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Sheikh Kamal knew that there is no shortcut to success. He groomed himself up as a young man who earned success by dint of perseverance and commitment. When the Pakistan military began its genocide in Bangladesh, he joined the Liberation War and received military training at Camp Murtee located at the Himalayan foothills in India. The tall young man who carried himself with dignity and possessed remarkable traits of leadership became the ADC of General Ataul Goni, Osmani, the Commander in Chief of Bangladesh Armed Forces during the Liberation War. After Independence, Sheikh Kamal could, easily remain in Bangladesh Army and pass a secure life but he preferred to engage himself in country building and organizing the young forces to that end, Journalist Syed Ishtiaq Rezi in one of his columns 'Ekjon Sheikh Kamal' in Bangla Tribune rightly says that the unique qualities of Sheikh Kamal's character, especially his wholehearted involvement in sports and culture are never seen in any son or daughter of any President, Prime Minister or High Officials in Bangladesh.

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The orphanage is high in the Carolina mountains. I was there in the autumn. T wanted quiet, isolation, to do some troublesome writing. I wanted mountain air to blow out the Malaria from too long, a time in the subtropics. I was home-sick too, for the flaming of Maples in October, and for corn shocks and pumpkins and black-walnut trees - ... I found them all living in a cabin that belonged to the orphanage, half a mile beyond the orphanage farm. When I took the cabin, $i$ asked for a boy or man to come and chop wood for the fireplace ....... I looked up from my typewriter one late afternoon, a little startied. A boy stood at the door and my pointer dog. my companion, was at his side and had not barked to warn me. The boy was probably twelve years old, but under sized. He wore overalls and a torn shirt, and was barefooted. He said, "I can chop some wood today."

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My name is Amerigo. I am 13 years old and I live on the street alone. My mother, who is separated from my father, doesn't want me. She told me to go away Now she is married to another man. My father lives very far away. I want to go to him, but he won't take me either. I begged him to send me some money so that I could buy a bus ticket. I am still waiting. He has not answered: The streets are now my home. Sometimes I find work. I used to collect trash and sell it to a vendor. I stopped doing that after I had a serious infection and a doctor told me to stay away from the trash dump. Once I worked for an ice-cream shop owner and sold ice-cream on the beach. But I got no money in return. The owner of the shop gave me something to eat, and let me sleep in his hut at night. The work was difficult and painful. The ice-cream box is quite heavy when it is full. I had to walk for hours, offering my ice-cream to whoever wanted to buy.. There were days when I could not even sell one ice-cream. In a way, I am lucky because I am alive. My friends who work sorting rubbish in dumps often suffer from serious diseases. One of them was recently killed after he fell into a hole that opened up in the pile of trash. Many of us work for 10 to 12 hours, and get so little in return that we can't even buy food.