A tale of interwoven threads that led Saijid Ali to Clonmel

From Pakistan to Clonmel: Sajid Ali is a 34-year-old business man who has made Clonmel his home since 2015. Ali owns and runs Mizzoni’s Pizza and lives in the town. His friends call him ‘The Clonmel Boy’. This is his story, written by Marie Walsh of his journey from Pakistan to here.

My father was born in Sindh, a place that is famous for a scarf that men wear. The scarf is woven thread by thread and only time and patience can reveal its true pattern. So too my life is woven from different coloured threads.
At 34 years of age, I am still bound by the thread of the village in Pakistan where I was born. This is my first thread - old but strong. The golden thread of my father has weaved itself into all aspects of my life and made me the man I am today.
My family tea shop is a humble thread to remind me to work hard.
The fourth and final thread of my life traces my journey from London to Dublin and finally to my home in Clonmel.
These four threads, woven together, create the pattern of my life, remind me of who I am and show me where I truly belong. And so, this story, my story, is a tale of four interwoven threads.
It was an honour to be born in my village in Pakistan in 1986. My village name is 102/6AR District Sahiwal and post office Harappa. This place is very famous geographically and according to some archaeologists, dates to about 5,000 BC. I was born in a very small home - a soil house made of clay. I am part of my village, and my village is part of me. I saw a hard life, but I got a lot of courage from my father.
Nobody is like my father. When I was in college, I took the local bus, and would see so many people begging. I remember feeling confused and thinking, they have full legs and good health, and I would hear them say, “Please give us one rupee”.
As I watched them, I thought of my dad who had one arm. His left arm was normal, but he was born with only half a right arm which stopped at his elbow. Even though he only had one hand, physically my father had the power of two or four men - soldier power. Nobody is like my father. My family business was originally woodcutting. They had big machines to cut even bigger wood – my uncles worked at woodcutting.
One day, my grandmother said to my father, “Now you have the power for two people, three people - 60kg, 80kg, 90kg no problem. You can use your left hand and put the wood easily on your shoulder but for how long? Everybody has a specific time; we are only young for so long and after that, time is gone. Long-term, this job will be too hard, so choose another job that is easier to do and will help your family survive”.
My father listened. He started a tea stall from one table right outside our house, opposite the main road. We had one cow with good fresh milk: natural, everything good. We had beautiful trees, very simple things really. And people would walk and sometimes stop to enjoy their tea. When business got very busy, my father rented a tea shop on the corner and worked there for 48 years.
There was an ice factory near the tea shop. Early in the morning at 3am, people would arrive at the factory with a small trolley pulled by a donkey or horse. They would buy big blocks of ice to sell to different villages in the hot weather of the summer to make soft drinks. And it was because of this ice that my father’s tea shop was busy. My father would make a drink – yoghourt with a little bit of milk, water, and sugar and of course the ice. We call this lassi and it is like Actimel. My father also served it with a golden star bun (like brioche) with fruit inside. So, people would come and make their order for lassi or tea, fresh yogurt, biscuits, and cigarettes.
My father’s first wife died and when it came time to marry again, it was up to my grand uncle and aunt to find him a wife. Nobody wanted to give a woman to my dad saying, “Oh no, he has no full body” and that he should find a woman who was disabled. My uncle believed: “If one is disabled and the other is complete, then they can have a long life together.”
My uncle treated my father like a son and wanted a good life for him. In time, he did find a wife for my father. My parents had six children but five are alive as the first born, a boy, died. Asif was the next boy, and he is still in Pakistan running a cash and carry shop. Then I was born, followed by three more siblings.
Like all children, as I grew up, I started to understand things more - what someone is really speaking or thinking. I saw clearly how hard my father worked. He is a motivational person for me and when I look at his picture in my room, my courage goes up. And I needed this courage for the next journey of my life when I moved to England.

JOURNEY TO ENGLAND
In 2008, I tried several times to get a visa for England but was always refused. As part of the appeal, I asked my solicitor to write about how I came second place in an essay competition out of all of Pakistan. The essay was an analysis on the history of a famous doctor – Dr Sajid Malik Awan. When I won, I got a certificate from the Human Rights Human Welfare Association. My solicitor told me it was not relevant, but reluctantly agreed to tell them about the competition. In 2010, when I won my visa appeal the judge wrote, “This student is brilliant, how can I stop him? He got second position in all of Pakistan”. When I showed this to my solicitor, he shook his head and said: “Ok my friend, you are a solicitor, not me”.
From 2010, I spent five years in England doing a little study and a lot of work. In all these years, any money I made went to my dad’s pocket. I supported him financially and helped when my brother and then my sister got married. I bought my dad a house as a gift – a big house with proper bricks. My father only had one hand, but at that moment, I became the right hand of my father.
In 2015, a good friend of mine came to Ireland and he kept saying, “My brother, you have to come here”. I remember looking around Dublin and thinking how polite and how very helpful Irish people were. When I went to the bank or the GP, it was never a problem, very easy. Some Turkish fellas started a new restaurant, so I worked there for a few months before getting a job as a butcher.

ARRIVING IN CLONMEL
In 2016, I moved to Clonmel when another friend opened a grocery shop here and needed a butcher. I jumped at the chance. I could walk in the evenings, enjoy nature. One night, I saw a seafood shop. Somebody told me it was run by a Pakistani guy, so I went in looking for a job and started as a dishwasher. In the kitchen, I kept watching the chef to see how he peeled the prawns and what sauce he used, everything. When the chef left, I took over the kitchen. And now thanks to God, I am the boss in my own takeaway. I started with nine milkshakes, and it is now No. 1 in Clonmel.
I learned the way of business from my dad. My father never closed the shop in Pakistan – he worked seven days a week ‘til 3 or 4 in the morning. I closed my restaurant last night at 2 am. I am like my dad, and I am happy with this.
These four threads, my village, the tea shop, my dad, and my journey from Pakistan to Ireland, all combine to make a pattern - the unique fingerprint of my life.
My first sense of home is Pakistan. I can’t close my eyes from my village, from where I was born. Where I learned how to walk holding my father’s fingers. When I was young, my father put me on one shoulder and my brother on the other as he walked from the market. And how could I forget all these things?
First love, first friends, first job – these first things in your life you can never forget. They are part of my life, part of my soul. My Mum, Dad, brothers, and sisters all still live in Pakistan, and I am the only one here. My heart still beats with my village.

THE CLONMEL BOY
My second home is Clonmel, and my friends even call me “The Clonmel Boy”. There are times in Clonmel when I get the same smells as my village. Here, people care about family and the town is like a village where I know a lot of people by name.
My Sense of Place is grounded in the deep respect I hold for other people. Whether I am in my village in Pakistan or my town of Clonmel, they are all my neighbours and I treat them with respect.
In life, we have two obligations we must fulfil – to do what our religion asks of us and to treat others well. Islam says if you want a nice life, make a circle, and then look after the people in that circle. Life is not the destination. It is like we are walking to get to a certain place and life is the way of walking.
When you buy something like a camera, you get a small instruction book telling you how to open it, how to use it. Allah, our God, sent a small book with a prophet to explain how it all works and how to embrace our humanity. This is our book, our manifesto, and we need to read and learn how to treat people.
I am Pakistani. I am Irish. If you ask me which I love more, Pakistan or Ireland, then I am a child in front of this question. You cannot ask a child, “Do you love Mum or Dad more?”. I have only one heart and in that heart, I love Pakistan and I love Ireland. I am Pakistani; I am Irish. And I am also just a person trying to be the best human I can be.

Marie Walsh

Marie Walsh is a mother, singer, songwriter, teacher and a self-confessed optimist! Dublin-born, she now lives in Tipperary with her two amazing children, Holly and Tom. She is a lecturer in Limerick Institute of Technology with a passion/obsession to understand human behaviour. Marie believes that light always wins and that anything is possible.

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