Some cars pass through your life quietly. Others stay with you long after they’re gone.

This one arrived in 1995, brand new, painted in Honda Milano Red. I was 13 years old, already deeply obsessed with cars, and I remember having to actively convince my father that this was the car to buy. He listened, but what I didn’t expect was the surprise that followed: one afternoon, he turned up outside my school in a brand-new Honda Civic. For a kid who lived and breathed anything with wheels, it was a moment that felt unreal. That Civic didn’t just take me home that day — it lit a fuse.

That car became the foundation of my passion for motoring.

Growing up together

I learned to drive in that Civic. I learned what it meant to care for a car, to listen to it, to gradually shape it to your own tastes. Like many enthusiasts of the early internet era, I spent countless hours reading forums, absorbing opinions, and slowly piecing together my own vision. Whenever I travelled abroad, I’d hunt for parts. The most significant score came in 2001 — a set of Altezza tail lights I carried back from New York, a prized modification at the time.

That Civic wasn’t just transport. It was a classroom, a companion, and eventually, part of something bigger. Along with my friend Asad Moyeen, it played a role in inspiring the launch of drivetimedhaka.com, at a time when car culture in Bangladesh was still finding its voice.

In 2003, the Civic left our family. It was sold to a family in Sylhet, and for nearly two decades, it disappeared from my life completely.

Found again

In 2021, out of the blue, a cousin sent me photos. He’d spotted the car in Sylhet — unmistakably the same one — and it was available. The images showed a very different Civic: tired, weather-beaten, sitting unused outdoors for nearly a decade. The red had faded, rust had begun to creep in, and time had not been kind.

I didn’t hesitate.

When the car came back to our house, still registered in my late father’s name, with expired papers and years of neglect behind it, I knew instantly this wasn’t just another project. This was something personal. Something that deserved patience and respect.

A slow, considered rebuild

The goal was never to overbuild the car or modernise it beyond recognition. This was always going to be an OEM+ restoration — faithful to the original, but quietly improved where it mattered.

The car was sent to a trusted local garage, where it underwent a comprehensive mechanical and cosmetic overhaul. The engine was fully rebuilt, the suspension refreshed, the bodywork addressed properly, and the interior carefully restored. Mechanically, it came back sorted and genuinely enjoyable to drive. Later, lingering carburettor issues were resolved at MotorWerks, finally allowing the D13B to run as it should.

One of the small joys of the process came from the details. The Altezza tail lights were on the car and I’d somehow held onto the original tail lights at home for over a decade — an unexpected full-circle moment.

The original Milano Red gave way to Porsche Carmine Red, a subtle but richer shade that suits the Civic’s lines beautifully. A set of white alloy wheels was added, wrapped in fresh tyres — a nod to the JDM influence that defined so much of this car’s earlier life. The suspension was lowered by 20mm on coilovers, transforming both the stance and the way the car handles without sacrificing its character.

Inside, the car surprised all of us. Thanks to seat covers used by the previous owner, the interior fabric was remarkably well preserved. Aside from a small tear on the driver’s seat, it felt like stepping back in time.

The rebuild began in June 2021 and concluded in December 2022. Anyone who’s restored a car knows this timeline isn’t unusual — parts take time to source, funds need to be gathered, and details demand patience. Friends helped along the way: badges sourced from Bangkok, headlights tracked down on eBay. It became a shared effort, just as it had been all those years ago.

Why it still matters

This generation of Civic (EG8) was Japan Car of the Year in 1992, and for good reason. It was a global car in the truest sense — reliable, well-engineered, and endlessly engaging. Even with its humble D13B carburettor engine, the manual gearbox makes it feel lively, and the refreshed suspension brings a level of fun that reminds you why these cars earned such a following worldwide.

The final hurdle came much later. In late 2025, the paperwork was finally updated — penalties and renewal fees costing more than the restoration itself. Worth every taka.

Home again

Today, the Civic is driven sparingly. It’s not a showpiece, and it’s not chasing trends. It’s a time capsule — a car returned to the people who first loved it, now cared for with the patience and perspective that only time can give.

Restoring it wasn’t about perfection. It was about preservation. About honouring a car that shaped my childhood, my interests, and ultimately, a big part of who I became.

Some cars never really leave you.
This one just took the long way home.