Tribute to an extraordinary bureaucrat

M. Mujibul Huq has just passed away. He left us on Sunday, January 12, 2014 at the age of 83. Young people who read or heard the news have come to learn only that he was born at Banoripara in Barisal, joined the Civil Service of Pakistan in 1954, retired as a Cabinet Secretary in 1988, was awarded Bangladesh's highest civilian award Swadhinata Padak in 2005, and that he is survived by his wife, four daughters, and many well-wishers. That's all.

Those who were closely associated with him were perhaps not content reading this brief description about an illustrious personality like him. Mobaidul Islam, who was Deputy Commissioner of Rangpur at the time of Mujibul Huq's retirement, told me over telephone: "It is unfortunate that there was not much coverage in the media about him after his death." Mujibul Huq, according to Mr. Islam, was an extraordinary bureaucrat of outstanding calibre whose integrity, sagacity and administrative capability were unparalleled in the history of our civil service.
To the elderly people who knew him from a close focal distance, he was a 'different' Mujibul Huq. He was much greater than what was said about him in the news media. Such tiny news coverage of this great personality, according to my personal opinion, gives only a part, maybe one-fourth, of his real entity; the rest three-fourth has to be conjured up by the experiences of those who had worked with him, and who were fortunate enough to get his warm companionship.
M Mujibul Huq was the only Cabinet Secretary who was given a grand farewell by the whole cabinet at a function held at Bangabhaban, when H M Ershad was the President of Bangladesh. All the Deputy Commissioners of the districts and all the Commissioners of the divisions of the country gave him a memorable farewell at a local hotel in Dhaka after his retirement. Never before was a Cabinet Secretary so venerated and loved.
Why was he so honoured? It was because he was a man of firm principle and his integrity could never be questioned. Immediately after his retirement, he was offered by President Ershad to be a cabinet minister but he declined the offer very politely. He said: "I want to be remembered as a retired bureaucrat." Instead of becoming a minister after his retirement, he travelled to many remote areas in Bangladesh and met the cross-section of people to propagate the message of democracy and patriotism. He was always imbued with a desire for promoting social justice. His heart bled when he saw rampant corruption and mismanagement in every sector of the government.
I was introduced to M. Mujibul Huq when he was the Cabinet Secretary, and I was Manager of Agrani Bank, Banani Branch. There was a huge gap in rank and status between him and me. I couldn't imagine how a man of his status could draw me so close to him. I could reach him any moment, over phone or in person, as I wished. He even visited me at my office quite a number of times, not always for making banking transactions. He even invited me to his house on Indira Road in Dhaka at a quiet ceremony, where there were many important guests. He attended a number of functions of my family, although he was in no way my relation. He most of the time used to call me "Baba", not Maswood. One day I asked: "Why do you love me so much, Sir?" His succinct answer was: "You are honest and sincere." He told me many things about his personal life and his long career which can be shared only with very close friends.
While presiding over an interview board, where Deputy Secretaries had appeared for their promotion to the rank of Joint Secretaries, M. Mujibul Huq, the then Cabinet Secretary, asked all the interviewees one common question: "What is the number one problem in your country?" A variety of answers came up: population issue, transportation problem, industrial backwardness, etc. Among the hundreds of interviewees, the one who got the highest score from M. Mujibul Huq had answered the question in one phrase: "Leadership crisis".
One day, I still remember, Mujibul Huq called me over my residence telephone number. It was already 8 in the evening. He intoned: "Maswood, I need money and I don't have my check handy as the checkbook is in my office." It was a hefty amount that he needed for the purpose of burial of one of his close relatives. I took a pause. Then I said: "Don't worry, Sir.  I will be with the amount at your place as soon as possible".
I had only one set of keys of the vault and the safe of my bank branch that had to be opened by two more sets of supplementary keys held by my second officer, and the cashier. I called my second officer and the cashier over phone to rush to my office. My second officer Salahuddin was trembling in fear as I was writing a small note on a yellow voucher for a huge amount that was signed only by me, and there was no supporting check. We opened the vault, took the required cash from the safe and put my note along with the cash inside the safe. I knew there was risk and I would have lost my job for what I had done if for any reason I couldn't procure the check from M. Mujibul Huq the next day. But I took the risk. Of course, I telephoned my higher authorities saying that for someone very important I was taking the cash out from the safe without any check cashed and the shortfall in cash would be adjusted by the check of the account-holder the next morning -- never ever mentioning that it was for the Cabinet Secretary. As I handed the cash to Mujibul Huq at 10 at night, I didn't say to him how I had managed the cash so promptly. Of course, I got his check the next day and it was all in perfect order.     
Mujibul Huq was not simply highly respected; he was equally beloved to all he knew -- to the poor and to the rich, to the educated and to the illiterate, to the politicians belonging to the party-in-power and also to those in the opposition. If there were ten persons available in Bangladesh who could be adjudged truly neutral, learned, smart, handsome, and patriotic, M. Mujibul Huq would have been among the first five, if not the top of the five.
Starting from a petty servant, doing his household chores, all the way up to many heads of government of Bangladesh, to everyone he was simply a model. Those in the civil service who were his colleagues, junior or senior, know what a leader he was like. Those who even came in touch with him for a brief period of time can never forget him for his extraordinarily charismatic behaviour.
Someone who was M. Mujibul Huq's colleague from the same or from a different batch of the Civil Service of Pakistan could have written much better an obituary on him than what I have tried to write here based on very little information that I have garnered. It would be a great service to the nation if someone writes more about M. Mujibul Huq's chequered life and career and his contribution to bureaucracy.
We have lost a great luminary. He is irreplaceable. At least a man like Mujibul Huq does not deserve death so early, whatever was his age. But such is life and such is death. And that is the music we have to tune with. Every death buries a man along with many memories about him that remain unknown to the world except to some of his very close friends and relations. And I was fortunate to be one of those, with whom M. Mujibul Huq shared many of his sweet memories not disclosed to all and sundry.
The writer is a retired General Manager of a state-owned bank.              [email protected]