A peek into London lives of ousted AL leaders

Within days of the Awami League regime's collapse on August 5 last year, a steady stream of former ministers, MPs, and high-profile loyalists slipped out of the country, seeking safety in foreign shores.

Now, more than a year later, many of them have resurfaced in London, no longer hiding in silence but circling back into public view, trying to signal relevance even as their reputations remain under a cloud.

In the first few months of exile, they were in hushed conversations among the diaspora. They stayed indoors, tucked away in houses mostly in East London and in anonymous outer boroughs.

But gradually, they have become visible, appearing at political gatherings of party activists, attending social events, even showing up at demonstrations. The Bangladeshi community in London has begun to see the outlines of a once-powerful machine struggling to reassemble itself abroad.

Several former leaders have re-emerged through the UK Awami League (UK AL). Among them are Shofiqur Rahman Choudhury, former state minister for expatriates' welfare, Anwaruzzaman Chowdhury, former mayor of Sylhet City Corporation and currently a joint secretary of UK AL, and Habibur Rahman Habib, former MP for Sylhet-3.

All three, with longstanding ties to Britain and formal residency status, are active in party activities. Their involvement with UK AL is viewed as an effort to preserve political identity abroad despite facing corruption and criminal charges at home.

Other exiled figures have also surfaced at public events. Khalid Mahmud Chowdhury, the former state minister for shipping, and Abu Sayeed Al Mahmood Swapon, a former MP and parliament whip, have both been seen at community gatherings.

Abdur Rahman, the former fisheries and livestock minister and Presidium member of the AL, has appeared at rallies and demonstrations in East London.

SM Rezaul Karim, former fisheries and livestock minister, has become a visible presence in London, continuing his role as an active party leader.

Kabir Bin Anwar, who retired as cabinet secretary in early 2024 before joining the AL ranks, made his first public appearance in London earlier this year.

By contrast, some leaders remain out of the spotlight. Ranjit Chandra Sarkar, former MP for Sunamganj-1, and Kazi Abdul Wadud Dara, former state minister for rural development, rarely appear at public gatherings.

Saifuzzaman Chowdhury, the former land minister, has not been seen in public, though his property holdings in the UK have drawn scrutiny as part of corruption probes.

Hasan Mahmud, the former foreign minister now based in Brussels and reported to have secured UK residency rights, is wanted in Bangladesh for alleged crimes against humanity during the 2024 student–people uprising. He nevertheless attends select diaspora events linked to his party.

For some, the road to London was a story in itself. One former minister described his escape as something "fit for a Netflix thriller".

Speaking to The Daily Star, he recounted how, in the chaotic days after the collapse, he walked for days through the borderlands, eventually slipping into India under cover of darkness. There, he hid for several nights, relying on sympathetic contacts, before being moved discreetly through immigration patchwork that ultimately secured him safe passage to the United Kingdom.

"It was a story of fear, hunger, and uncertainty," he said, half boasting, half lamenting, "the kind of ordeal people would only believe if they saw it on screen."

The journey to Britain was not straightforward for others either. Immigration lawyers who spoke to The Daily Star said many of the politicians first crossed into India before making their way to the UK through a tangle of immigration channels.

A few had the privilege of long-term visas or indefinite leave to remain. Some reportedly never surrendered British citizenship obtained years earlier. Others arrived empty-handed and are now seeking asylum, telling officials that their lives would be in grave danger if they were forced back to Bangladesh.

Their families, too, form part of the exodus. The wives and children of influential leaders have quietly arrived in Britain, some joining relatives who had been settled here for years. Others remain stranded at home, their journeys blocked by tighter immigration rules.

Beyond the politicians, a secondary wave of pro-AL lawyers, journalists, bureaucrats, and businessmen has also taken root in Britain since August 2024. Some face serious criminal charges back home, including corruption and even murder.

For those who managed to escape with families, London offers a veneer of normalcy: quiet evenings in community restaurants, weekends at private parties, and the semblance of a routine that masks the uncertainty beneath.

For those who arrived alone, isolation gnaws at them, though they are often seen in online talk shows and virtual strategy sessions with comrades scattered across Bangladesh, India, and other diaspora strongholds. At political meetings in London halls, they speak with defiance, insisting that exile is a temporary setback.

In private, the cracks are visible. One former minister admitted to this correspondent that acknowledging mistakes made in July 2024 would be political suicide.

"If we say we were wrong, the ground beneath our feet disappears," he said, his voice heavy with bitterness.

Another, more buoyant, spoke with optimism. "By December, something will happen," he insisted, "and Awami League will once again have space to breathe."

Much of their confidence rests not only on internal party calculations but also on geopolitical factors. Several of the exiles hinted that India, unsettled by Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus at the helm of the interim administration, may yet flex its muscles through trade barriers to tilt the balance.

But beneath the defiance lies a question that refuses to go away: how are they surviving? London is one of the most expensive cities in the world, and many of these figures lack the right to work or access public funds. Yet they reside in comfortable homes and appear untroubled by financial hardship.

Party loyalists claim the leaders had anticipated this moment for years, quietly investing in properties under trusted names, moving funds across borders, and leaning on loyal associates within the diaspora to safeguard their wealth.

Critics see these maneuvers as nothing more than money laundering, yet one fact remains undeniable: exile has done little to strip them of their comforts or influence.

Almost every one of the party leaders who fled, many facing serious allegations of corruption back home, have portrayed themselves as victims of circumstance.

One former MP told a political colleague that he now suffers from protein deficiency and struggles with even basic tasks like grocery shopping. His account paints a picture of hardship that sharply contrasts with the comfortable lives these exiles maintain in London.

Recently, family members of a former minister who had been detained were granted refuge in the UK, illustrating how relatives of high-profile figures are increasingly able to secure protection.

Immigration lawyers told The Daily Star that prominent politicians  or their families are considered particularly vulnerable to persecution or deportation, making them more likely to be granted asylum or residency.

Several similar cases are reportedly underway, suggesting that the exodus of Bangladesh's political elite and their families is far from over.

However, Britain's Labour government has tightened immigration rules, and securing visas for spouses or children has become increasingly uncertain.

Hope, it seems, remains the only currency that exile cannot touch. Despite the dislocation and public humiliation, the ousted power brokers whisper of a comeback, convinced that history will hand them a second act.