and they were not part of mainstream school, and they didn't have school uniforms, you know, they weren't told to wear school uniforms, you know, they didn't know what the arrangements were in the school. No one from school actually directed them on that front.

 

On my dad's first day there, realizing that there may be cultural issues with teaching, some of the girls in school, took my mum along with him, and they had a conversation. Luckily, my mum speaks Urdu, my dad speaks Hindi, and they could communicate in some of the South Asian languages, South Indian languages, and they were able to get across to the kids that to be part of this school, we need to look like the pupils in this school, so we need to dress in the same way. And from then on, he called the parents in as well, and actually got them on board with having school uniforms for their kids so they felt part of the school. And it wasn't uncommon for him, because it was very, they had very few teachers in the so called immigrant block until he came along. I remember sitting on occasional days when my dad had to look after my younger brother and myself. He'd take us into school with him, so our occasional days off were not spent at the park. We'd go back to school and so we'd be in this classroom, and on the way in, my dad would always stop off at one of the shops in Grangetown and buy several bottles of, large bottles of pop and biscuits and crisps.

 

Then we'd go into a classroom, and there would be something like 120 kids in one classroom of all ages, ranging from 11 to almost 17, and he would have them eating out of them, all speaking different languages. He would have them eating out of his hand by the end of the short session. And it was just amazing, you know, he'd be teaching them the same thing, because they all had to learn English. They all had to get on board with this. And the pop and the crisps and the biscuits were for them, you know, in their break time. And he also thought it was important to get to the parents, because he realised that he was trying to teach the Queen's English in school, they were going home and speaking in Mother town, and the parents weren't able to communicate in English to the children. So I think that's where the idea of the pavilion or the parade came along, teaching English as second... he'd always been involved in teaching English as second language to overseas people, and he decided to contact some of the parents. He would go to their homes. He would take my mother along and encourage them to come to classes. And I as a young boy of 11-12, years old, I remember doing leaflet drops around Grangetown and Bute town to various houses in Riverside of these English classes that were being run by this man, Ravi Mooneeram in Severn Road Adult Community Center. Severn Toad was a school  in Grangetown, and he would run these classes every evening, and this was on top of the day job, by the way. He would run these classes and then increase the staff. He would get various people involved, various people who studied English, teaching of English as a second language, and things grew from there, really. The opportunity to take up the tenure of the parade came up when Cardiff High School for Girls abandoned the school in 1971 because they amalgamated with the boys School in Ty Celyn.

 

So there was a lovely, old Victorian, Victorian building empty on the parade, literally, 1971 summer, 1971 and I remember receiving a phone call from my dad on the landline, and he said, I was 13 at the time, and he said, you've got a toolbox, haven't you? And I said, yes. He said, bring it over. I've just taken over a building on the parade. It's the old Cardiff High School for Girls. So I went around to number 28 which was the old main building of the school. I walked in, and literally, the school had shut in at the end of term in July 71 and the bins were still full of the rubbish because no one was coming back. So our first job was to empty the bins and clean the floors, etc, etc. He had a caretaker there who wasn't very receptive to working for my dad, and who lived in the top floor of number 28, he had an apartment in number 28 parade, and he was not very cooperative with opening doors for functions that went on there, for cleaning the building, for organizing cleaners, cleaning staff to come in, because he didn't like the idea of working for my dad. So my dad, quite often would be seen with a brush after spending a full day teaching and a full day doing adult work, sweeping the floor in the parade to clean the building after it'd been used and I, you know, I've helped him do it on occasion. But on a positive note, the parade became an amazing building, where, at the end of his 22-23 years of running the place and developing it, it became a hub for some 4000 people a week using it. And it was people from all backgrounds, all communities in life you know which I can go into detail if you wish, use that building.

 

Farah Allibhai  24:13

Please do give some detail.

 

Preet Mooneeram  24:14

Well, let me pick up a photograph and have a look at this. These are pictures of the summer schools that used to go on in the parade every June, July and August, when school term finished, my dad would run summer schools in the parade for those kids who are struggling in various subjects in school, kids from all backgrounds, all communities, would attend this school. And he did this for as long as I can remember. Not only that, he would also organize, I think this picture here is actually of an exchange group. And he would have the exchange groups from Nantes and Stuttgart, our Twin Cities, coming over and staying for a month in Britain, being hosted out by various families. And we, on occasion, hosted some of these kids would come over, and they were pre-University. You know, they were a 

 

17-18, year olds who were basically on a holiday here, but would have to spend morning of the weekday learning English, as I said, because prior to going to their universities in Stuttgart or Germany or France, you know, and so over the years, he became like a foster parent to these groups of 70-80 kids for the whole summer. I tell you a story of one night where these group of German guys and girls got stuck in Barry, and this was pre mobile phones, so believe me, it was prehistoric. And we get a phone call on the landline, where in -  Barry police station, I thought, oh, no, what's going on? They didn't have any money, and they couldn't get home. So I remember ferrying these kids home. I did about five trips in the car to ferry them home to their various homes in around Cardiff that night, and the one thing I remember is I kept on asking them the time because I was frustrated, and a few days later, they turned up at the house with the present of a watch for me, but there we are, that's another story. But, yeah, these photographs here, of which there are numerous, spanning various eras. You know, we have pictures of young Vietnamese children from the first waves of immigration into Britain, of the so called Vietnamese boat people, and the reception that they received in the parade. My dad worked with the Welsh Refugee Council to make sure that people were being treated properly, the Community Relations Council, the Criminal Justice Board. These were just a few of the things that he did that were extracurricular. So he organized, he not only hosted the kids over here but he took groups of children from this area, 17-18, year olds over to Stuttgart and Nantes in exchange. And my mum would always accompany him with that. So they became like these children's surrogate parents on these trips. And my mum, quite often would come home from these trips and say, you know, on two nights, I had groups of girls in my bedroom talking about they'd fallen in love with someone or some French guy on the trip, how were they ever going to come back to Cardiff? And my mum would be sitting there trying to console them, you know. And the letters of thanks you would get afterwards were just incredible.

 

There were other photographs. There's one in here of a chap called Jurgen Gutmann with a German from, I think, from Stuttgart in the 1972 there was a touring company called Moral Re-Armament, which is a big international organisation, and it staged a play, a musical called the Song of Asia. And there were people from all over the world in this cast, and they went touring around the world with this, this, this musical called Song of Asia, and they ended up playing in the Schumann theatre, and we hosted Jurgen Gutmann on his time here. We had him staying with us for about three weeks whilst the touring company was here, and he became a very good friend, and there's just a picture of him later on with his young family and his life back in Germany, just saying how much it meant to him, to well, to have been here and to get their message of Moral Re-Armament around the around the world. Dad was also involved with the interfaith associations, where the church, the leaders of various religious groups would meet in the parade, rabbis, imams, priests, vicars, reverends, you name it, they would meet and, you know, talk about issues of the day and go back to their various religious organisations and disseminate what they'd heard in the parade, and for meeting other people. It was a forum where people could come together and be open minded, which was what, which is, if you look at the world now, we could do with a bit of that now, a little bit of understanding, a little bit of respect for other people's viewpoint, a little bit of compassion. I think that summed up the parade, really, and summed up, certainly summed up my dad.

 

Farah Allibhai  30:11

Well, I was going to say that your father, Ravi Mooneeram and 28th the parade, are kind of inextricable, but I would like to pull them and tease them apart slightly. So I think one of the things that I'm hearing really, is that your father was a powerhouse and a pioneer for transformation in the education system for the global majority who'd come overseas. And he really, you know, going into that school, and it just being a block of students who are totally unaware. I mean, that's really shocking to me, but for him to turn that around. So, can you give us an idea of, like, how many pupils?

 

Preet Mooneeram  31:01

Oh, crumbs, where'd you begin? It would be in the 1000s. It would be in the absolute 1000s. You know you could literally. I mean, it's dad retired in 1993, I meet people now, taxi drivers, for example, or builders, or guys working in hospitals, an accountant, the other day, you know people who from all walks of life, and have said to me, oh, Mooneeram, we know that name. And I'm thinking, they're thinking of my younger brother who had a law firm in Cardiff. And they say, no, he was a teacher. How is he? And then I break the news and that he passed away a long time ago. Oh, and they say, Well, do you know? And they all have a story to tell. They all have a story to tell. It's not as if they were some insignificant those kids were never insignificant to him. Everyone was important as the next person. 

 

Farah Allibhai  32:00

And I also get a sense that he has a huge personality, and he was constantly engaging with people.

 

Preet Mooneeram  32:07

I think, you know, looking back on it, I used to cringe, because you do cringe at what your parents do. You do cringe at what, you know, you don't want to be involved in their life. You know, your dad's telling you, oh, I'm doing a function of the parade tonight, and I'm thinking, oh no, I'd want to be there. I want to be out with my friends and but yeah, his personality was enormous. And I used to cringe because he would project himself. And I know why he was doing it. There was no one else doing it for him. There was no one else saying, oh, Ravi Mooneeram is doing this down in the parade. He had confidence, and he always had confidence, though, from a young man, everyone, you know, you speak to his, I had the opportunity and good fortune to meet his best friend, you know, he came over on holiday once and Manna, and he was telling me about my dad and then I meet other people from Mauritius who tell me about my dad as a young man and how he was a leader. There's no doubt about it. He was a leader, you know, but a kind one. It wasn't dictate, he wasn't a dictator, you know. He actually brought people along with him. And I think if I was to sum him up in a professional capacity, I would say he was bigger than any job he took on,  bigger than any job. He never allowed himself to be defined by that task in that job. He would always look beyond it. Examples, I pick up this letter here, this is from a company called Sen Harvic.

 

Now, Sen Harvic was allied to quite a famous Cardiff company called John Windows. John Williams Windows in Riverside, right on the banks of the Taff and they used to make steel windows. And Sen Harvic, a steel company in India, big manufacturing company in India decided to send the owner's son to Britain to experience some time with John Windows Williams. Because of their business relationship, they sent over HT Solanki, Harry Solanki, and he came over in summer of 1970 and my father had a phone call one summer's evening from John Williams himself, John of John Windows, and he said, Oh, can you help out? I have this Indian man here. I don't know what to do with him, and it wasn't a racist thing. He literally didn't know how to communicate with Harry. Harry didn't speak English, so my dad went along. Next thing we know, Harry's with my dad, and he lived with us for three months while he was on his sabbatical with John windows. At the end of it, he sent a letter of thanks to my dad. He wrote regularly, but that's his family in India. And when he heard of the miners strike in Britain and how we were having blackouts in the early 70s, he air-freighted food over to us from India. Air-freighted fresh mangoes and yeah, and my dad had to go and collect it from the depot at Heathrow, right? So he had to drive to Heathrow to get this crate of food. And that wasn't the only example.

 

The managing directors of Panasonic, with whom my dad was a Matsushita Electric in Pentwyn, they heard about that when miners strikes were on, and how things were supposedly difficult in Britain for getting things. They thought we were all on rations. They flew over fresh salmon to my to our house who was just unbelievable. You know, my dad wasn't into taking gifts and all that sort of stuff. An example of that is when the Panasonic connection, VHS recorders had just come in to be in, and we still had a black and wide television them at home. And when I heard my dad was doing work with the managing directors, at Matsushita, my little eyes lit up, Star Trek in colour. I thought, this is fantastic, Dad. Are they going to give you a TV? Are they going to give you a TV? Well, he came home one day and there was a TV and a video recorder. I thought, this is it. I'm in heaven. Vin and myself, we sat there, and we thought, we've actually got, what, a TV. Next thing I know, my dad is carrying it out of the house. The TV, the video, it ended up in the parade. He wouldn't take it personally as a gift, and that's where it ended up. They had the first pop up video cassette recorders.

 

Farah Allibhai  37:06

There's something about the character of your father that is very altruistic, very philanthropic, incredibly generous. A heart that strikes me as being as, you know, deep as an ocean, and as wide as the sea. And of course, he was doing all of these numerous jobs. Yeah, so one would think that he could afford his own television. Can you tell me?

 

Preet Mooneeram  37:34

Oh, the story of the television? I know it's going backwards. I'm sorry about this, but it is an important story. It's of when we arrived in Britain, my dad, we arrived to our flat in in Richmond Crescent, and it was, winter was coming up, and it was the Big Freeze winter, and we'd heard tales, we'd never seen snow, we'd never seen ice, you know, didn't know what it was going to be like. So my dad went around to a little electrical shop because there was no central heating in those flats in those days. We went around to a little electrical shop on Salisbury Road, and it was just on the corner, blue shop, little, tiny, little blue shop, and it was run by a gentleman called Carl Joseph, Carlton Joseph from Jamaica. And I walked into the shop, and there was this big, tall Jamaican man standing behind the counter, Carlton Joseph, and he looked down at me and smiled, and my dad said, and he said to my dad, how can I help you? And my dad said, I'd like an electric fire, please and my dad bought a two bar electric fire. So we went, he said, and Carl, as he later became uncle Carl, said to my dad, what about a television? You need a television. You've got children, haven't you? And he said, my dad turned around and said, you must be joking.

 

I'm a student, I can't afford a television. He said, don't you worry about that. Where do you live? And my dad said, no, no, no, no, no. Anyway, found out where we lived in Richmond, Crescent, and he turned up that evening with a television, second one he'd cobbled together and kept us in televisions, free of charge. You know they'd break down you just phone Uncle Carl, he'd come around and repair the television. And money was never exchanged hands. Occasionally, my mum and dad would cook him a meal. He'd come around, and we got to know his family really well over the years. But kindness of strangers, kindness of strangers, and that has stayed with me all my life, that really kind people. And then the Reynolds family down the road, John Reynolds and Dorothy Reynolds and their children, Peter and Christian number 46 Richmond Road, when my mum gave birth to Vin, she was working up until she gave birth to Vin. Then she thought, oh my goodness, what am I going to do? You know, we need to work to earn money. And after staying at home for a little bit with Vin, she was talking to Dorothy, what am I going to do? I, you know, I can't afford nursery cover and all of this. And Dorothy said, send the baby to me. So Vin, for a first six, seven months of his life, would go down to number 46 Richmond Road, with Dorothy and my mum would go to work. Kindness of strangers.

 

Farah Allibhai

What did your mum work as? 

 

Preet Mooneeram

Oh, when she came here, she was working -  she got jobs as clerks. You know, she's working in a - her first job was a company called Bell and Nicholson in Churchill Way and basically wages clerk, you know, they've lots of typing going on and ledger, bookkeeping, ledger keeping that sort of stuff, things that you know don't exist anymore because of advent of technology. But yeah, and then she worked with she's had jobs in the evening. She was also working part time in the evening because we needed money. She would work in the cigar factory on Penarth Road, making cigars. Now, I always imagined people making cigars under a waterfall in Brazil and rolling the leaves out on their thighs, but of course, you know that doesn't happen. No, my mom used to work in a cigar factory called mannequin, the mannequin Cigar Factory Freeman's, and we used to go and drop her off after school. Her shift would start at six o'clock at night, and this is after doing the day job, my dad would drop her off, and at nine o'clock we'd go and pick her up. We'd go for the ride, you know, from Roath to Penarth Road, exotic, pick mum up.

 

Farah Allibhai  41:50

And this was also whilst your father was teaching, right? 

 

Preet Mooneeram  41:54

Yeah, my father was teaching, yeah, yeah.

 

Farah Allibhai  41:58

So we have a story of two parents who are working, working day jobs and night jobs with children. 

 

Preet Mooneeram  42:04

With children, only their children, two others as well. We had Sheikh, my cousin and his sister, who was studying in a college across the road, Cardiff Institute, which is gone now, she was learning, he was trained to become a secretary, and then she went back to Mauritius, but she studied here for three years and lived with us for three years. And Sheikh was living with us. And my dad never took money from the family to have the, you know, he considered that an insult if they paid him, you know, the attitude, I think it's a very much an Asian thing, you know, if we're cooking for one working we can cook for two, doesn't matter.

 

Farah Allibhai  42:47

Okay, so just getting a sense of the early, your early life, settling in Cardiff, sounds like it was really hard work.

 

Preet Mooneeram

Not for us. 

 

Farah Allibhai

Not for children, but for your parents. Hard work for your parents, yeah, and I feel now maybe we can focus on what was happening in the parade. Okay? Because I understand and I have experience, being a Ugandan refugee, that we use the parade for nothing, and we were one of the communities that used the parade. So I'm interested to know a bit more about the parade. Who used the parade, what went on in the day, what communities.

 

 

Preet Mooneeram  44:09

And this is the photograph number 28 I have it here. My dad standing outside and various people on the steps of number 28 which is very distinctive. It's the Seamaster. It was the old Seamaster’s House that is up, up in the gallery upstairs. There's a 360 view degree viewing gallery in the top of number 28 the parade. And that was, I always thought that what an amazing, the caretaker had an amazing place to live in, Andy, absolutely amazing place that was, and he hardly used that room. Hardly used that room. South Glamorgan owned the building, they still do, or the council owned the building. He was part of the education department, and my dad with his persuasive skills, said, Oh, well, you know, we need a bigger place if we're going to teach adults as well, because adult education was becoming a big thing. And I think Cardiff realized that, the director of education was very much on board with this, actually very much realized that adult education was an important aspect of integrating people into life in Britain.

 

And if you can't communicate with, as an adult, with your doctor or your pharmacist or your work colleagues, you see we didn't have huge Asian populations in Cardiff, like Leicester, where there will support networks in place, like parts of Birmingham, where people could stick to mother tongue and get on quite well. Cardiff, there has to be a certain amount of integration, it was quite a small city, and in that respect, people had to get on and adapt to their new life. And yeah, the communities that use the parade were as diverse as there are communities on this planet. So the Italians, Greeks, old Somali communities, from Cardiff, Indian communities, Bangladeshi, Pakistani communities, all with their own little customs that they wanted to keep alive, you know, they were in a different place. They didn't have places where they could meet. And if you look at the Kenyan Asian immigration to Britain, or Ugandan Asian immigration to Britain, a lot of these people were kicked out with nothing that, you know, Idi Amin was not very kind to the Asian people that were made to leave Uganda, and they forfeited a lot and testament to them, that a lot of them grabbed their bootlaces and got on with it. They absolutely got on with it. 

 

Farah Allibhai  47:06

But could you tell me how the community used the space, and was that outside? Was it a school as well?

 

Robin Chaddah-Duke  47:11

Like cultural events as well like Diwali?

 

Preet Mooneeram  47:17

Well there was teaching that was first and foremost, the Centre for Teaching English as a foreign language to people who say who, for whom, English was not a first language. So you had adults being taught there in the daytime, adults being sent there from various organizations, adults realizing they needed to speak English to get on in the community, adults realizing they needed to speak English to get on with their neighbours, you know, and to be able to have an effective life here. And that used to go on in the daytime. At the weekends, you'd have Saturday school where kids from mainstream schools around Cardiff would come to the parade and learn English, or better their English, and then it would extend into other subjects. You know, dad was very partial to sticking his handing with the mathematics and sciences. He still loved his sciences throughout life, although he actually didn't get a chance to do anything with that. But the cultural side of it, used to come along in the evenings. In the evenings, various groups would put their names down and say, on Wednesday night, the Ismaili association would like to have the function at the parade. And quite often, you know, we'd find ourselves being invited to various functions. So you don't want to get involved in your parents lives, but sometimes you had to, because there were friends involved. So you’d go along to various functions, and you'd have the Sikh community coming along, and they'd have a function. I don't think there were weddings that took place there. I don't think that ever happened, but it was usually times a religious festival, someone would be celebrating something, at Easter, you probably have the Italians and the Greeks doing something, and from that comes other people seeing you doing these things and taking part. Some people would not want to. They think, oh, well, you keep up to yourself. But there was a lot of open mindedness as well. A lot of people would want to know what's going on. And the great way in with Asian people, or historically, has always been the food thing. People always think that that's what associates people. But, you know, you look at it now, it's very trendy, isn't it? You watch these chefy programs, they're traveling around the world, telling us how, you know, it's how food integrates people, but we've known that all our lives.

 

Farah Allibhai  49:45

So I remember as a child in the 1970s being part of that Ismaili community, and we used the parade for free, for Friday prayers and for big religious occasions. And I also understand that the puja community and the Hindu community, before they found spaces of their own, so I get an understanding that the 28th the parade was a place where all communities gravitated for help and for space and support for nothing, courtesy of your father. 

 

Preet Mooneeram  50:20

That's right, that's right. And quite often, if you know, he'd have a chat with some of the so called leaders of these groups, who are usually, you know, professional people or business people. They understood how things work, make a contribution to this for the council, or whatever you know, or do this. And I've often heard people there saying, oh, Mooneeram must be making a fortune out of this. And nothing made me more angry than to hear that, because if you knew my dad, money was the last thing. Of course, he realized the value of money to live, but money to have money for the sake of it, was never his thing, and he certainly wouldn't take money to for education - no.

 

Farah Allibhai  51:04

If you could just elaborate, clarify that for me. So what I'm hearing is that he had a salary as a teacher, but his extracurricular activities he did for nothing. 

 

Preet Mooneeram  51:17

Yeah when he when he ran the parade, he became the Community Education Officer. And basically he was, his task was to ensure the teaching of English as a second language to children in South Glamorgan schools. So he was the county chief Community Education Officer. So he would have to liaise with every school, junior high, grammar, you name it, in our area. So he knew all the headmasters, and they had a fantastic working relationship with him, fantastic relationship. There's a file here of congratulations letters that have come from such a - I didn't even know these existed you focused my mind on this. I didn't even know these existed until I went into the garage to pull out these files that have been sat in a filing cabinet for the past 30 years, and these letters of thanks from every single organization you can imagine. When dad had his award, he was actually awarded an MBE for services to community relations in 1981 and there's a letter from the Prime Minister, the then Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher of the day, telling him he she has nominated him. She's put him forward to receive an award. He had to keep it quiet because this letter came out in November that he should be given an award in the Queen's honours list, and she was making a recommendation to the Queen before 1982, the New Year's honours list of 1982 for my dad to get this award. We didn't even know anything about it until my dad came home with a newspaper on New Year's Eve and said, look at this. And there was a list, no pictures, just a name, awards and New Year's honest list published, and his name's there. That's the first we heard. Typical of him, absolutely typical. Other things that were typical of him were my mum and dad were invited to a party, a private party on board the Royal Yacht Britannia by the Queen. And they have, my dad gets this series of invitations from and yet you could, you could tell it was something important.

 

The envelopes, even the postman was hanging around to see what it was he'd be on the doorstep, you can open it, Master of the household, on the big, buff, coloured envelope. For a few weeks, these letters used to come and what they were, they were instructions of how you what you should do, not tell anyone you’re going to this party. And they were vetting him for the next few weeks for security reasons. You know, they that he was vetted. Our car was vetted, and all the rest of it. But they went to this private party on board the the Royal Yacht Britannia, and it was full of dignitaries and my dad. Now, my dad that night, was gardening until six o'clock. The reception was at 7:30pm my dad was out in the gardening hadn't bought, gone out to buy a suit, a new suit, hadn't gone out to hire one. And my mum had been dressed for three weeks. She'd been prepared for this, hair, all her friends were involved. Someone bought an orchid for her hair. The hairdresser came and did her hair, insisted on doing her hair. But people in city road, there was a different feel about city road in those days. You know, the shops were different, and we knew everyone, and you'd go into the delicatessen, the Greek people, right? You must drive past when you're going. So literally, they had to drive down city road before they went to join the Royal Yacht. And anyway, they got on board this yacht, and they were just being, you know, just in the corner, keeping themselves to themselves. Next thing that happens, the Queen's private secretary approached my dad and said, Oh, Her Majesty, would like to speak to you sometime this evening. Anyway, sometime later, he comes across. Said, right, she's ready. So my dad goes out and speaks to the Queen with mum. And they were chatting. And typical of my dad, he does his research. He does his research. He spoke to her about her Commonwealth speech of 1977 the speech that she delivered in Canada, and delivered it in French, and he commented on particular points of the speech to the Queen, apparently, my mum said, her face lit up, and she said to my dad, oh do you speak French. Oh, I'm from Mauritius. And they spoke in French for about 10 or 15 minutes. The Queen and my dad spoke in French after that. You couldn't get these other people off them, or which country you representing? You know, who are you and the whole rest of it. And my dad would say oh I’m Ravi Mooneeram. 

 

Farah Allibhai  56:21

So very humble in all of his undertakings. And so there is a sense that, because he was a pioneer in education and community in Cardiff, there was nothing, no one was comparable. Nobody was doing what he was doing. And yet he was very humble about his undertakings. Can you tell me, did he ever share his inspiration or what drove him, the ideas behind he could see we were having challenges, racial challenges. 

 

Preet Mooneeram  56:55

Yeah, he could see there was... injustice was the core of whatever he did, injustice and unfairness, he just wanted the people to have the best opportunity they could. I mean, he came, he was born out of that, you see, he had come through a system of colonialism where you know you weren't meant to be in certain things if you weren't, you know from the motherland. You know, you as a colonized person, you knew your place. There was, in the civil service in Mauritius at the time, there was only a certain level the indigenous Indians could ever rise to. And you know, one interesting fact probably for another day, you know, because it's too much to talk about, is the seeds... it wouldn't be too grandiose of me to say that the seeds of independence in Mauritius were sown in my grandfather's house. The Prime Minister Seewoosagur Ramgoolam used to come to my grand - my mum remembers it as a girl having Seewoosagur Ramgoolam at their house as a young lawyer, because he came to my grandfather's house, who was an experienced lawyer, as his mentor and the seeds for independence, which was a peaceful, bloodless independence, seeking a break away from colonial rule. Happened in 1967 and he became the first prime minister of Mauritius.

 

Farah Allibhai  58:27

And this then gives me an insight into your father's thinking, because it seems he was very progressive and ahead of his time, and very much embodied inclusion. Every time I went into the parade, there was everybody was welcome. There was no other male female, whatever your religion, even if you were right wing, yeah, you know, even if you were left wing, it made no difference. Would you say that Mauritius offered a model, a different way of thinking?

 

Preet Mooneeram  58:53

I think Mauritius forms you as a person in terms of, you know, perhaps you're a little bit naive, you know, I still think you know that people from the colonies are because you, you have this view of Britain, and you have this view of life. You think everyone thinks like you. You think everyone is going to be as welcoming as you. And then the stark reality of not being the case, you know, hits home. But with that, I think the bottom in all of this is that he was an absolute machine, you know, and absolutely determined to do the best he could for others to open doors like the MBE. He took that, but did he ever use it for himself, no way It was to open doors, because you put that after you, especially in the early 80s, you have that after your name, you get piece of correspondence back. People pay attention to what you're saying. Now, he never used it to feather Ravi Mooneeram’s nest or grown Ravi Mooneeram’s empire. He did it, there we are... let's push so and so into that role.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:00:05

Would you say that he did it for the parade and all the people that came?

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:00:12

I think he did it for everyone that came across that door. They didn't have to be members of the parade, but everyone you know, the parade really extended to 36 Richmond Road. That was like a satellite of the parade, because the bell never stopped ringing. People would finish in the parade at 10 after doing their function at about half past 9/10, o'clock at night, they'd lock up, then their meetings would go on. And my dad would be home, because he would eat his evening meal watching News at 10 every night. That's when he got time to sit down have his evening meal. He would come home, you hear the key going, his footsteps come down the hall. He'd pour himself a very small whiskey, have that whilst his food was warming, and sit down in the corner of the back room in Richmond Road and watch the news at 10 every night. And then, usually, very soon after that, the bell would ring, or the phone would go, say, oh Ravi we need to see you, oh, Ravi Bhai, that was usually the one, Ravi Bhai or bhaiya. We need to see you now, now, now, desperately, need to see you. We've got a problem with so and so in our community. Well, we've got a problem with this, problem with that. He'd never say no. And then there'd be the signing of the warrants for the police. Police would come... they weren't doing it because he happened to be a bloody good magistrate, or anything like that. It's because we were probably the first house on the way out from the police station. So three o'clock in the morning, he'd be signing warrants for the police, and he would take it very seriously. They would have to explain why they wanted a warrant. It wasn't just a rubber stamp. Quite often I'd be up because I would hear the bell.

 

He was a magistrate, so they would have to get a magistrate's signature to undertake a warrant, to get a warrant to either go and arrest someone or to carry out a search, if they were suspicious that something was going on, but they would have to, so that's why we always had a Bible or other religious book in our front room. They would have to swear that they were going to, you know, things were being done properly. It wasn't just a case of going to Ravi Mooneeram’s house and getting these things signed off, it never happened, and that's why he had such a good relationship with the police. You know, he was very well respected within the police community.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:02:33

So I've heard you mention quite a few roles. So just in sequence, can we hear your father's title for the parade was:

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:02:43

Community Education Officer. 

 

Farah Allibhai

And then south Glamorgan. 

 

Preet Mooneeram

That was it, South Glamorgan and the parade. South Glamorgan were the parade. You know that it was, it was run by South Glamorgan. It was part of South Glamorgan education committee.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:03:01

And his other roles then, because you mentioned the magistrate.

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:03:05

Criminal Justice Board, right? He worked under, here's a picture here of him with Home Secretary Douglas Hurd. Now he was a Tory home secretary and but, you know, didn't matter. He worked with... there we are, that's Douglas Hurd, standing there, that's my dad with him. His last home secretary he worked with was Jack Straw. And there's a letter in this stuff that I found the other day thanking dad for his work on the Community Relations Council and Criminal Justice Board. So he was on the criminal justice board, the Community Relations Council, the Welsh Refugee Council, Council for Racial Equality, also amongst a few, you know, and we have these letters here of congratulations when he was given his gong by the Queen, saying, you know, just congratulating him. They come from, they come from all sorts of organisations. You know, across the board, you know, it's just...

 

Farah Allibhai  1:04:16

Always with, always associated with the global majority and justice and community that was his main...

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:04:26

Yeah, you know what I said earlier on about he not being defined by the jobs. All this was extracurricular to his day job. He did all these things above and beyond his normal job.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:04:41

So really, we're talking about him wanting to improve the quality of life for people.

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:04:46

For people generally.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:04:50

And I think in particular it strikes me people of the global majority who are marginalized and in precarious circumstances when they come to this country.

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:05:00

A measure of the person like, you know, I remember many Christmas days we’re sitting down, you know, we have that just us, the family, you know. And Sheik and Davina and their boys would come over. Perhaps my Manchester lot would come down and just a family thing in the house. And quite often, my dad would nip off somewhere, you know, in the morning. And next thing you know, there's someone in town, someone who was on their own in this country, you know, someone who had no one, or was feeling a bit down and dumb, so I remember, remember it well, you know, every Christmas they'd be saying, you know, it used to get on my brother's nerves. I loved it. I absolutely loved it, but I know he used to wind my brothers up a bit. Why can't we just do things with us for a change? You know? Why can't it just be us? But we know we used to get on with it. Never used to complain to the person who was there. They were always made to feel welcome. 

 

Farah Allibhai  1:05:53

Do you feel your family suffered as a result of your father's philanthropic activities?

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:05:58

Well not suffered. I didn't suffer either. To my brothers, we didn't suffer at all. We had immense freedom. We didn't have the typical Asian upbringing. There were no expectations on us to become lawyers, doctors, accountants. It was none of that nonsense going on in the house. You choose what subjects you want to do. You know, it's as simple as that. And you know, if you want guidance on it, we weren't forced to, I can never remember being forced to study, or you must stay home and study, or you can't go to that disco, or you can't see that girl. It never happened. It never happened. Or you're not going out with them because they're not from our community. It's never happened. But certainly, my mum had a tough time with it. From the point of view, we very rarely, she very rarely, had holidays. You know, he was working flat out. And the time he had holidays was when my brothers and myself got a little bit older and we'd started earning some money. And we actually went down to the travel agents. Travel Agents, what are they? The guys that happened before online? Yes, went down to the travel agents and booked a holiday for them and said, right, you're going and presenting him with the tickets. Oh, he was most put out with that. Why did you do that? Why? You know, I only need a few days away, but once he's away, he loved it. 

 

Farah Allibhai  1:07:22

Can you tell us when that was?

 

 

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:07:24

Yeah, it was in the 80s. Definitely in the 80s. Our last family holiday was 1976, our last family holiday with Vin, myself and my mum and dad, not even my older brother, because of 76 he'd gone to university by then, but my mum and dad, that was our last family holiday, and my dad actually took us to Paris. We went on train, you know, to we went, we drove to Dover, and we went on the train to Paris. Had a few days in Paris, and we came back to London. It was heatwave here. It was stiflingly hot. Everywhere. It was unbelievable, you know, so so hot.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:08:04

So for somebody who is clearly such a huge personality and an absolute powerhouse committed to selfless service, I find it I'm curious why there is no trace of Ravi Mooneeram, if I was to Google him, or, you know, looking at any sort of book around South Wales or Cardiff or educational pioneers. Can you comment on that?

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:08:30

I would love to be able to comment on it and put some logic to it. But I think it's for those who supposedly keep records of this city to look at themselves. I have no idea why such an important venue as the parade has been allowed to degenerate into what it has become that no one seems to be concerned about that, well, a beautiful building, full stop. And secondly, what it stood for, particularly at a time when the world is fragmenting, what that building stood for, what that building stood for, it opened people's minds to other ways of life, other people's viewpoints, and that there is no, you know the recognition thing. He wouldn't have given a tuppence for it. Who are the people who recognize you anyway? That would have been his approach. He didn't care less about rewards. He really didn't. But I must say, I can't believe there is no record. I mean, you get streets named after people who may have done some little thing in Cardiff or whatever, you know, and you think, yeah, oh, that's nice for them. But there are, there are others in the city who have been sort of invisible. I think of John Reynolds, former leader of the council.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:09:58

But coming back to your father. As an what I consider to be an innocent hero. I know that he was a complete role model for me, amongst many other things. You know, he's very paternal towards me, and actually enabled me to view the world through a different lens, to view a world of through inclusion and equality, which was very rare and in short supply in the 1970s, 80s, 90s, and even more so now. So for me, he really was a trailblazer and one of the most important figures in my life on so many level.

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:10:35

I’m so proud of you to say so. 

 

Farah Allibhai  1:10:39

You're more than welcome, and I think that perhaps your father's humility, because he didn't actually talk, brag about what was happening at the parade, I don't think people actually understood or have any sort of record. He never kept records of what went on.

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:11:01

Well, I think he did in that it's here. He kept the original documents of things. I mean, he very much kept the original documents of things. There's pure chance that I have the filing cabinet. And the filing cabinet literally moved from their old house in Richmond Road to here when my mum moved, and no one's opened it since today, today is when I opened this filing cabinet.

 

 

Farah Allibhai  1:11:22

And that would detail the comings and goings of the parade?

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:11:27

Not only the parade, but his university life, his job applications after finishing university, you know, some of the most lowly jobs you can imagine that he should have walked into, not even getting an interview for you know, it's just mindly, numbingly unbelievable. Lab technicians jobs, scientifically, he could have wiped the floor with them. And there are letters of reference, you know, from his professor in Cardiff University when he finished his degree, was finishing his degree, he wanted him to stay on and do a PhD. My dad had no money. Couldn't do it. Said no. And Professor Asbury, head of botany at Cardiff University, wrote an open letter and said, this man, basically in parenthesis, I would say this man needs to be funded. He really needs finding some way of giving... Cardiff University couldn't do it, you know, them being them, and there was no one out there to do it.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:12:30

And to ask really bluntly, then, do you feel that his identity, his race, was a big factor in this? 

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:12:40

He would never say that. He would never say that. And I'm not going to jump on that. I would imagine they had bearings on certain aspects of this without a doubt. I mean, you'd be naive to think it didn't, without a doubt, where he was treated, you know, not just within, not within, not only within the indigenous population of Cardiff, but outside, you know, for example, he was working in the parade one night, and it's at the time when he was dealing with a lot of Iraqi and Arab students coming in. And this gentleman turned up, and I think he was from Kuwait, and he was very smartly dressed. And my dad was telling me, and my dad was in the office, and he was wearing, yeah, what he's got on there, you see that jacket and a jumper underneath, so no tie, he's just as he is there, very casual, you know, in that outfit there. And the man said to him, where's your boss? And my dad being my dad said, oh, just wait a minute. If you come in here and sit down, I'll go and get him for you. So what he made him do, he made him do... you know, the building in 28th the parade is joint to Cardiff highschool for girls, there's a big basement that runs the length of the building. So my dad took him down into the basement, made him walk the length of the corridor. We just have to go up here, go up the stairs the other way, walk back the other way. Then sat him down in his - my dad's office. Sat him down he said, if you just wait here a minute, I'll go and get him for you. He let him stew in there for about 10 minutes, and he walked in and sat on the other side of the desk, and he said, right, what can I do for you?

 

Farah Allibhai

And that’s just typical of your father

 

Preet Mooneeram  

It’s his sense of humour

 

 

Farah Allibhai  1:14:31

Very cheeky and I think this possibly won over so many people, because he was very light hearted, but he was never a victim.

 

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:14:41

He would go out, and you could see his rapport with teachers in schools, you know, and you'd have that embarrassing moment when your dad's coming up the drive, you know, because you don't want your dad's job to be where you go to school, you know, he’d often come because we had our English as a Second Language Department there and the teachers there, they absolutely loved him. They absolutely he would come to the school under the pretence of watching my myself and my brother playing rugby. Oh no, no. He never actually saw me play rugby. His back would be to the pitch. And there's a group of these fellow teachers on some touchline over there, laughing and joking, and you think your dad's watching you play rugby, right? It was a social life with these other teachers, you know.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:15:33

And this is what I mean about not negatively affecting your family life. You didn't take that to heart. 

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:15:39

No, no, no. I lived very much under the radar. My older brother was pushing the boundaries on him get on with that, because he was the first brother, you know, he had the long hair and all the rest of it, and I let him take the flak. I just did it quietly. I used to sneak out late at night, you know, very quietly. My dad knew it was going on. He said, as new as long as I got home, he didn't care. He didn't mind. I told him. Always told him where I was going, usually to the students. I was still in school, but I was going to the Student Union to watch bands. I started doing that at the age of 15. You know, I disappear at about half past 9-10, o'clock at night, go and watch bands then roll home.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:16:21

Was it hard for your mum with your dad being away from home most of the day?

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:16:29

I think she appreciates it now and later on in life, but she feels robbed, she felt robbed at the time because normal people were doing things, but you could never get my dad to go out for a meal. It would never happen, you know, it never happened. If he went out for a meal, he would usually know the people, because usually it'd be other Italian restaurant or Indian restaurant, so he'd know the people who run restaurant. They'd make a big fuss I mean, he didn't want that. And he always used to say, you know, we'd go out in an Indian restaurant, you know, occasionally, and we'd sit down, and they'd come out. Oh, Mr. Mooneeram, what do you want to eat? Anything you want he said, oh, just get me, just grill me a piece of lamb. Nothing else, no sauce on it. Just grill me a piece of meat on that. And I have a small whiskey. That's it. I don't want anything else. And he would sit there. We'd have, you know, the full monty, but he would never, and, you know, trying to arrange something, you know, to them to go out somewhere like my mum's birthday or his birthday. Oh, forget it, for his birthday. But I do have a very lovely photograph of perhaps the last birthday that I think you'd really enjoyed was his 60th, when we did a surprise party for him in the house, and it was good fun. And the one before that was when, the year before that, we just had a thing in the garden, just the family, and he looks so relaxed. You know, Jasmine is a baby, his granddaughter's a baby. He's got her in his arms, and it's just a perfect family moment. And if I think back to that day, it's what I would call a perfect day, it's what I would have called a perfect day, definitely.

 

 

 

Robin Chaddah-Duke  1:18:18

Just a little question, if we just bring it slightly back to him, you speak so much of your father's tolerance in your own life and his approach to parenting. You do you think his approach to sort of working with communities and helping liaison lots of people and allowing people to experience each other's cultures, did you see an impact on that and attitudes changing? Do you think the parade was really a place where, I mean, you spoke about it yourself, that it opened your eyes to those things. 

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:18:45

Most definitely. I'll give you a specific example of that. You know, there are too many stories to talk about, but there is a specific example in the early 80s, as used to happen during our entire life growing up, we ended up with someone's child living with us, you know, problem child. Oh, my parents would get a phone call: oh, I can't manage this one can you help out? And this was a phone call from Kuwait. And the guy, the kid’s father, was working for a chemical company, he was Iraqi by birth, but he was working for a Lambert Warner in Pontypool, a chemical company, and he said, I can't manage. 

 

He remarried, and the son wasn't getting on with the new mother, you know and he was that difficult, 13-14 age group. So his father decided that he'd met my dad some time ago, and he said, can you look after him for the summer? So this boy turned up the whole of the summer. First year he turned up. Oh, he just hated us. Absolutely hated us. The first few days of being here. Didn't want to be in our house, didn't want to be you know and my dad, sort of, as he used to do, said, oh, can you take care of him? You know, one of you, or, you know, help out. So he became my responsibility. Anyway, this boy had so many pent up hatred against various backgrounds, people - it was incredible. You know, he'd grown up in Iraq. They were now living in Kuwait, and he came over here. And one example, oh, I can't stand Jews. You know, when we were in Marks and Spencer and a lot of stuff in Marks and Spencer was made in Israel, and he would go in there, I'm not buying this. I'm not buying that. So we thought, oh, where's this hatred coming from? So we took him to a party in one of Vin’s friend's house, Dave Kitchener from school. We took him to a party, and we didn't tell him Kitch was Jewish, and we just left him to it, and walking away at the end of the night, and he said, Oh, Bill, he's such a fantastic guy, that was his nickname, Bill was such a fantastic guy, marvelous. So the next day, we said to him, do you know he's Jewish? Perception changed. Same with Korean people. We went out walking, him, my dad, myself, we went walking Brecon Beacons, and he'd decided to leave all his rubbish up in the mountains, so I saw it but I said, we're going to walk on a bit, and I'm going to make him come back. So we walked on for about a mile. And I said, oh, you left something behind when we left the last place. You better go and pick it up, because, look around, there's no rubbish here. So he was having an argument with me on this mountaintop. I said, one of two things is going to happen, either you're going to go back and get it, or you're going to be down there.

 

He stormed off, came back and he said, I don't see why I should do this. In my country, Koreans do this. So I thought, oh, interesting, interesting. So following week, my dad introduced him to Tong Lung Kim, who was the martial arts instructor, 8th Dan grandmaster. We just went, he took him to the class just to let him see what was going on. He didn't tell him he's a Korean, just said, oh, what do you think of this, there's him doing all this amazing martial arts stuff was amazing, amazing. So at the end of it, my dad said to him, would you like to ask him to pick your rubbish up? He's a Korean. But it is about perceptions and integration, and people breaking down barriers, and people mixing, those exchange groups were fantastic, because you get people with a viewpoint, you know, their little view of, say, Stuttgart, or their little view of Nantes they come over here, they meet people with a view of Cardiff. But they... things change, and it does change people. And I feel very sorry that we, we've personally, I feel very sorry that we seem to have gone a little bit backwards in terms of all that integration that used to go on. 

 

Farah Allibhai  1:23:08

I think your father understood the power of dialogue and communication.

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:23:14

Without doubt.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:23:15

So coming back to the community groups, I know that the Ismaili Ugandan Asians used the building, the puja committee, I think they were, their first iteration was at the parade that's still existing, isn't it? 

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:23:33

Yeah the Shree Kutchi Leva Patel Samaj, they were using it until they had their centre in Grangetown. The India society, Raj Aggarwal, until they built the India centre, they all used to use - I've got photographs of your mum and Raj Aggarwal at an event in the parade, you know, they’re looking at some material, someone came in and was selling material. And, you know, a good old Asian woman can't avoid it, can't avoid material sale so they all were.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:24:04

And so there were also Somali refugees that used to parade in the 90s.

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:24:11

All sorts of refugees, you know, you had the Vietnamese refugees and you know, you look at the way the Vietnamese communities integrated into Cardiff life and has done well for itself. And it is that I think immigrants bring a new perspective on life, especially immigrants who've been through a tough time, they've realized that, you know, they've got an opportunity to make their lives, turn their lives around and given the right tools and the right conditions, they will flourish. They will flourish. It's when they're met with bigotry and hatred and all the rest of it. You know, immigration is such a good thing. Look at America if it's allowed to happen properly, immigration is a marvellous thing. It's not just financially, it's culturally, what you learn from other people, what you learn from other people and their ways of life. You know the gentleness that comes along with... I always was amazed how gentle the Japanese people were we used to meet. A gentle civility to them, to everything they did. And some of the Asian communities, you know, they that gentleness. They weren't like us, loud and brash. They were nice people.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:25:38

Yeah, I remember your father recalling his story of how the Rastafarians used to use the basement in the 70s, but he had to stop that, because they were smoking weed. For the greater good he told them that they couldn't use it anymore because, you know, they were smoking the herd. And that didn't go down too well. So I think your father ruffled feathers in and out of communities. 

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:26:01

 Absolutely. There were some communities who thought he was in it for himself. I remember there was a community who some of whom attended my school, who took a delegation to the City Hall to complain about him, accusing him of favouritism towards other communities. And that's the last thing he would have done. I mean, there's a shot somewhere amongst all these photographs of him addressing a room full of people from and so called community leaders, self-professed community leaders of all backgrounds in this room, basically knocking their heads together and saying, listen to you all because they were supposed to be, you know, having this meeting where they could thrash things out and talk about their differences and, you know, come to agreement. You know, basically, we're all batting on, you know, we're all should be singing from the same hymn sheet about development of kids and all the rest of it. But no, there were these little agendas going on, and he basically tore them a new one that day. And a lot of those people who are now, some lot of whom are not around anymore, but some of those guys for years afterwards, talked about that night. It literally was a sobering moment for them to be talked to like that, and said, Yeah, we realize now what we need to do, bringing them together. But yeah, he did ruffle feathers. And I'm sure there were some people who thought, yeah, he was having a go at because, as I understood it, weed was permissible in the Rastafarians communities as part of a religious ceremony. But it couldn't happen in the parade, because the police would have been, and for their good, the police would have been on it like a ton of bricks. You know, it wasn't as liberal as it is now.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:27:56

And we talk about ruffling feathers, I think he must have done that in education as well?

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:28:01

Oh well without a doubt. I mean, he was a thorn in the side of authority.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:28:04

And can you just unpack that please, like, why?

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:28:07

If I could, I mean, they would tell him he couldn't do something or that funding wasn't available. He would fight tooth and nail to get that funding or to secure a place for that particular person in a school when they were told, Oh, they're not going to mainstream school, you know, they should be educated somewhere else or some headmaster resisted, but usually he had excellent relations with the headmasters, usually someone in the Education Office, not a director level, though, because he always had a good working relationship with the directors. He cut through the crap. He just, yeah, let's get this done. Very much about that, but he raffled feathers. He wasn't an establishment person at all. He didn't attend the right dinners. Wasn't into it. He preferred to be home, very much. Preferred to be home and go socializing with the right people after work, never happened. With his staff. He loved his staff. Absolutely loved the people of the parade. Agnes, Kean, Margot, Mike Adlington, you know, Rick Collett, oh, these people were priceless to him, you know, absolutely priceless.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:29:21

Harbhajan Ryatt

 

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:29:23

Harbhajan, oh how can I... I have photographs of Harbhajan teaching there in this group here, absolute legend.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:31:00

And of course, let's just move to retirement, because at that point, moment in retirement, and if you could just confirm the date the parade was then handed over to female Muslim woman from outside of Cardiff. Can you tell me when that was?

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:31:16

That was April 1993.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:31:19

And that was the time your father retired?

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:31:23

He literally came home from work, and he was ill from that day. And I think what he did, he fell on his sword. He saw the writing was on the wall, funding wise, and he took it very personally. He'd seen the correspondence. He was involved with the exchange of the correspondence. So he sacrificed himself. He literally sacrificed himself. He went in and said, I'm retiring because he wanted to create opportunities for the people coming through.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:31:51

I don't quite understand that he saw the funding problems.

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:31:56

Yeah, well, they were going to trim down on the staff in the parade, simple as - the question of numbers. And he thought that if he goes, it opens opportunities. He was 62 and but I think he would have been happier working without a doubt, but what we tried to do when he retired, we were working towards this, Vin and myself. We created an office for him in Richmond Road. We thought, oh, you know, you can do all this other stuff without the shackles of South Glamorgan on your back. You know he loved being a JP magistrate, loved sitting in the courts, absolutely loved it. Again, that was an opportunity to exercise life. You know, real life issues. You know, people come in across that court, some of them, you know, not everyone's a sob story. If you deserve to go to prison, you're going to go to prison, or you deserve a custodial sentence, you're going to get a custodial sentence. But some people need a break. And it's recognizing that, and it's also about disseminating that to your fellow members on the bench. You speak to people who we sat with on the bench, you know, 4 to 30 years later, they thought, yeah, he was good.

 

Farah Allibhai  1:33:13

So another, another one of his rolls...

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:33:19

He always said, though he recognized, you know, he worked in a time where the chair of the bench, when he first came on, it was a woman called Hilda Cohen, Jewish lady whose husband was Isaac Cohen of Leo Abse & Cohen, Cardiff's biggest law firm at that time, Cardiff's bigger law firm. And they were left wing, good old Jewish people, you know, who were right on and, you know, they were first generation after the war to come to Cardiff, and did very well, and but they were very liberal and open minded. And he worked with those people. And some of it must have come off, rubbed off on him, you know, having seen the way they operate as well. He always spoke highly. He was never kept it to himself. He always spoke highly of people who influenced him in his life. Without a doubt. No, it wasn't all, you know, oh, I invented this, you know, he always spoke highly of people who had a major impact on his life, going back to his early days. You know people in his youth who were big mentors to him,

 

Farah Allibhai  1:34:28

I feel that we have only touched on your father's life. And what I think would be fitting is that, is there anything that you could put together in a short phrase or something that just sums up your experience of your father, the parade, and maybe what resilience means.

 

Preet Mooneeram  1:34:54

Oh crumbs it’s going to be difficult this. Well, resilience - that was that embodied everything about him, absolute resilience. Was being told you can't do something, being told, you know it's against the odds to do that. Well, that's the worst thing you could have said to him. He'll show you how we can be done and never give up on someone. Never give up on someone. You know, he would always try every avenue to make that person's life, make them see that they can have a better life, or improve their situation, or do what they want to do. And kindness, there was always a kindness there always a kind person. I think, you know, you name it, he was kind to most people, you know, he had a smile on his face, and you wouldn't see the bad in people first off, always give them a chance. Always give everyone a chance. And his ability to deal with people at any level, really, any level, be it Queen, Cardinal, Pope, you name it, he'd be able to have conversations with them, dustbin man, me, you know, he'd be able to speak to anyone and, you know, show a genuine interest in their lives. Not patronizing, not patronizing. As an institute, as an institution, the parade was, you talk to any one from that time, about 28th parade, they all knew what it meant. You know, people from various communities. Oh, where's Ravi? He’s down in the parade, oh, yeah, okay, I'm going there. They knew what it was, it was like, but it was, you know, some people have a church and they know that's the centre of their community. That's their bond. For various communities across Cardiff, the parade was it. Absolutely it. A building which I walk past in the mornings on my way to work sometimes, like I'm in tears at it. Sometimes I've gone in there. I've gone behind the metal harris fencing and cleared the rubbish from the steps, because it's depressing to see what it has become and what is allowed to become. And this is a time, look what's happening in the world. This is what we need. This is what we need.