Last month Hamidullah Qadri did much more than become the first person born in the 21st century to play county cricket when, at the age of 16, he was picked for Derbyshire against Glamorgan. Qadri did much more than inspire Derbyshire to their first four-day victory in two years when, as an off-spinner, he opened the bowling in the final innings of a match which ended as he took his fifth wicket amid excitement and joy. He did much more than explain why Iain O’Brien, who played 22 Tests for New Zealand, calls him The Magician.
Qadri did something truly magical as he built a bridge of hope and relief stretching from Afghanistan to Britain, from Kandahar to Derbyshire. The pain of a family broken up in Afghanistan before being reunited as refugees nine years later, could finally begin to heal. The hurt of not being held by his father for nine years, with only the jittery images of a face and an echoing voice on Skype to confirm the existence of his dad, ebbed further away.
Most of all, the trauma endured by his mother could ease as her tears of happiness fell. She could hardly believe her youngest son, who had discovered cricket in England while watching spinners such as Saeed Ajmal and Saqlain Mushtaq on YouTube, had achieved such success after beginning to play the game only six years ago. Yet, as Qadri says on an afternoon of sunshine and cloud in Derby, he could make his debut and “there was no fear whatsoever. It felt like I had already played 50-odd first-class games. I backed my skills and just bowled.”
Such composure is remarkable, even beyond the fearless innocence of youth, but it becomes more understandable the longer Qadri talks. After he has described the accuracy of his bowling, which resulted in him being selected for the England Under-19 squad to play India, Qadri uncovers how a story of loss and upheaval shaped him.
“The Glamorgan game was live on TV so my family watched every ball I bowled. The way it turned out meant so much to them. We’ve all had ups and downs but my mum more than anyone. She’s got an illness. She’s got broken discs in the back, she suffers from diabetes, depression and anxiety. My mother’s depression and anxiety maybe is a result of the painful journey she’s had. She suffered and for me to give hope back to the family is very special. It makes everything we’ve been through seem worth it.
“When I got home she was very emotional with tears of happiness in her eyes. It felt really good. My dad left Kandahar [alone for England in the hope of finding work and a new start for his family away from the conflict in Afghanistan] in 2001 when I was only one. My mum kept looking after us. I have one brother, two sisters and I’m the youngest.”
Qadri looks hurt when I ask how many years passed before he met his dad again. “I didn’t see him until I was 10 actually. We only saw him on Skype. I definitely felt the pain of my father’s absence. Seeing my cousins getting love from their parents and me and my siblings being deprived of my father’s love …”
He shakes his head. “It felt bad not being able to see your dad in a live manner. I managed to develop a bit of a bond with him on Skype. He was always talking to us, especially myself. We have a very close relationship. And then, in 2010, he could come back to Afghanistan for the first time [before bringing the entire family to the UK].
“I was crying but the whole family was so happy to see him. He was what I expected, after seeing him every other day on Skype, but it was different live. And it was definitely an important moment to be held by my father. You felt that power of being with someone – and how very good it is.”
As a small boy living in a city first bombed by US forces when he was one, as the American military tried to break the Taliban and al-Qaida, did he worry his family would always be separated? “No, even if my dad had a very bad patch in work. We always thought we’re going to get back on our feet. Sometimes he worked two jobs, doing long hours. Being away from the family hurt him, so my mum had to be strong. She’s like another sister, another brother and another father for us. She’s always our No1.”
After this adversity a county debut, even at such a young age, could be faced with equanimity. “I was 99% sure I wasn’t going to play,” Qadri says, “but an hour and a half before the game my captain, Billy Godleman, said the wicket would suit my bowling. I was excited. I had a bowl in the nets for a good half-hour and I was ready.
“The Glamorgan guys made a special welcome because I was young. When I came out to bat at No11, facing quick bowlers, some of their guys said: ‘Just enjoy it.’ They were really nice. I scored 11 and hit two boundaries.”
A smile lights up Qadri’s face before he grows more serious when I mention his bowling in Glamorgan’s first innings where he conceded only 16 runs in 15 overs and picked up his first wicket. “That was one of the best bits of bowling to be honest, so consistent, no fear. I’ve always been like this. I’m a calm person and in terms of accuracy that first spell was spot-on. It was exactly what was required in that situation from a finger spinner.”
Qadri also had to bowl for the first time with a pink ball in the new day-night format. “The pink ball is definitely lighter, with more bounce and drift in the air. But I didn’t get as much turn or purchase as I would with the red ball.”
Derbyshire asked Qadri to open the bowling in the crucial final innings – such was their confidence in him. “I was bowling to Jacques Rudolph [who played 48 Tests for South Africa] but when I got out Colin Ingram [another South African with 40 international appearances] one of our guys, Tony Palladino, said: ‘Do you know who that is?’ I said: ‘I’ve got no idea.’ All the guys laughed and said: ‘He’s a huge batter.’ I only got nervous as we got closer to winning. But the boys were so happy to win that the sweetest moment was definitely the final wicket.”
He did well again in his second county match, against Durham, and secured the prized wicket of Paul Collingwood [who played 300 internationals for England]. “We knew if we got him out early we would have a strong chance. I rarely celebrate wickets but that day I really celebrated with passion.”
The day before the interview I called O’Brien – who, apart from his Test career with New Zealand, played for Leicestershire and Middlesex. Six years ago, at the age of 35, O’Brien ended up playing for Alvaston & Boulton in the Derbyshire Premier League. He was astonished by a 12-year-old team-mate.
“I’ve been waiting for this day,” O’Brien says. “It’s a beautiful story. Here was this kid, a little freak and magician, who rocked up at training and left me open-mouthed. He was 12 years old and bowling offies and doosras. It was brilliant. Then I heard he’d learnt how to bowl by watching Ajmal and Mushtaq on YouTube.”
Qadri confirms that: “I discovered cricket on YouTube in England. In Kandahar it was almost 100% football. The first time I really played cricket was in England. We’ve got Afghan relatives here and we went to the park. That’s the first time I saw the hard ball and it was surprising and exciting. I bowled fast for a week and had a back injury. My mum told me: ‘You can’t bowl anymore, you have to come up with something else.’ The only thing I came up with was spin. I watched YouTube videos of Ajmal, Mushtaq, Graeme Swann and worked on it in the park.
“Iain helped so much. He knew Ajmal was the guy I watched the most so he arranged for me to do a net session with him. I was only 13 and Ajmal was the No1 bowler in the world then but he was really nice to me.”
As O’Brien explains, “There was a little problem with Hami’s action because he watched so much of Ajmal on YouTube. Ajmal had some issues with his action and was banned for a while [in 2014]. But Hami was so young we just wanted him to get stronger and he adjusted his action naturally.”
Was O’Brien surprised by Qadri’s sensational county debut? “I was ecstatic but not surprised. If anything I expected it to happen earlier. I’m not someone who pumps up cricketers easily but this kid is incredible. I never saw him flustered. He has no fear. He’s just a kid who loves cricket. He’d go to the nets before and after school and work so hard on his own. Add that to his talent and it’s obvious why we called him The Magician.”
Qadri laughs. “That was the name Iain gave me and it meant a lot. He was a Test cricketer and always helped me, especially off the field where he shared his experience and taught me discipline. We had a close relationship.”
That friendship took a surreal turn earlier this year when O’Brien, now working as a supply teacher, ended up in front of a class who included The Magician. “He’s a very bright kid,” O’Brien says of Qadri – with the teenager confirming “I finished my GCSEs two weeks before Glamorgan. I’m going on to sixth form and I’m looking to do a degree because, obviously, life is not just about cricket. Education gives you the knowledge to look at the world from a different perspective so I enjoy my studies.”
Qadri pauses when I ask which memories of Kandahar stand out most vividly. “There are a lot of memories. Obviously I’m not seeing bad memories as I try not to remember much of that. I also went to a private school and we lived in a safe area. My mum was trying to protect us from what was going on outside.”
Was he aware people were being killed every day beyond the safe walls of his home and school? “Yeah, definitely, but I never saw the Taliban when I was in Kandahar. My sisters went to school [in direct contravention of the Taliban in other parts of Afghanistan and Pakistan] as my father was so keen on our education. England gave me the freedom to go out with my friends and enjoy myself but I definitely missed the sunshine of home.”
Qadri’s ambition is to play for England rather than Afghanistan, who have just been granted Test status. “Definitely. I’ve been living here almost half my life and England has given me so much. The goal for every cricketer is to play Test cricket and so when I was picked for England Under-19s it was one of the sweetest moments for my family and myself.
“I’m always thinking where I was 10 or five years ago. Even last year I was playing club and age-group cricket. This year I was hoping for a few second-team games for Derbyshire. I got those games, performed, got my two-year professional contract. Got my first-class debut. Got my first five-fer. England call-up next. It’s been fairly good lately.”
From war in Afghanistan to a refugee’s life in England, from Kandahar to Derby, with the pain of a divided family being redeemed by the success of the youngest son who learnt how to play a strange game through YouTube, Hamid Qadri might have stepped out of a 21st century film script. The Magician looks at me and smiles. “Yeah,” he says, “it’s a bit like a movie. I’ve thought that as well.”
