As a UNESCO fellow he completed the Advanced Level Annual Program on Education Planning and Administration from the International Institute of Education Planning Paris in 1989. He received In-service Training on Law, education, administration both in home and abroad. Besides, he has command on Peoples' Education System and Planning long life Education, bilingual Education and disaster management which he gathered in Estonia, Russia and Japan. He has the experience of study visit of UK, France, Russia, Estonia Republic, Saudi Arabia, India, United Arab Emirates and Singapore. Apart from his service carrier he is a poet and composed a poetic verses in bilingual form Bengali and English under the caption 'Shower of Light '. Besides mother tongue Bengali he has excellent command on English & French. Also he understands and speaks Hindi, Urdu and Arabic. Mr. Rafiqul Mohamed is married with Ferdous Ara Begum, a noteworthy artist on Nazrul Giti. He has two children.
[February 2007:The time passes but History Never Repeats. It is now 4 years passed that I interviewed this civil administrator. This person has misused the power of the office of Deputy Commissioner in favour of Tarique Rahman. There are hundreds of evidences that he instrumented and legalised the massive corruption of Tarique,] Editor BograInfoPortal

Rafiqul Mohamed About his Book

When I was working as an Upazila Nirbahi Officer in 1991, colossal damage to lives and properties were wrought by the devastating tidal bore across Chittagong and Cox's Bazar. I expressed my willingness to work for the relief and rehabilitation of the affected area. I was sent to Cox's Bazar, in some islands unions under Kutubdia, nearly 50% of the population had died. Burials of the dead and the subsequent relief operations continued for three months When I returned to my station after the harrowing experience in the cyclone-devastated areas. I felt like I was stepping out of a nightmare. But, I also felt a change coming inside me, and I took to writing in an unstructured manner. In this way, these conversational elements were tamed to the shape of poetic versions.

I went back to the river of my childhood, Shitalakkha and walked along its banks near where my father's grave lies, with my School on the left. My poetic series continued, as I wrote, I still heard the cries of the babies. The grief-stricken faces of mothers and brothers also came to my mind. In this wretched country, the depth and heaviness of anguish find their best expression in the words of a poet. In my case,it is my own poem.