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Hamilton Spectator
22-05-2025
- Business
- Hamilton Spectator
Milton's South Asian Communities Embrace Peace After India-Pakistan Conflict
Milton is home to a vibrant and diverse immigrant population, including a significant number of residents from Pakistan and India. As tensions between the two countries have historically been high, recent news of a pause in hostilities has brought a sense of relief to the local community. Residents from both countries are now focused on moving forward in peace and harmony, thankful for the stability they have found in Canada. The recent easing of conflict between India and Pakistan has triggered mixed emotions worldwide. But for many Indo-Canadian and Pakistani-Canadian residents of Milton, the dominant feeling is one of relief. Many have expressed gratitude for the peaceful environment they enjoy in Canada and their hope that tensions overseas do not escalate further. 'I feel relieved that the fighting has stopped. We don't want to see any more conflicts between the two countries, especially after what has happened in the past,' said Rina Patel, a 35-year-old Indo-Canadian who has lived in Milton for more than a decade. 'We're lucky to live in Canada, where we can feel safe, work together and raise our families in peace. That's the most important thing for me.' Milton's growing population of Pakistani and Indo-Canadian immigrants has forged a path toward unity. These two communities, long divided by historic and political tensions, have found common ground in Canada's multicultural landscape. Residents from both backgrounds live in the same neighbourhoods, work in similar industries and, in many cases, have married across community lines. There is a growing sense that Canada's inclusive society encourages collaboration and mutual understanding—even when global events raise concerns. For many in the Indo-Canadian community, the message is clear: peace is essential. They are grateful for the opportunities available in Canada, especially the chance to live free from the geopolitical disputes that continue to affect their countries of origin. Many are hopeful not only for peace between India and Pakistan, but also for stronger local ties between the two communities. 'I've always said that if people can live together and work together here, they can do it anywhere,' said Harjit Singh, a 40-year-old business owner who immigrated from India 15 years ago. 'Canada has given us the chance to be who we are, while still finding ways to collaborate and live in peace.' Singh said that despite historic tensions between the countries, many families in Milton are not defined by political boundaries. He sees daily examples of co-operation—whether it's business partnerships or cultural events where both communities come together to celebrate. 'Milton has shown me that despite our past, we are capable of living side by side and building a better future for our kids,' he said. 'We live in Canada now. The emphasis should be on peace, not war.' Pakistani-Canadian residents in Milton share similar hopes. For many, the most recent conflict brought back painful memories of the instability back home. But they also expressed deep appreciation for the peaceful life they've built in Canada. 'Back home, we could never feel at peace, especially when things get worse between India and Pakistan. It's stressful,' said Ali Ahmed, a 30-year-old engineer who moved to Milton six years ago. 'But living here in Canada, I don't have to worry about that. The people here don't care about the divisions between our countries. They care about our humanity and how we contribute to this community.' Ahmed said that while he still feels a deep connection to Pakistan, he is equally proud to call Milton home. When news broke of the recent hostilities, he was concerned for family overseas. But the support and understanding he experienced locally reminded him of the strong bonds that exist in his Canadian community. 'My friends here, whether from India or Pakistan, all agree on one thing: we want peace,' he said. 'We don't want to see people suffering. We want a future where our kids can grow up without the burden of our past.' For many Pakistani-Canadians, the threat of conflict between their country and India has long loomed large. But in Canada, those fears no longer define their lives. One strong symbol of this unity is the increasing number of intercultural marriages between Indo-Canadian and Pakistani-Canadian residents. Many such couples are choosing to embrace both heritages and build a life together rooted in peace and shared values. 'We're from two different cultures, but that doesn't matter in Canada,' said Saira Malik, a Pakistani-Canadian woman married to an Indo-Canadian man. 'In this country, we have the freedom to choose who we want to marry, regardless of where we're from or what our family history is. We're both here for the same reason: we want peace, love and opportunity.' Her husband, Arvind, shared a similar view. 'The world back home can be complicated, but here, it's a different story,' he said. 'People from all over the world live and work together, and that makes this country so unique. We've learned to respect each other's differences, and that makes life better.' As the threat of war remains a distant reality, both Indo-Canadian and Pakistani-Canadian residents in Milton remain hopeful. Many say that living in a peaceful, multicultural community has allowed them to focus on family, work and community engagement. 'I don't want to see any more bloodshed between our countries,' said Patel. 'We have a chance here in Canada to show what living together in peace really means. I'm hopeful that the next generation will continue this work of bringing people together, no matter where they come from.' Despite their diverse backgrounds, Milton residents are united in their call for lasting peace between India and Pakistan. For now, they are committed to building a shared future in the country they now call home—one grounded in respect, understanding and a strong desire to leave conflict behind. According to the 2021 Census, Milton, had a population of 132,979. Of that number, approximately 16,040 residents—or 12.2 per cent—identified as having Pakistani ethnic origins, while about 14,120 people, or 10.7 per cent, reported Indian ethnic origins. These two communities make up a significant portion of Milton's population, underscoring the town's growing diversity and strong South Asian presence.
RNZ News
04-05-2025
- General
- RNZ News
Missing pieces: Leaving India in search of a new life
(Left to right) Magan, Jeram, Manilal and Bhana Fakir were the original Bhana Brothers in Auckland in the 1930s. Photo: Supplied / Roshni Kesha The first installment of a four-part series on Indian migration to New Zealand Data from the 2023 Census shows the Indian population is now the third-largest ethnic group in New Zealand, but what was the experience of early immigrants from South Asia? Rina Patel looks back at her grandparents' incredible journey in a bid to fill in the missing pieces of her family's past. Long before Ponsonby Road was home to specialty coffee shops and designer stores, four Indian brothers planted their roots in Auckland, selling fresh produce from a small grocer that would grow into a city icon. Bhana Brothers, a name now woven into the fabric of Auckland's history, was founded in the late 1930s by Bhana, Jeram, Magan and Manilal Fakir - four siblings who left India in the 1920s in search of a new life. However, their journey didn't begin there - the first whisper of their family's connection to Aotearoa actually came from an earlier generation. Rina Patel, granddaughter of Jeram Fakir, knows little about her great-grandfather - only that he was the first of their whānau to set foot in Aotearoa. She doesn't know how he arrived or where he might've disembarked. And only a few weeks ago did she find out his name - Fakir Chhiba. Rina Patel is a fourth-generation Indian-New Zealander on a mission to learn more about her family history. Photo: Supplied / Rina Patel "That was like a missing piece for our whānau," Patel says. "I had been trying to find out his name. … I asked my mum again and she was able to recall it. What did help was her thinking about the naming convention." In Patel's family, naming conventions followed a paternal surname, meaning their father's first name would become their last name. It also meant that family names varied from generation to generation. "I've been trying to find his immigration record and just this weekend gone via 'family search' … his name does appear in there," Patel says. "It looks like he arrived in 1930 or 1931. … I'd love to find out what boat he came on and whether there's a record of his passport details. That would be great, I'd love a printout of that." Like many early Indian migrants to New Zealand, Patel's whānau came from the Navsari region of Gujarat, a coastal stretch in western India known for its deep trading history and centuries-old ties to migration. Jeram Fakir and his brothers arrived in Aotearoa in the 1930s. Photo: Supplied / Rina Patel The Fakir brothers would have been among a small number of Gujarati teenagers arriving in New Zealand for work as scrub cutters, drain diggers, flax workers, bottle collectors, and hawkers of fruit and vegetables. It would have been an incredibly difficult journey. Travel from India to New Zealand in the early 1900s was gruelling and often dangerous. Steamships cut through vast stretches of ocean, their lowest decks cramped with passengers who could afford little more than a ticket in steerage. Tiered bunks lined the dimly lit holds, where travellers slept shoulder-to-shoulder. Meals were starchy, water was scarce. For families, the conditions were even harsher. Women and children were separated from men in different holds, and there were no facilities for babies or toddlers. On voyages lasting six weeks to two months, mothers clung to their infants, fearful they might slip from their grasp - or worse, disappear into the sea. Dahi Jeram travelled to New Zealand with her 2-year-old daughter, Jasu, in 1948. Photo: Supplied / Rina Patel Patel's grandmother, Dahi Jeram, endured that very journey in 1948, travelling to New Zealand with her 2-year-old daughter, Jasu. When Patel imagines the voyage, her mind swirls with questions. "In my mind, I just keep picturing that it would've been really basic," she says. "I think of bread and water - I don't even know what people had on voyages of that nature. My grandparents would have been able to tell me, but I would have been too young to have even asked these questions. "I'd love to know, just to get an idea of what that environment was like. Was it loud? Could you sleep? When it got cold, would you freeze? If it rained, you know boats have different levels, were you exposed? Was it like being in a sardine tin can? It's definitely a mystery, where am I getting all these ideas from? I'm sort of constructing them because it's all I can do." Jeram and Dahi relocated to Taranaki in the 1950s, where they raised their four children: (left to right) Jasu, Usha, Indira and Ashok. Photo: Supplied / Rina Patel By the time Dahi arrived in New Zealand, Jeram Fakir had left Bhana Brothers and relocated to Eltham, a small town in South Taranaki, where he opened a fruit shop. Baby Jasu soon had three younger siblings to play with: Ashok, Usha and Patel's mother, Indira. In a self-published short story collection titled 22, Patel describes Eltham as a "small, white-as-cheese-and-bland-as-unsalted-butter of a town". She can only imagine the culture shock and challenges her grandparents faced at the time, navigating something so different from the home they had left behind. "I just don't know how that was absorbed or felt. I went on a road trip to Eltham with a cousin of mine, years ago now. … I was like, 'I wanna see where my mum grew up'. "We got there and the maunga was stunning off the main road. We saw the Eltham town hall, we saw the building where they had their fruit shop, spotted the building they grew up in as well. But I felt very out of place in Eltham and that was only 10, 12 years ago. And so, if I'm feeling out of place, how did they feel in the 1950s?" Dahi and her daughter Indira sit outside their home in Eltham, Taranaki. Photo: Supplied / Rina Patel Hostility and resistance were everyday realities for these pioneering families. Throughout the early to mid-1900s, laws aimed at restricting the entry of "race aliens" - a term used to target Indians and Chinese - were repeatedly introduced. But even with these barriers, the threat of a so-called "Hindoo Peril" - coined from a 1917 cartoon about the volume of Indian immigrants entering New Zealand - still loomed. In some pockets of Auckland, bars, hotels, barber shops and dress circles of cinemas openly refused entry to Indians. Meanwhile, securing stable employment remained just as difficult. The Shop and Office Act of 1921-22 sought to limit business ownership to British subjects, but with India under British rule until 1947, Indian migrants were, legally, British subjects themselves. As a result, many migrants turned to self-employment, opening fruit shops, running market gardens and selling fresh produce door to door. Patel's grandparents made a life for themselves in Eltham, all things considered. However, an undercurrent of racial tension was often present. "It was never spoken about but there were definitely attitudes that my ba (grandma) and dada (grandfather) carried around for sure," Patel says. "The term 'goriya' (white people), you'd hear that a lot as a kid." While not always negative, Patel sensed an unspoken awareness of Pākeha dominance in her grandparents' generation. "I was kind of made aware of that in a really non-direct way," she says. "I might just hear them talking about 'goriya' in a conversation in the background and think, they have strong feelings about these people. "There's definitely some attitude there and maybe judgement, maybe prejudice, but that's not unusual for anyone that's tauiwi (non-Māori), I think." Dahi and Jeram moved to Auckland when their four children became young adults. They're pictured here with their grandson, Rakesh. Photo: Supplied / Rina Patel Dahi and Jeram moved back to Auckland when their four children became young adults and, in 1974, Patel's father immigrated to New Zealand and married her mother. According to Patel, the family got into the dairy pipeline "big time". "We were in the dairy business for a good 18, 19 years. Our first dairy was on Ponsonby Road. We lived upstairs, so it would've been tiny. "But then like all the brownies in Ponsonby at the time, it got gentrified and we all moved out and ended up in Otāhuhu, running dairies there. I spent a lot of my childhood behind the counter with my parents." Fittingly, the family's time in business came full circle. Decades after her grandparents' first fruit shop in Eltham, their final venture was a fruit and vegetable shop in Onehunga. Patel's parents, Indira and Magan, stand outside their Onehunga fruit shop in the early 2000s. Photo: Supplied / Rina Patel Patel has few memories of her grandparents but, as she's grown older, she's come to understand the weight of their sacrifices - the years spent apart, living fragmented lives on opposite sides of the world, all in the hope of building a better future for her parents' generation, and her own. She remembers her grandma as "quiet and sweet and generous, just an observer," always in the kitchen making kadhi or reading Gujarati books by lamplight. Her grandfather, on the other hand, was full of zest. "He would always pat me on the back real hard. It was a 'thud, thud'," she recalls "I don't know if he was trying to put energy into me or just wanted to let me know I was alive. "I don't know how he perceived me, but it always cracked me up. I'd brace myself for the big thud whenever he saw me. I think it was just love." The Bhana Brothers progeny. Photo: Supplied / Rina Patel * Jogai Bhatt travelled to India with support from the Asia New Zealand Foundation.
