Nathoo Premjee

Brief Profile

In the long, wind-swept corridors of Khoja history, a few lives feel larger than the page. They do not merely “succeed.” They move—across oceans, across empires, across the limits that others accept as fate.

Nathoo Premjee was one of those lives.

I encountered his name not in an archive, but through a human moment—by pure serendipity—when I met his grandson, Riazbhai Premjee, at the Khoja Heritage Day Live Stream in Karachi on October 26. As he spoke, I could sense it: this was not just family pride. This was the echo of an era when courage sailed in wooden hulls and opportunity smelled like salt air and risk. Born in 1865 in Draffa, Gujarat, Nathoo’s story begins in a small agricultural village—far from the bustle of ports, and far from the comfort of inherited advantage. But history often starts quietly. And then one day, it refuses to stay quiet.

Early Life: When Loss Became Fuel

At sixteen, Nathoo lost his father. Overnight, youth ended. Responsibility arrived without knocking.

Yet rather than shrinking under the weight, he did something rare: he moved toward change. Dissatisfied with the limits of village life, he persuaded his mother to leave Draffa and relocate to Porbandar, a port city with wider horizons. It was a decisive act—one that signaled a temperament we see in pioneers: when the world narrows, they widen the map.

In Porbandar, Nathoo caught the attention of Nassor Noor Mohammed, a prominent Khoja businessman from Zanzibar. Nathoo was taken under his wing, and by twenty, he had risen to manage operations in Bombay, that roaring engine of Indian Ocean commerce. Soon after, he was entrusted with opening a branch in Nosy Be—a sign not only of ability, but of trust.

And then came the moment every builder recognizes: the decision to step out from under a mentor’s shadow and build something that carries your own name.

In 1895, Nathoo founded Premjee & Fils in Madagascar.

Not a shop. Not a side venture. A serious enterprise—designed to endure.

Trade, Migration, and the Indian Ocean Highway

Nathoo became a vital figure in Madagascar—not only as a merchant and shipping agent, but as a facilitator of movement. His dhows carried goods, yes. But they also carried people—Gujarati families seeking livelihood, stability, and a new beginning.

He recruited skilled laborers from India and supplied manpower for French colonial projects that shaped Madagascar’s infrastructure. Roads. Railways. Ports. The practical skeleton of modern development. Yet behind the “projects” were human lives—men and families crossing seas with hope in their pockets and uncertainty in their throat.

He was paid in silver coins, currency acceptable to Indian laborers—an old-world detail that tells you everything: this was a world where trade had to speak the language of trust.

And Nathoo didn’t merely “send ships.” He led voyages himself, often commanding dhows through unpredictable waters. The Indian Ocean is beautiful, but it is not sentimental. It rewards preparation, nerve, and patience—and it humbles anyone who confuses confidence with competence.

His trade routes became living arteries between two worlds: Indian spices and ghee traveling outward; sandalwood and ivory returning; and with every exchange, culture and memory moving alongside commerce.

This was not just business.

It was history in motion.

Wealth With Roots: The Philanthropic and Religious Pioneer

Success did not detach Nathoo from his origins. If anything, it sharpened his sense of obligation.

In Majunga, Madagascar, he helped build a mosque and an Imambara, working with other prominent community figures to establish religious spaces that anchored Khoja Shia Ithna Ashari life. These were not mere buildings. They were declarations: we are here, and we will remain a community—not just a workforce.

Back in Draffa, he financed the establishment of a hospital to provide free medical care to the poor. A village boy who left home did not forget home. He returned with something more valuable than money: the instinct to turn success into service.

And in a world that often builds walls around charity—“mine,” “yours,” “ours”—Nathoo’s compassion crossed boundaries. That is why such figures earn respect beyond their own community. People recognize the difference between generosity that performs and generosity that heals.

Education: Building the Future on Purpose

In 1912, Nathoo returned to India with a vision rooted in education and identity.

He built a large home and an adjacent school—the first in the area to offer bilingual education in English and Gujarati, alongside religious studies. That detail matters. It signals a mind that understood the future was not a choice between tradition and modernity. The future was the ability to carry both—without shame.

He wanted children to be at ease in the world without being lost in it.

A rare balance. A difficult one. A necessary one.