Provided by Bilal's wife and fellow Imperial graduate, Batool Raza

The boy in the red tracksuit

A teenager in a red hoodie and tracksuit arrived on the South Kensington campus of Imperial College London in October 2011. He came from a place called Alum Rock in Birmingham. Little did he know that this first step into Imperial would also be the beginning of the last six years of his life. Those six years would define him as an example for others in his hometown, as someone who showed inspiring levels of determination and resilience.

Bilal Khan wasn’t your run-of-the-mill character. He was extremely grounded from his upbringing in a tight-knit, working-class family with a strong sense of community around him. He also had a special kind of charisma that was difficult to ignore when you interacted with him. His presence on campus was noticeable – he made sure of it.

How surprising it might be then for people to know that underneath this confidence was a mix of nerves and uncertainty. Bilal didn’t necessarily take his first steps into university with the giddy excitement that I did. I met him on my first day on campus as we were on the same course together, both about to embark on our degree in Biology. All I was thinking about was what social events to go to and what societies to join. For Bilal, this was a bigger step in his whole life trajectory. Even walking through South Kensington was an other-worldly experience for him. For me, it was just a tube ride away from my home in North-West London.

Going to one of the top universities in the world, Bilal was about to mingle amongst peers who were largely middle-class (including me) or privately educated, often from very wealthy families. He didn’t necessarily share the same perspectives on life and had been through very different experiences growing up. What he had experienced in school and college was worlds away from what his university classmates had grown up in. His life in Alum Rock meant exposure to crime, drug dealers, and gang violence that many of his university counterparts could only theorise. It means that if he had taken just a few steps in the wrong direction, his world could have looked completely different and certainly wouldn’t have involved gaining a university degree or creating a fulfilling and lucrative career.

Growing up in this kind of atmosphere meant that he was entering university with a different set of circumstances that didn’t give him the same social and financial capital to work with as other students. This can directly affect your experience as many of us who have the advantages of financial freedom and social networks don’t realise the position of ease it puts us in when entering different stages of our lives. The dissonance with his peers would also be obvious to Bilal but not necessarily well understood by his fellow students.

I learnt all this very quickly through my unexpected friendship with him that grew into a bond so strong that we ended up as husband and wife. He proceeded to burst my middle-class bubble permanently as I journeyed with him through our conversations and my visits to Birmingham where I walked in his shoes as he described stories from his childhood to me.

On top of stepping into a world previously unbeknownst to him, Bilal was diagnosed with a genetic heart condition called Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy in his teen years. This landed him in hospital for most of the summer between his first and second year of uni. Bilal was a huge fan of sports like boxing and was a regular weightlifter at the gym. His worsening condition meant that he couldn’t continue with these in the same way. Taking part in these sports and activities was a huge aspect of his identity, contributing to both his mental and physical health as well as his social life. At the same time as his dreams and aspirations were realized through studying at Imperial, another huge aspect of his identity – weightlifting and boxing – was forsaken at the same time due to his health condition worsening. 

Embarking on a degree in a competitive environment, stressing about deadlines and exams, keeping up a fulfilling social life, and spending time trying to get work experience and apply for jobs to set yourself up for the future is challenging for the best of us at the best of times. For those of us with the blessings of time, money, health, and comfortable circumstances, we still find ourselves in despair when these things don’t go our way. Bilal had the option of taking a year out after his time in hospital but took the decision to continue with his degree. Even though lots of factors such as his health got harder for him each year of university, he continued with determination and resilience.

Bilal was also an extremely generous character, always helping those around him and sharing small nuggets of wisdom, even at such a young age. Here are some stories from former Imperial students who came from a similar background to Bilal and interacted with him at university:

“Bilal was an incredible character of great moral fortitude and was a huge comfort and help to me during my first two years of uni. He helped me with housing decisions, careers advice and was a real confidante and mentor in every sense of the word. He provided a calm presence and sense of familiarity during those tumultuous years of my growth and played an instrumental part in the person I am today. Not only did he help me settle into university and feel like I belonged, he was also an inspiration to me as well. Some people, despite their short life, leave an incredible presence and impact and Bilal was surely one of them.” Shuaib Choudhry (MSci Physics with Theoretical Physics 2016)

“When I first met Bilal, I was in awe of his journey to Imperial. He told me he was from Alum Rock in Birmingham, which is one of the more deprived areas of the city. I knew that Bilal was a grafter – to come from his background and get into Imperial, you had to work at least twice as hard as everyone else to earn your place. Without this energy, many young people from similar backgrounds, unfortunately, get dragged down or pulled to the wayside. Bilal was one of the very few people who would try to help me out when I faced challenges during university life. One day, he asked me how my CV was looking. I told him it wasn’t great as I didn’t have much to write about. He then told me to come with him to the computer lab. I showed him my best CV and he proceeded to write me a brand new one. We sat for nearly an hour like this, Bilal redrafting the same sentence multiple times if he didn’t think it looked right. Once he thought it was as good as he could make it, he gave me advice on how I needed to get some work experience before graduating. Then, without much warning, he got out of his chair and left the room. His job was done. I did not even get the chance to say thank you. The CV that Bilal wrote for me is the same one I use to this day. I got my first job with it. How many other people in my life had given me a gift as valuable as the one Bilal gave me that day? Within university, and in life in general, I have met a large number of people who I could have a nice conversation or share a joke or two with. Bilal was different. He understood his role on this earth was a higher one than this. His knowledge, patience, attention, and focus made a tangible difference to my life, as I’m sure it did to others. My life would certainly be poorer without his presence.” Adnaan Chaudhry (MEng Civil Engineering 2016)

Despite the hardships Bilal faced, he completed his Biology degree and went on to join JP Morgan’s competitive graduate scheme, working in the heart of Canary Wharf, where many graduates aspire to start their careers. During his first year there, his mother, who he cherished deeply, sadly passed away. There is no right way to deal with someone passing away, but there was something special about Bilal’s attitude in the face of life events. A sort of pragmatism, but not without emotion or depth. His upbringing within his home community in Birmingham clearly shaped this significantly.

He went from working in Prime Brokerage in the Operations department of a respected global bank to Execution Trading, and his most recent role was in Quantitative Platform Engineering. His increasing success was impressive but unsurprising to me as his partner, knowing his intelligence and potential. He knew how significant his career trajectory was, coming from humble beginnings to suiting up in Canary Wharf and moving so fast to increasingly complex and challenging roles (only Bilal could have made the move from Biology to Tech appear so seamless). How he presented himself to the world was completely different though, with a quiet humility that would leave people not quite understanding how remarkable this man was that was sitting in front of them.

All this to say, he is an example of someone who entered university with a different understanding of life to most of us. He came from a working-class background, entered a social circle where most people didn’t ‘get’ him (including me at first), faced all these challenges and still made a success of his life and career. His career path was also an excellent example of the alternative routes you can take with a STEM degree.

Bilal sadly passed away on 27 September 2019. He was my best friend who became my husband for one year and eight months. But his story isn’t really about our relationship, his heart condition or even his death. Bilal’s is a story of a boy in a red tracksuit who took his first steps into the last six years of his life, and made those steps inspirational through his courage, charisma, and cracking a lot of bad jokes.

I wrote this because Bilal never advertised the obstacles he faced or his achievements in life. He did however regularly express his feelings about those who came from a similar background to him, and how they needed to hear from someone who could relate to them in order to really be inspired to create positive trajectories in their lives. I always told him he should become a mentor for others in his hometown because he was so inspirational. This article is just giving an insight into his approach to life from someone who was close enough to him to appreciate it. His time at Imperial contributed so much to the years that shaped him into the man that he was, and he would be proud if even one person reading this was motivated to take those first steps to achieving their goals or overcoming their obstacles like he did from the moment he stepped into Imperial.

Even though I was his wife, my words really can’t do him justice. His life was short but full to the brim with lessons that we can all learn and take heed from. If you take anything from his story, please be encouraged by his attitude and patience in his personal and professional life.

In honour of Bilal Khan, originally from Dadyal, Azad Kashmir, and raised in Alum Rock, Birmingham, 1992-2019.

Provided by his friend, George Duncan

Christie Pemberton died of unknown causes at his family’s home in Jamaica on 19 March 2020. Survived by his parents Melody and Nigel, Christie was tragically just 27 years old when he died.

Born in August 1992, Christie spent the early years of his life in Jamaica, where he attended primary school and learned to speak patois fluently. The bonds of friendship Christie established during this time were deep and lasting, and he cherished nothing more than spending time on the island with his friends, family and goddaughters.

Christie went on to study at the Charterhouse and then University College London (UCL), graduating with a first in politics in 2015. His dissertation was highly commended and its quality was all the more remarkable in light of the terrible back pain Christie endured during his final year at UCL, following an accident earlier that year – indeed, Melody remembers him typing away doggedly while lying in bed convalescing. His perseverance and focus in the face of adversity was recognised and admired by friends and academic tutors alike.

In spite of the personal challenges he faced as a result of his back injury, fellow students from UCL remember Christie as an affable and fun-loving young man with a keen sense of humour, who never failed to furnish his friends with laughter, care and support. I can remember him taking the time to explain tricky theories and concepts to friends in an interesting way ahead of exams, and cracking jokes to help calm nerves. His lecturers remember him as a diligent, outgoing and charming undergraduate, who would often wait around after lectures for the opportunity to ask detailed questions about their subject areas, or invite them to discuss certain topics over a cup of coffee.

In 2017, Christie continued his studies, enrolling on a Master’s course at Imperial Business School. He hoped to use the skills and knowledge he acquired at Imperial to establish a business in Jamaica. Although he had yet to settle on a specific venture and was still exploring his options, I got the strong impression that he was determined to use his studies to give back to and create opportunities in the country he was so fond of.

Christie was passionate about sport and could alternately be found on the tennis court, the golf course, the running track or the swimming pool – or supporting his football team, Arsenal. In Jamaica, he competed regularly in sporting events like the Montego Bay City Run, and could often be seen freediving and spearfishing with the fishermen of Hopewell, a fishing village near his home in Hanover Parish. In the UK, he used half-marathons as an opportunity to raise money for the charity Combat Stress, and at the time of his death was training for a triathlon he planned to participate in with his uncle and cousin. 

On a personal level, Christie was an invaluable friend to me. He was always there to listen and offer support during difficult times, and to laugh and celebrate with me in good times. His absence will forever be sorely felt, by myself and many others.