Once upon a time in Bangladesh
Story of Rohingyas is a tale that is not easy to narrate; it echoes horrors of rape, extreme violence and murder
The writer holds a degree in English and anthropology from the University of Toronto. Since 2015, she has been involved with humanitarian assistance and relief work
The story of the Rohingyas is a tale that is not easy to narrate, as it echoes horrors of rape, extreme violence and murder. Being a minority living in Myanmar, they have been a victim of ethnic cleansing in the most horrific manner, causing many to flee to neighbouring Bangladesh. After they cross the border with great difficulty, they are put up in makeshift camps, with tents made of mainly bamboo and tarp. The future of the Rohingyas is now unknown, and their only job now is to sit in limbo.
Feeling helpless whilst watching the situation on the news, my husband and I decide it is time to take the initiative and do what little we can to help. We have previously done aid work with the Syrian refugees in Greece, and we both decide that Bangladesh is where we need to go next. Getting our foot in, however, is a Herculean task, as all our contacts lead to a dead end.
However, we decide to tag along with an old friend Todd Shea of CDRS who was en route to Bangladesh. With the help of private donors from both Pakistan and overseas we manage to collect funds, and make our way to Cox’s Bazaar -- the main hub for the Rohingya refugees. With over 800,000 people now, the camps are full to the brim, but the people keep coming. Shea tells us we are going to work with OBAT, a nonprofit that already has existing projects in Bangladesh, its aim being to empower communities through education, health and water sanitation.
When we finally make our way to the camp in Kutupalong, we have no idea what to expect. It is a bumpy one-hour drive from Cox’s Bazaar, and roads precarious, as we pass an overturned truck full of aid on the way. Even though we are given fair warning, the sheer magnitude of the place is jaw dropping. You can see tents made of bamboo as far as the eye can see. People are walking alongside the uneven roads, with little children carrying bundles of bamboo in their hands, taking it to build more homes in the already overcrowded camp. The people look at you with blank expressions, as though they are shell-shocked by what they have had been made to go through. Just to absorb the surroundings takes a minute, but we quickly acclimatise ourselves and get to work. Immad Ahmed, executive director of OBAT, and Zobair H Khandaker gives us a tour of the camp, and show us the projects they are working on.
As we walk, we come across a boy whose father has been shot. “He was gunned down by the military,” one man says. A flock of children accompany us where we go, hoping that we have brought some relief with us. We come across many heart-wrenching stories during our trip, each one holds its own tale of horrors. We are taken to meet a gentleman who is paralysed from the waist down, and when we inquire what happened, he tells us, “I was beaten by the military junta. They hit me so hard that I am now unable to walk.” I then go on to inquire about his family, “They are okay,” he says and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Then he continues, “One boy got slaughtered by the military.” And my heart sinks once again. OBAT sets up medical camps, and we go to offer our assistance. A young girl, Maimuna, sits and waits for her turn. She is screaming in agony as she tells her story. “There were gunshots so I ran. Since the men were chasing me, I fell off the mountain.” The doctors realise she has broken her hip, and is immediately shifted to a hospital for aid.
Zaid Hamoodi, a young trauma surgeon from the UK, has also taken time off from work and come to volunteer with OBAT. When we reach the camp, he is quickly called to visit a pregnant lady who is about to give birth. “I am afraid her baby may not make it,” he explains with a heavy heart. This is not the first time Zaid has witnessed this, as a few days prior to that he tells us that a lady started to frantically gesture towards them as they were getting ready to leave the camp. He quickly realised her daughter was about to give birth and the baby was born a few minutes later. “I fear to think what would have happened if we had not been there.” There are many pregnant ladies and newborn babies at the camp, where conditions are less than ideal.
As the doctors do their job, a swarm of children gather around me, fascinated by my phone. It is amazing how much joy a downloaded episode of Paw Patrol can bring to these tiny humans. That escape provided while watching a cartoon is much needed, and staring at the tiny screen makes them forget where they are for a moment, and the joy it brings is priceless. A gentleman comes up to me, and to my surprise he starts talking to me in fluent English. “I just want a job, I am not asking for handouts,” he tells me in despair. He used to be a trader in Myanmar, but his entire village has been burnt to the ground. “I lost everything. I am here with my family, and I literally have nothing left.” I want to hug him, tell him it will all be all right, but we really do not know what his future will hold.
With the rest of the time we have, we spend buying medical supplies with Zaid. The aim is to set up a fully functioning medical camp, so that emergency aid can be provided when needed. Amongst other things, we get medicines, a Doppler, an ECG machine and a generator. Since the children will be there long term, OBAT wants to set up schools all throughout the camp. As part of our own humble contribution, we manage to secure land and construction material for 10 schools, and proceed to buy supplies such as teaching material, toys and mats to sustain them. A few weeks later, we get pictures from the team on the ground, and thankfully it seems that the first few schools are already under way.
Leaving a place you go to for aid work is always difficult, as there is never such a thing as enough help, because more is always needed. With close to a million people fleeing Myanmar in fear of persecution, the Rohingyas that make it across the border are lucky to be alive. The scars, however, that they bring with them are fresh and run very deep.
Trying to hold on to whatever semblance of life they have left, they try to make a home in a foreign land with whatever hand of cards fate has dealt to them. The crisis is catastrophic, and it will take nothing short of a miracle to resolve it. In the meantime, there are people like Immad and Zaid, who dedicate their time and effort to help the less fortunate. All heroes do not wear capes, and the worst of humanity really does bring out the best in it as well. There is another trip planned for Cox’s Bazaar in January, as we will go to follow up on our projects, and try to help a little more.
Published in The Express Tribune, November 30th, 2017.
Feeling helpless whilst watching the situation on the news, my husband and I decide it is time to take the initiative and do what little we can to help. We have previously done aid work with the Syrian refugees in Greece, and we both decide that Bangladesh is where we need to go next. Getting our foot in, however, is a Herculean task, as all our contacts lead to a dead end.
However, we decide to tag along with an old friend Todd Shea of CDRS who was en route to Bangladesh. With the help of private donors from both Pakistan and overseas we manage to collect funds, and make our way to Cox’s Bazaar -- the main hub for the Rohingya refugees. With over 800,000 people now, the camps are full to the brim, but the people keep coming. Shea tells us we are going to work with OBAT, a nonprofit that already has existing projects in Bangladesh, its aim being to empower communities through education, health and water sanitation.
When we finally make our way to the camp in Kutupalong, we have no idea what to expect. It is a bumpy one-hour drive from Cox’s Bazaar, and roads precarious, as we pass an overturned truck full of aid on the way. Even though we are given fair warning, the sheer magnitude of the place is jaw dropping. You can see tents made of bamboo as far as the eye can see. People are walking alongside the uneven roads, with little children carrying bundles of bamboo in their hands, taking it to build more homes in the already overcrowded camp. The people look at you with blank expressions, as though they are shell-shocked by what they have had been made to go through. Just to absorb the surroundings takes a minute, but we quickly acclimatise ourselves and get to work. Immad Ahmed, executive director of OBAT, and Zobair H Khandaker gives us a tour of the camp, and show us the projects they are working on.
As we walk, we come across a boy whose father has been shot. “He was gunned down by the military,” one man says. A flock of children accompany us where we go, hoping that we have brought some relief with us. We come across many heart-wrenching stories during our trip, each one holds its own tale of horrors. We are taken to meet a gentleman who is paralysed from the waist down, and when we inquire what happened, he tells us, “I was beaten by the military junta. They hit me so hard that I am now unable to walk.” I then go on to inquire about his family, “They are okay,” he says and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Then he continues, “One boy got slaughtered by the military.” And my heart sinks once again. OBAT sets up medical camps, and we go to offer our assistance. A young girl, Maimuna, sits and waits for her turn. She is screaming in agony as she tells her story. “There were gunshots so I ran. Since the men were chasing me, I fell off the mountain.” The doctors realise she has broken her hip, and is immediately shifted to a hospital for aid.
Zaid Hamoodi, a young trauma surgeon from the UK, has also taken time off from work and come to volunteer with OBAT. When we reach the camp, he is quickly called to visit a pregnant lady who is about to give birth. “I am afraid her baby may not make it,” he explains with a heavy heart. This is not the first time Zaid has witnessed this, as a few days prior to that he tells us that a lady started to frantically gesture towards them as they were getting ready to leave the camp. He quickly realised her daughter was about to give birth and the baby was born a few minutes later. “I fear to think what would have happened if we had not been there.” There are many pregnant ladies and newborn babies at the camp, where conditions are less than ideal.
As the doctors do their job, a swarm of children gather around me, fascinated by my phone. It is amazing how much joy a downloaded episode of Paw Patrol can bring to these tiny humans. That escape provided while watching a cartoon is much needed, and staring at the tiny screen makes them forget where they are for a moment, and the joy it brings is priceless. A gentleman comes up to me, and to my surprise he starts talking to me in fluent English. “I just want a job, I am not asking for handouts,” he tells me in despair. He used to be a trader in Myanmar, but his entire village has been burnt to the ground. “I lost everything. I am here with my family, and I literally have nothing left.” I want to hug him, tell him it will all be all right, but we really do not know what his future will hold.
With the rest of the time we have, we spend buying medical supplies with Zaid. The aim is to set up a fully functioning medical camp, so that emergency aid can be provided when needed. Amongst other things, we get medicines, a Doppler, an ECG machine and a generator. Since the children will be there long term, OBAT wants to set up schools all throughout the camp. As part of our own humble contribution, we manage to secure land and construction material for 10 schools, and proceed to buy supplies such as teaching material, toys and mats to sustain them. A few weeks later, we get pictures from the team on the ground, and thankfully it seems that the first few schools are already under way.
Leaving a place you go to for aid work is always difficult, as there is never such a thing as enough help, because more is always needed. With close to a million people fleeing Myanmar in fear of persecution, the Rohingyas that make it across the border are lucky to be alive. The scars, however, that they bring with them are fresh and run very deep.
Trying to hold on to whatever semblance of life they have left, they try to make a home in a foreign land with whatever hand of cards fate has dealt to them. The crisis is catastrophic, and it will take nothing short of a miracle to resolve it. In the meantime, there are people like Immad and Zaid, who dedicate their time and effort to help the less fortunate. All heroes do not wear capes, and the worst of humanity really does bring out the best in it as well. There is another trip planned for Cox’s Bazaar in January, as we will go to follow up on our projects, and try to help a little more.
Published in The Express Tribune, November 30th, 2017.