Ananta vs Barsha 8
6o of connotations 17
FRIDAY MAY 3 2013
vol 1 Issu e 3
A Shahbag Protester 24
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CONTENTS
A Weekly Pro ducti o n o f
Vo lume 1, Issu e 3 M AY 3, 2 0 13
6 FEATURE Savar tragedy
Acting Editor Zafar Sobhan Magazine Editor Faruq Hasan Weekend Tribune Team Fahim Razzaq Sumaiya Shams Faisal Mahmud Tamoha Binte Siddiqui Sheikh Mohammed Irfan Yusuf Banna Photography Syed Latif Hossain Cartoonist Syed Rashad Imam Tanmoy Contributors Naheed Kamal MAB Siddique Muktasree Chakma Sathi Ikhtisad Ahmed Rifat Islam Esha Bassema Karaki Phil Humphreys Fazle Rabbi Design Asmaul Haque Mamun Mohammed Mahbub Alam Production Masum Billah Email: info@dhakatribune.com Web: www.dhakatribune.com
26 CULTURE VULTURE Bangla calligraphy
27 OBITUARY The man who cheated death
2 This Week 4 Whose Line Is It Anyway? The “expert” opinion 5 Big Mouth Strikes Again Warning: Do not read if you are easily offended 8 Post-Riposte Hridoy bhanga divorce 9 Top 10 Waiting to be served! 10 Thought Plot Establishing labour rights 12 Photo Story Cries from the valley of death 17 6° of connotations Lack of respect for a little known culture 18 Real Politik The road to Hefazat-e-Islam 19 Interview A poet’s perspective 20 Game On Pride without the fall 21 Stranger in a Strange Land Brides for sale 22 Tough Love 23 Backbenchers’ Club 24 Day in the Life of A Shahbag protester 25 The Way Dhaka Was Ruposhi Bangla Hotel 28 Last Word
EDITOR’S NOTE
Of losses and achievements N
othing brings a nation together like a disaster, or so the adage goes. Bangladesh, of course, bucks the trend: every tragedy seems to tear the nation asunder. Savar follows a similar pattern. Different factions have emerged, each blaming one another. Vested interest groups try to take advantage over the confusion and prey on the weak. The centre, in this case the government, does not hold, and things fall apart, quite literally. But other clichés apply too. Tragedies also bring out the best in a small group of people. Our reporter Faisal Mahmud writes about the heroism and sacrifice from everyday citizens who rushed to help. The irony does not escape us: the Savar tragedy occurred a week before May Day, a month that is supposed to be sacrosanct for workers throughout the world. MAB Siddique outlines how the rubble of Rana Plaza is a slap across the face of all working to establish labour rights in Bangladesh. Elsewhere, Phil Humphreys compares his experiences of being in both the Bangladesh Games in Dhaka and the Olympics in London, Muktasree Chakma Sathi writes how we still have a long way to go till minority women are treated without discrimination, and I relive my trauma after having to shift from my place of work. It has been one of the longest weeks in recent history. Here’s hoping a new month leads to better tidings. W E E K E N D TR IBUN E FR I DAY, May 3 , 20 1 3
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THIS WEEK IN INTERNATIONAL REUTERS/Soe Zeya Tu
Political prisoner Kyaw Zin Min talks to reporters after his release in front of Insein prison in Yangon on April 23. Myanmar’s president announced an amnesty on Tuesday for about 100 prisoners, a senior official said, 56 of whom were confirmed as political detainees by a group monitoring activists held in the country’s jails. REUTERS/Suhaib Salem
Palestinian boys watch a scene simulating clashes between Palestinian stone-throwers and Israeli soldiers, in solidarity with Palestinian prisoners held in Israeli jails, in Gaza City on April 14.
Venezuela’s President Nicolas Maduro (L) speaks with Cuba’s President Raul Castro during their meeting in Havana, in this picture provided by Miraflores Palace April 27, 2013. Maduro is on an official visit to Cuba.
REUTERS/David W Cerny
Firefighters search the area after an explosion in Prague on April 29. The explosion in central Prague on Monday injured about a dozen people and others were trapped in a building damaged by the blast, a Reuters witness and emergency services officials said. W E E K E N D TRIBUNE F R I DAY, M AY 3, 201 3
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NATIONAL 1. A survivor expresses his joy and gratitude as he is rescued from under the rubbles of Rana Plaza at Savar where hundreds of RMG workers, including many others were killed and still missing. Nashirul Islam/Dhaka Tribune
2. Advocate Abdul Hamid takes the position as the President of the People’s Republic of Bangladesh on April 25.
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3. Sohel Rana, the owner of Rana Plaza and an RMG factory arrested. Syed Zakir Hossain/Dhaka Tribune
4. A relative waits, in the grounds of Rana Plaza, searching for his missing near and dear ones. 5. On the fourth day of the collapse, fire service and civil defence deploys heavy equipment to clear the rubbles and rescue those who are still trapped inside. 6. 8th Bangladesh Games closes on April 28. Nashirul Islam/Dhaka Tribune
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whose line is it anyway?
The “expert” opinion “So-called hartal supporters went to the place [Rana Plaza] and tried to shut the factories [in the building] down. There was already a pillar that had almost collapsed. These people banged on this pillar and the adjacent collapsible gate. The whole building came crushing down perhaps due to this banging that caused one part to collapse completely.” Home Minister MK Alamgir
“Sa v gov ar tr do ernmaged po ing t ent y is t l for itical o fulfi ’s ow he to ced t agen l the n g a ri o to he lab da. T ir s on ky work our he ly t en in ers v o cal spoi ironm such led l th en BN P s MK hart e BN t tan An a Pdin war l.” gc om
mi
tte
e
“Savar tragedy is a humanitarian disaster. At this time, the government and the opposition leaders should band together to help these people, not give unwelcome statements.” Obaidul Quader Communication Minister
Mohammad Nasim Former Awami League leader
W E E K E N D TRIBUNE F R I DAY, M AY 3, 201 3
Cartoons:Tanmoy/Dhaka Tribune
“Ministers with significant position in the government are making unwelcome comments about the tragedy, putting the government in a more awkward situation.”
Big Mouth strikes again
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Naheed Kamal
Warning: Do not read if you are easily offended It is important to choose our battles and our friends, imaginary or otherwise
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et’s get one thing out of the way first, I don’t believe in god. I am an atheist. Not an agnostic, not confused, not mislead or lost. I simply do not believe in any religion, dogma or prophet. But I know the force is strong in me, and it is the same force that propels the universe. Now don’t jump to conclusions. I don’t have a problem with religion or religious people or people who believe in religions. But I do know for a fact that many, if not most religious people, have lots of issues with people like me. How do I know this? Because I have often been at the receiving end of over-exuberant proselytisers’ fanatical efforts to “turn me back” from my non-believing, errant ways. Lately, there are anonymous callers and veiled threats. Friends tell me I ought to keep my big mouth shut. Now, until the nation’s attention was drawn to these “atheist bloggers,” I was keeping calm and carrying on, mouthing off as I always do ... So, what do I believe in, is a question I am asked often. I believe in freedom and human dignity, in mutual self-respect and knowledge, in differences and acceptance. We are all entitled to our opinions, and we are free to express them; they can be and often are different from those held by others. We should be free to practise, or not, any religion, if we want to, or not if we don’t. It is, whether we like it or not, a life choice, not mandatory and
Your belief doesn’t automatically make all others null and void; its existence does not mean the other (whatever it may be) is out to destroy your beliefs. You don’t have the right to attack anything or anyone because it is different. You do not have the right to kill someone because you do not agree with their point of view or they yours certainly not required for life to have meaning. There are no legal requirements for anyone to believe in any deity or idea or dogma (the ones in “holy books” don’t count). Most people practise a religion in
some form or other. Some are more devout, others less; some practise for social reasons, many find strength in being part of a herd, while others find comfort in rituals; most use it for their own selfish end, while many more use it to control others, and so many fall under the stick of fear, wielded by persons claiming to speak on behalf of a god. Then there are people like myself, atheists. We don’t care for such shallow social constructs. Does being “godless” mean I am evil? I find I have actually become more open and accepting, far more understanding then I could be if I was guided by the tenets of various religions. I understand that not everyone is of the same opinion, and that’s fine. Because you can hold on to your beliefs and I can get on with my life. I don’t need you to agree; just accept they are mine, and that I respect your views but I don’t agree with them. We can agree to disagree! No? We can’t? I must believe in what you hold as sacred, holy, and infallible? Are they? Says who? Who’s to say you are right, and I am wrong? For all I know, I know nothing. But you are convinced you know for sure … There is nothing more tiresome then a conversation with someone desperate for affirmation. The conversation, if you can call it that, goes something like this: “You don’t pray/ fast? Why not, don’t you believe in God/Allah? Why not? How can you not? Where do humans come from then, surely you know He made us? What about the prophet? Are you Christian? So you believe in some god, don’t you? Even atheists must believe in something? Why not? You don’t believe in Allah but you believe in a greater force? What is it called? Who made us? Who made the Universe? You MUST believe. You are confused. You must pray to Him? I will pray for you. Why not? What do you mean you don’t believe in anything? You must, you have to, how can you not believe? What about the Koran? It is the word of God, of course it is. Everything happens because He ordained it ... what is the Universe if not God? What
do you believe in then? Where does everything come from? It is God, of course! The Force? What do you mean by the force, you mean God? What did you say; if god existed it would be a she, a goddess? There see, I knew you believed all along. God is what you call a goddess. Everything is God! How do I know? I know, because the holy book says so, it can’t be a lie, it is God’s words written down …” If such an exchange is not reason enough to abandon belief in any religion, then I don’t know what is. I speak for myself when I say don’t tell me the universe is proof enough. For believers, their first and foremost loyalty lies to their creed, and those belonging to it, they are cliquish.
Naheed Kamal is an irreverent and irreligious feminist. An old soul of indeterminate age, with one too many opinions and a very loud voice (for a little person), she laughs a lot, mostly at herself. She lives in Dhaka, against her best judgement. Mostly, Ms Kamal rants, a lot!
Not believing in a god means not believing in any god. It is not a substitute for one, or a deity with a different name or no name. Hard as it may be for a believer to accept, it is equally difficult for me to grasp why anyone continues to believe in any of it Anyone who criticises or tries to leave the clique is seen as an enemy of said creed, and he/she becomes the enemy off everyone who believes in that creed. In some cases, it is even justifiable to kill the “other,” and circumstances can be stretched to suit the need of the moment. It is apparently every believer’s duty to kill an apostate, ie someone who is born to the religion but refutes it, such as myself. A cleric in Syria decreed it was all right for rebels to rape Shia women; in the Maldives a young girl who was raped was found guilty and administered one hundred lashes; in the UK, the parents of a young girl murdered her because they thought she was too defiant. There are hundreds of stories. I won’t even go into the suicide bombs and mindless violence perpetuated in the name of religion by people. Many will say that is not religion, it is people, but to me, it looks like one and the same. n
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Savar Tragedy
United in crisis Faisal Mahmud writes about the everyday people who made a difference in Savar
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t’s hard to find any silver lining in the cloud that has covered Savar’s sky in the last few days. Amidst the mountain of concrete debris, which used to be Rana Plaza just weeks ago, the stench of the dead is still afresh. The sudden Nor’easter during the fourth day of the rescue operation only added salt to the nation’s wound – perhaps one of the biggest ever. The rescuers had to pause for a bit due to the bad weather. People were
still trapped inside. The clock was ticking. Meanwhile, in the makeshift medical camp that was set up just by the side of the ruins, a young soldier of lanky built was getting treated. The doctors had to force him to get the treatment. Siraj Hossain, the soldier, had rescued six people almost singlehandedly. He would have rescued more if not for the hellish condition inside the ruins that made him severely weak
Nashirul Islam/Dhaka Tribune
Hundreds of thousands of common people, putting their caste and religion aside, came forward to help the victims and their families
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and dehydrated. But he was restless. “There are more in there. I saw two women under a pile of concrete, still alive, asking for help. I have to get back inside. I know the way,” he was saying in a tired yet choked voice. In the meantime, the relentless rescuers, mostly civilians who barely knew how to conduct a rescue operation, went into the collapsed building without caring about the possible danger. They drilled a hole through the second, third and fourth floors from the top and pulled out 28 survivors and 34 bodies from the wreckage by Saturday noon. For many a guy like Kauser, rescuing the hapless and helpless people trapped inside the ruins became an obsession. “I am here since Wednesday. I didn’t have anyone dear inside. But I just couldn’t stand idle and watch people die,” Kauser said, who ventured inside the ruins as many as 30 times and pulled out more than 20 people – dead and alive. Babu, another young rescuer, already had to get treatment from the hospital as his repeated attempt to get inside Rana Plaza and save people had made him fall sick. That hardly stopped him, though. “People are still inside. I have to get back there,” he said, whose clothes were covered in dust and debris making him look almost like a wounded soldier. Maj Gen Chowdhury Hossain Sarwardy, commander of the Ninth Division of Bangladesh Army, who is coordinating the Savar rescue operation, has already praised the work of the volunteers. “This operation is being conducted with the help of both trained commandos and regular people. The contributions of these trained and untrained participants are immense in this rescue effort. They are showing immense courage,” he said. “Their joint effort makes Bangladesh a model of human endurance, courage and strength, even though we do not have the practical experience to deal with such crisis,” he added. Aside from those brave volunteers,
More on Savar tragedy l
A total of 391 dead bodies were recovered from the ruins of Rana Plaza, while 2,437 were rescued alive (as of April 30, 8pm).
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The building housed five RMG factories – New Weave Bottoms Ltd, Phantom Apparels, Phantom Tac, Ether Tex and New Weaves Styles (according to BGMEA website).
Syed Zakir Hossain/Dhaka Tribune
Faisal Mahmud is a staff reporter at Weekend Tribune who specialises in writing IT and telecom articles with depth and analysis. He is also in charge of the weekly Tech page for the newspaper
FEATURE
hundreds of everyday people came forward with whatever resources they had in order to provide help. Munir, a teenager from a local madrasa, has been working relentlessly since the tragic incident happened. He donated blood, helped people carry the injured people, and even volunteered to seek and collect donation for the victims. Nazrul Islam came to Savar from Bakshibazar. He had brought 50 packets of saline, biscuits and 20 bottles of water with him. “I wanted to come here earlier. I just couldn’t sit idle and watch people
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Nashirul Islam/Dhaka Tribune
die,” he said. “The law enforcement personnel here didn’t allow me to go inside as they said they would soon start lifting the debris with heavy-duty machineries,” he added. Ikhteshad Alam, a student at Jahangirnagar University, has been actively there in the site for the past few days. From donating blood to collecting money – he has been coordinating the relief effort in his university. “We are collecting fund for the survivors. After a few days, people will forget about the victims, but we want to make sure that they will receive whatever little help that we could provide them with,” he said.
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eanwhile, in the capital and the rest of the country, people
from all walks of life have started to contribute for the betterment of the Rana plaza victims. Many organisations – big and small – have come forward, collecting and providing help. On Friday, April 26, after the Jumma prayer, volunteers were found outside almost all the mosques in Dhaka collection donations from people for the Savar victims. Funds were collected in several educational institutions. Various NGOs have come forward with money and other necessities. Even those who couldn’t actively participate in helping the Savar victims engaged themselves in disseminating information through social media. People from all walks of life have been moved by Savar. Just take one look at the homepage of many young Bangladeshis on Facebook and you
will see the amount of information that has been circulated. They want to contribute in whatever way they can to help complete strangers rescued from the ruins of Rana Plaza, or still trapped inside. Only weeks ago, the country was in serious turmoil: people were divided into several sects depending on what religious and political ideology they held dear to. A shadow of disrespect, untrustworthiness and instability had prevailed in people’s mind. It took a tragedy of the magnitude of Rana Plaza to bind us all together, reminding us what we are indeed capable of. But the price that we had to pay is just way too much. n
Aside from our trained law enforcement personnel including army, RAB, police and fire service and civil defence, hundreds of volunteers took part at the rescue mission at Rana Plaza site, risking their own lives
W E E K E N D TR IBUN E FR I DAY, May 3 , 20 1 3
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POST-RIPOSTE
Ananta vs Barsha
Hridoy bhanga divorce I
come to this industry with plans to greatness. I always thinking what ip technolozy used in filims? We could be beating Hollywood. I am actually a biznezman, but I also moobheez. Ip you can, vizit our wepsite dabloo dabloo dabloo dot monsoonfilimsbd dot com. There iz backgound history of me, me the biznezman then the hiro. Ip you look wepsite well, you will see I am also a great industrialist. Monsoon Filims is a vishon of mine. I hab come to this pozishon with hard work and dedicashon. A few days ago, you must hurd, Barsha and I separated. All capoles fight, right? It is personal; it is a matter of the famelly. I respect her a lot. But always call me drunkard man and smoker. I remember the time and again she fought for me. My love for her never changed for those things. She had been inspirashon, I even bought her a BMW to show my love por her. I don’t like toking about “U POM GANA ... MADAR POM RUSSIA.” It is so boring and old – peopol should grow up, but I don’t mind, that incidents
Eeu are most oelcome!
Tamoha Binte Siddiqui
W E E K E N D TRIBUNE F R I DAY, M AY 3, 201 3
M
y “Khoj-the Search” for a nice husband ended when I first met Ananta. We soon fall in love and get married in 2011. But he change with great “Goti-the Speed” after marriage. His behabhiour become so bad. He smoked and drunk a lot. I make him understand again and again and try to make him good. I also become his pillar and stand with him when people make fun of him as his accent not correct and he is not educated. I even throw a plate at a boy who try to insult Ananta by asking: “Eeu pom Ghana?” I have been a good wife. I have never cheat on him with another man.
Ananta
The khoj is not obhar! Rifat Islam Esha
Tanmoy/Dhaka Tribune
Barsha
showed me how many peopol loves me. I dedicate all my nirshartho balobasha to them. Thank you fans. If peopol still questions about Barsha and me, we are adults, we separate by choice. I gabe her ebhrithing – my lipe, my tim,e my passhon. She even got out case to the police and I, the one, found her toking to other peopol on Iskype. But bygone is bygone; I am an adult. My khoj for love is found in my fans, my art, who are the most oelcome from my soul. n
I tried to be patience, and try and make him behabe like literate person. I am also the reason why his movies become hit, as I am the inspirashon for all songs and the story. I also took care of his business as I am more better at taking care of money. I was there for him always ebherywhere – from Mansister to Ghana. But he never appreciate me. So, now I say with sad heart: “Ananta, eeu are most oelcome, but no thank you.” n
TOP 10
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Bad Customer Services
Waiting to be served!
Weekend Tribune pinpoints the organisations in Bangladesh that are infamous for having the worst customer services. The list has been prepared based on a number of criteria, such as lack of helpfulness and professionalism, inefficiency and unavailability
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Indian Visa Centre
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Bangladesh Road Transport Authority (BRTA)
If you’re looking for prompt and quality customer service, BRTA will be a huge disappointment. This public organisation has a reputation for not only being corrupt, but also for being a place where the customers are served well at the employees’ discretion. Just ask a family member or a friend, and I’m sure you will find evidence of such unethical practices abundantly taking place at the BRTA.
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Teletalk
It’s an emergency and your mobile phone has no signal. That alone should be of no surprise for the state-owned Teletalk customers. We are used to having our services interrupted right when we need them. And there’s no light at the end of the tunnel, because just when you think you can dial 111 and get customer support, you realise, well, there is no customer support. Despite all the talk of a revolution in mobile phone services, I was not able to get across to Teletalk once in trying for three months. So, if you’re a Teletalk subscriber, be warned. You are all alone.
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Going to any national bank in the country will make you curse yourself for having money. There is no such thing as official banking hours: bank officials can take off from work anytime they want, or not show up at work at all. If you do manage to get hold of them and ask for help to open an account, be ready to face the long waiting list.
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Bangladesh Post Office
Although according to their website, Bangladesh Post Office is “committed to a speedy, reliable, and regular service to the people,” anyone who has visited any post office in Bangladesh will know what a joke this is. Officials there are not only unorganised and lethargic about helping customers, not to mention rude, but they’re also absent most of the time! In fact, the postal officers are infamous for going away on three-hour lunch breaks.
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Bangladeshi embassies
Anyone who has had the misfortune of visiting the Bangladeshi embassies abroad will know how unwelcoming they are. You’d think that, being the representatives of the Bangladesh government, the embassies would be your biggest support in times of need. And it is one of their purposes – to look after the Bangladeshi citizens in foreign countries. But in reality, most of them hardly care about silly problems like you losing your passport, or getting into trouble with the authorities. You’d be lucky if you can even find an official to talk on a workday.
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Bangladesh Parjatan Corporation
Parjatan isn’t another of those government bodies where you can’t expect to get any customer service – ever. It is surprising, considering the fact that Parjatan has a 24/7 customer service since 2003, until it was transferred to the Bangladesh Tourism Board in 2009. That didn’t make the services any better,
Tanmoy/Dhaka Tribune
The service at the Indian visa centre is absolutely despicable. For the last year or so, we’ve been told that getting an Indian visa should be easy. Simply go online, apply for an e-token, get a date for your interview and show up. My naivety got the better of me and I actually believed that it would work. Of course, it doesn’t. For starters, getting an e-token is just about impossible. And then, there is the visa form itself. Opaque, excessively intrusive and sometimes plain silly (why does it matter if I am separated or divorced?), the whole process just lends credence to the rumours that tourists to India are just not plain welcome.
Government banks
though. Acquiring information regarding tourism in Bangladesh remains, unfortunately, a difficult task.
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Dhaka Water Supply and Sewerage Authority (WASA)
WASA promised a lot when it started its facelift in 2010 with the slogan “Ghure Darao Dhaka WASA.” One of its promises was to introduce customer-friendly 24/7 service centre. Eventually, the civic water authority started its customer care centre, but the service is not “friendly” in any sense. One would barely reach the customer care centre even after repeated phone calls. Though their website has incorporated a section lodge complaints, the webpage hasn’t been refreshed for years.
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Biman Bangladesh Airlines
Although Biman claims to be “Your home in the air”, in reality it is more like a slum in the air.
Biman is our state-owned air carrier, and its customer service is one that barely exists. Biman’s ticket counter openly prefers influential customers and does not cater well to the regular ones. It’s also “well-known” for flight delays and cancellations like no other airlines. Despite this common problem, it has not even developed a contingency plan to deal with its frustrated customers.
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Bangladesh Telecommunications Company Ltd (BTCL)
How does a company respond to competition? Well, if you asked a BTCL official, he would simply say: “By becoming even more inefficient, lethargic, and averse to technology. Getting a phone connection is a nuisance, errors on bills and charges are all the more present and, of course, lines abruptly go bad only to reappear again once you pay some bokshish to your friendly neighbourhood line man. And government officials wonder why BTCL revenues have become non-existent. n
W E E K E N D TR IBUN E FR I DAY, May 3 , 20 1 3
10 MAB Siddique is a staff reporter at Dhaka Tribune. He specialises in reporting on political affairs and has a background in economics and literature
THOUGHT PLOT
May Day
Establishing labour rights MAB Siddique ponders on the significance of International Labour Day in Bangladesh
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Workers have always been an underprivileged community in Bangladesh, often deprived of the most basic rights
his year’s May Day came at a time when Bangladesh witnessed yet another instance of workers falling victim to their employers’ exploitation, deception, brutality and immeasurable greed for profit. The collapse of Rana Plaza, which housed five readymade garment (RMG) factories, was a result of a number of irregularities and violation of laws, which resulted in the death of hundreds of RMG workers, mostly women. This is the latest addition to the series of RMG factory-related disasters that has taken an alarming number of lives and left an even greater number of people injured, most of whom are now physically disabled. In the last three decades, the RMG industry has become a key player in Bangladesh’s economy in terms of earning foreign currency. The major part of the work-force is constituted by women, whose service can be bought at a cheap price. While factory owners enjoy hefty profits, workers have to make do with meagre salaries. Added to that is the dangerous work environment where their lives are at constant risk. This situation never changes as there is no law to protect them from getting exploited by their employers and to provide them with a safe work environment. When they are victimised, they merely get compensated. Despite the significant size of workforce in the RMG industry, the labourers don’t have a united front that could present their minimal demands to their employers. Organisations supposedly responsible for workers’ welfare can’t find a common ground, as each of them have different views. They’re not allowed to form trade unions, because doing so would increase production cost, which would lead to Bangladesh losing its footing in the global RMG market. Despite the consistent pressure from the international groups and organisations to improve work environment and provide fare wages, RMG owners hardly pay any heed. Instead, workers are put in a vulnerable work condition
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Wikimedia Commons
Mahmud Hossain Opu/Dhaka Tribune
Did you know? Bangladesh has ratified the Minimum Age Convention (C138) and the Worst Forms of Child Labour Convention (C182) of the International Labour Organisation.
Bangladesh is committed to UN’s Millennium Development Goals (MDGs), which include the establishment of a just labour system.
Women constitute almost 80% of the workforce in the RMG sector of Bangladesh.
According to Bangladesh Labour Law 2006, the overtime should be a maximum of two hours a day, and the remuneration should be twice the regular pay.
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Mumit M/Dhaka Tribune
Amirul Rajiv/Dhaka Tribune
that has frequently led to accidents like fire and building collapse. When such incidents take place, there is a flurry of protests and demands for precautionary measures coming from all blocs of society – workers’ organisations, political parties, human rights organisations, media, intellectuals, etc. But, after a while, the excitement dies down and the issue gets buried under the next big thing. Then there’s another accident, and this process takes place all over again. The truth is, the possibility of having an industry-based economy in this country was nipped in the bud a long time ago. In the last 30 years, as our economy found its way through liberalisation and privatisation of industries, many large-scale industries were liquidated one after another. As a result, there was a rise in unemployment, which was further fuelled by the steadily growing population that put a pressure on people in the rural areas, whose livelihood heavily depended on agriculture. All this caused a large number of low-skilled labourers to migrate to urban areas, the majority of whom, especially women, found jobs at the RMG sector in exchange of negligible salaries. The overall impact of the service that these underpaid RMG workers have on our economy is rather significant: a huge portion of the foreign currencies that Bangladesh earns comes from exporting the RMG goods. The sector has also had contributed to women’s empowerment to a great extent. It should not take much to meet the minimum safety requirements in the RMG factories, and that responsibility falls on the owners. If the existing laws were properly enforced, the accidents could have been avoided and a lot of lives saved. Though, the RMG industry earns a bulk of foreign currencies, there are other avenues that contribute to our economy as well. The migrant workers
have maintained make a great deal of remittance inflow to the country. However, fraud and mismanagement have plagued this sector, which in some cases have resulted in the loss of lives as well. There have been reports of migrant workers getting oppressed by their foreign employers and not getting proper support from the government authorities. Child labour is also an issue that needs to be addressed immediately. Despite being illegal, you can always see children working in the streets, households, hotels, industries, etc. And they get paid poorly. There have been reports of children being subjected to forced labour in brick fields, shipyards and even prostitution. As a whole, the situation regarding labour force in this country is unregulated and vulnerable to exploitation. One major goal during our Liberation War was to achieve a selfsufficient Bangladesh where the value of labour would be established. The target was to form a society where labour would be driving phenomenon, which still has not been achieved. The economy has grown over the years, but workers remain in the same situation – exploited, impoverished and neglected. As long as workers’ rights are not properly established, Bangladesh cannot truly progress. On the occasion of May Day, different organisations will observe many programmes, different corporate groups will launch colourful advertisements, different media will broadcast shows and publish special supplements to glamorise labour and labourer. But if we fail to establish the basic rights – ie fare wages, safe work environment and other job incentives – of the labour community, all this will be in vain. If we can’t provide them with the protection they deserve from the economic, social and cultural perspective, May Day will have no significance in the end. n
Despite a number of incidents that led to the untimely end of hundred of innocent lives, authorities concerned seem oddly reluctant to enforce necessary laws to ensure safe work environment for the workers
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PHOTO STORY
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Cries from the valley of death Photo story by Taslima Akhter “Wanted – dead or alive” read countless posters carried by relatives looking for their loved ones. Blood drips from the ceiling. Feeble voices can be heard through the cracks of dilapidated walls. “Please, save me, brother. I’ll be saved if you just grab my hand. Please grab it. Or, just cut it off, save me please however you can.” The screams, cries and groans of the thousands still alive hover around the whole place, which is nothing but rubble now. Huge chunks of concrete rest on dismantled bodies – precariously. Moving one slab might cause another deadly tumble, killing more. Another couple lie embracing each other in their last, and futile, effort to survive; the lower half of their bodies buried under another stack of collapsed concrete. Rescue workers and volunteers are trying to get them out as well. Nobody knows who they are.
All this is just a partial picture of the open grave that is Rana Plaza. Thousands of faces, all worried, all searching, all panicking yet determined, all scurrying about in an almighty effort to save the victims of this godforsaken collapse. An intense and increasing smell of decomposed bodies hovers around the whole area for six long days. Hundreds of posters of all sizes and shapes saying “Wanted – Dead or Alive” hang on the intolerably forlorn walls of Enam Medical College Hospital and Adhar Chandra High School where corpses are sorted by numbers. People are looking for their loved ones. So far, the government has identified only 386 dead bodies. Why then, are thousands searching for their dear ones? Won’t we get the real numbers this time too?
Now the movements of thousands of workers and visitors are being controlled. Heavy equipment is being deployed in the rescue mission, under army supervision. An overpowering silence reigns. Bloodstains are drying up. No voices are heard anymore through the cracks in the accursed walls. No more dead bodies are being recovered either. Only the panic and the odour remain. A procession of cadavers moves ahead breaking the silence. Who killed us? Are our lives valueless? Will we ever get our lives back? Who is going to look after our children? Can’t I see my son again? I want my life back. Will the killers be brought to justice? This photo story is an effort to move the readers with these questions because they are ours to answer. n
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PHOTO STORY
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PHOTO STORY
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6o of connotations
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Muktasree Chakma Sathi
Lack of respect for a little known culture
Muktasree Chakma Sathi is a staff reporter at Dhaka Tribune. She specialises in reporting on the International Crimes Tribunal and also covers human rights issues
How the mainstream people perceive the indigenous community
M
y Bangali friends often wonder why indigenous students in schools, colleges or universities create their own little groups and choose to not be friends with their non-indigenous counterparts. Well, here I can share my own experiences, which will provide an insight into why this occurs. I am Sathi, and by birth I am not a “pure” indigenous girl. My mother belonged to a Bangali Hindu family. I say “belonged,” since after getting married to my father, she changed her title to Chakma. Yes, you are right; my father is a member of the Chakma community, the largest indigenous group in Bangladesh. As a result of the patriarchal society, I hold the Chakma title too and, despite having a Bangali face, having the surname of an ethnic minority has not been easy for me. Each and every time someone talking to me comes to know that I am from the Chakma community, their tone changes.
I was a law student in Chittagong University, dreaming of becoming a defender of rights. I was, many times, a victim of the misogynist culture and widespread lack of respect for indigenous people that prevail in the Bangali society After enrolling into a university, I could feel dozens of eyes following me – be it whilst I walk down the corridors of the university library, or when I loitered around the faculty buildings. The eyes gazed at me with an expression that suggested they found something peculiar about me. Many of the girls, including Bangalis, noted that they had had very similar experiences only for being girls. However, my experiences were a bit different. “Hey, it’s a girl! And it’s a hilly chick!” the onlookers whispered amongst themselves. Moments later, these probing glares gained commanding voices. The words that were expelled from those
onlookers’ mouths were almost exactly the same every time: “I want to be a friend of yours because I am very much interested in ‘upajatis’.” To those of you who wish to experience the “novelty” of having an indigenous friend, I have a small tip for you – just be friendly, as you would to any other person whom you wish to strike up a friendship with. You don’t need to mention reasons behind your desire to develop a friendship. Break away from your preconceived notions. Think about it – you have never needed to explain you reasons behind befriending someone from your own community to said person, have you? Let me elaborate a little. What is it that sparks your urge to have an indigenous acquaintance? Is it simply curiosity? Is it because you don’t know anything about us and you think gradually you will get to know everything about us through our friendship? Ask yourselves: are you blinded by your misinformed preconceptions, or not? From my first-hand experiences, most of you with these problematic views grew up with some ridiculous ideas and peculiar impressions of indigenous people: “Do you have bathrooms?” “Do you use salt and oil while cooking?” “Hey! I have heard that you eat live cockroaches … is this true?” “Don’t you face problems socially if you choose to live with your partner?”
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hese are just a few of the questions that I have faced in the past five years. I am not alone, though, as these questions, or other similar questions, have been posed to every indigenous student in Bangladesh. Once more, please, look over the questions I listed above. Do you think that any of these questions show any respect to us and our culture? How would you feel if you were asked such insensitive questions about YOUR culture? There are approximately 75 ethnic minority groups who fall under the
banner of “Adivasi.” We have different values, different languages, different cultures, customs and habits. We are different from you in many ways.
Every indigenous girl endure irritating experiences, regardless of which institution they study in. To many readers, this may sound quite normal. But for us, believe me, it is simply embarrassing to be subjected to the attitude and body language of the speaker But many of you like to see the differences as something “exceptional,” rather than mere variances. Why is it so? Why are such ideas still so deeply rooted in our society? WE have our own languages and alphabets, don’t you? WE have our own cuisine, fashion and habits, don’t you? WE have our own social, religious and natural values and rituals, don’t you? We practice our culture, each and every day, as we have for hundreds of years. Along with that, we are proudly upholding the Bangladeshi culture. We are proud to be Bangladeshi citizens, as are you. So, to the readers, I ask you to treat us as you like to be treated. It is intolerable when, on the road, we hear from the mainstream people shouting and teasing us saying: “Hey, Chakma!” I will not urge you to help us. I would simply like to request you to show a little respect towards a longstanding culture that is still little known to you. Yes, we are different from the majority of the population. Yes, we represent a much smaller proportion of the people. But, remember this: diversity is beauty and plurality is the strength. If you and we could join hands, it would strengthen us and the society we are all part of. If we create rifts between us simply due to the trivial cultural differences, it will simply increase the possibility of further rifts and eventual chaos. n
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REALPOLITIK
The Jamaat-Hefazat Connection
Religion in Bangladeshi politics over the years 1792 Theologian Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab, the father of the ultraconservative branch of Sunni Islam known as Wahhabism, dies 1977 President Ziaur Rahman replaces secularism by issuing a proclamation order to insert Islamic principles into the Constitution, including the addition of the words “Bismillah-HirRahman-Ar-Rahim” to the Preamble 1988 President HM Ershad amends the Constitution to found Islam as the state religion 2006 The Cyber Crime and Information and Communication Act is passed. It allows for punishment of up to 10 years in prison for aggravating religious sentiments or defaming a religion 2011 The ruling Awami League passes the 15th Amendment that restores secularism and the universally accepted principle of the right to freedom of religion. However, Islam as the state religion and the words “Bismillah-HirRahman-Ar-Rahim” are retained 2013 Hefazat’s leader put forward a 13-point demand to the Islamic Scholars’ Convention on March 9. This is reiterated at its long march on April 6. Hefazat’s programmes are fully supported by Jamaat at this point
The road to Hefazat-e-Islam
Dhaka Tribune
Ikhtisad Ahmed explores the relationship between the two religious organisations under the limelight today
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group of prominent Indian scholars of Islam developed a movement in the 19th century. Islamic in nature, it decried British colonialism, which was viewed as corrupting the religion. This was the Deobandi movement, inspired by the spirit of Shah Walliullah. Tablighi Jamaat of Bishwa Ijtema fame and the Taliban, amongst others, stem from this revivalist movement. Qawmi madrasas, where Hefazat-eIslam has its roots, predominantly follow the Islamic Deobandi model in their theological curricula. Hefazat, a self-proclaimed nonpolitical organisation, has steered the political and public debates away from governance, accountability, crime and punishment, and towards religion. It has been very vocal in the political sphere despite its assertions to the contrary. In the face of its surge, several average Bangladeshis have expressed the prevailing sentiment via social media that, being a bad Muslim is preferred to being an atheist.(Can you give an example?) The reason behind such partisan, and often incendiary, feelings and actions is that, Hefazat, like any other Islamic organisation, has failed to inform the public or educate the populace about the religion they purport to represent.
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The common man has been caught up in the melee, and to his detriment has overlooked the words of Nobel Laureate Steven Weinberg: “With or without religion, good people can behave well and bad people can do evil, but for good people to do evil – that takes religion.” Anything can be cloaked in religion, especially a potent one, to make it seem justifiable, as AlQaeda and the Taliban have done to great effect for years. Hefazat seems to be very aware of this. Hence, it has entered the fray with the infamous 13-point demand, neglecting the fact that a religion ought to be strong enough to not require protection from any government, moreover not at the expense of fundamental rights. These actions have brought it close to Jamaat-e-Islami. Neither has shied away from using religious symbolism to further its own needs, often at the expense of the religion. The two ought to be natural allies, but ideological differences have kept them apart until now. Husain Ahmad Madani, the spiritual leader of Hefazat’s Ahmad Shafi, denounced Jamaat’s first Amir, Abul A’la Maududi. However, Jamaat’s existence in independent Bangladesh is becoming increasingly controversial, and its sustenance as a political force difficult. Hefazat
Did you know? n
Hefazat-e-Islam is a Qawmi madrasa-based organisation originating from Chittagong. It is supposed to have Islamic scholars as its members. n
All madrasas not regulated by the Bangladesh Madrasa Education Board are Qawmi. They are private organisations whose operations rely on large donations and wealthy patrons. n
Madrasas experienced an unregulated growth, increasing in numbers from 4,100 in 1986 to over 64,000 in 2005.
has risen in the ranks of politics in the country, and has given Jamaat, which fully supports its programmes, an opportunity to dig up the fundamentalist rhetoric of yesteryear that made it so appealing to BNP. Any influence Hefazat has on the people or on politics is owed to its religious views. Therefore, any increase in its stature strengthens Jamaat, as they have enjoyed a monopoly in religion-based politics, unless Hefazat becomes politically active and occupies that space. From the Council of Nicaea convened by a pagan emperor to unite Christendom for his benefit in the West, to the Umayyads taking the lead on matters of shariah in the East, to the Crusades that saw the West clash with the East, modern religion has been shaped by politics. Therefore, whatever happens in Bangladesh, it seems it will all be in the name of religion, and is thus expected to be palatable for and acceptable to everyone. Religion, after all, has been the most trustworthy of political tools for time immemorial, because of the power it allows the authorities to wield unchallenged by the masses. n
INTERVIEW
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Humaira Noor
A poet’s perspective Tamoha Binte Siddiqui interviews an upcoming writer
H
umaira Noor personifies the very proverb: “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Petite, graceful, and soft-spoken, no one can guess at first glance that there’s a raging poet hiding beneath the surface. While talking about her hopes and aspirations as a writer, she speaks with the eloquence and passion of a true artist. You have a degree in chemical engineering from Malaysia. How did you come to be involved in creative writing? Both engineering and writing deal with creation, and that fascinates me. I believe that we’re capable of taking a lot of projects in our hands in life. The more varied we are, the more we gain knowledge and consequently the more “human” we become. This belief leads me to challenge myself and run parallel careers: teaching at North South University and engaging myself in Dhaka’s literary world.
When did you write your first poem? What was it about? If I remember correctly, I was seven. It was a five-line poem that I can never forget because it still reflects my most inner instincts. It was about how butterflies don’t fly in the sky but are limited to flying in gardens. What inspires you? Anything and everything around me. I’m particularly drawn to the minute, momentary emotions or everyday stuff that otherwise go unnoticed. I also get inspired by abstract artwork or photographs. Also, like most writers, I often draw inspiration from my own life. Which writers do you look up to? So many, and each for different reasons! Pablo Neruda, William Carlos Williams, Federico Garcia Lorca, Arundhati Roy, Doris Lessing and Emily Brontë, to name a few. Would you like to share a little about your own creative process? My creative process involves sitting somewhere quiet and concentrating on a blank canvas. It can be the laptop screen, a piece of paper or even a wall. It’s almost like meditating. I ponder upon the topic until I feel it in the whole of my being and am ready to write. I usually take a week to finish one short story, because it gives me time to think and feel the characters and the setting thoroughly.
How did you feel after winning the open mic competition at the Hay Festival last year? It was a pleasant surprise! I didn’t know I had won and was actually attending another session at the time. Then I heard my name echo through the lawns of Bangla Academy and I literally ran, lest I miss the chance to recite at such a prestigious event. By the time I reached the stage, I was breathless, but it added to my advantage because it was a sad poem and needed some breathlessness in the performance. I will never forget the experience.
promote Bangladeshi writers. Literary magazines, journals, and anthologies are also being published in order to highlight upcoming Bangladeshi authors writing in English. With so much going on, we can only go forward from here; what is that if not a revolution?
What are your future plans regarding your career as a writer? I want to chase perfection. I want to be satisfied with my writing and it hasn’t happened yet. That’s why I want to seek academic training in writing in the near future and keep striving for perfection in this art form. n
Tamoha Binte Siddiqui is a staff correspondent for Weekend Tribune, because weekends are the highlights of her life. True story!
You’ve worked with British poet Ross Sutherland in British Council’s workshop Unstable Poetry. How was the experience like? Ross Sutherland is the most enthusiastic and vivacious poet I’ve ever met. He is full of innovative ideas and ever so spontaneous in his thoughts. I can’t thank British Council enough for the workshop because I, along with nine other poets, learnt a great deal about multimedia and digital poetry. He also demonstrated various other techniques to us, which helped my writing, especially with speed-writing and “found poetry.” Are you comfortable working with other people on creative projects, or do you prefer to work individually? I always thought that creative projects like poetry and fiction writing was extremely personal, because two person’s views can never entirely match. To my surprise, Ross Sutherland’s workshop changed my mind. I worked with nine other poets on various little projects at the workshop and learnt that collaborating brings a spectrum of flavour to the piece. It’s an art of another kind, really. Do you feel intimidated by writers who have received academic training in the field of creative writing? I definitely have a lot to learn from their honed skills. That’s why there is an ingrained respect and admiration in my heart. I won’t call it intimidation at all. It’s more like inspiration. Do you think Bangladesh is going through a revolution in terms of creative writing in English? Most certainly! Numerous initiatives are being taken by British Council, Goethe-Institut, ULAB, various other universities as well as newspapers to
Tanzim Ahmed Bijoy
Notable achievements
Winner of open mic competition at Hay Festival 2012.
Assistant editor of literary magazine Monsoon Letters.
Chosen participant in British Council’s workshop Unstable Poetry.
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GAME ON
Bangladesh Games
Pride without the fall
Phil Humphreys draws a comparison between the opening ceremonies of the Bangladesh Games 2013 and the London Olympics 2012
With the return of one of the largest sporting event of the country after almost a decade, you’d think that people would be enthusiastic about. Surprisingly, that isn’t the case
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t felt like the return of a hero from exile. Amid much fuss, the Bangladesh Games were welcomed back to Dhaka on April 20, with a musical and cultural extravaganza never before staged in this country. After 11 years away, the excitement in and around the Bangabandhu National Stadium (BNS) was unlike anything I had experienced since last summer, when the Olympics graced the city I came to call home for 10 years. In London, I had witnessed the opening ceremony with mixed emotions. I was fortunate enough to be working for the official Olympic News Service, leading the badminton reporting team at Wembley Arena. My schedule was so hectic, however, that I had to sacrifice my ticket for the main event and watch the sets unfold on a TV screen in a neighbouring hostelry. The rest of the Games largely passed me by. Fast forward eight months to April. On the face of it, a compare and contrast seems futile – unfair, even. The numbers in the stands and on the track were far smaller, and what the Bangladesh Olympic Committee spent in taka, the London 2012 organisers
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Phil Humphreys
paid for its ceremonies in pounds. But for once, it was not about the money. One common theme ran through both spectaculars: national pride. From my first three months on loan to this country, I can already see it running through the locals like the letters in a stick of British seaside rock. Pride is written across the face of everyone I meet and talk to. Wherever I go, I am asked for my opinion of Bangladesh. “Great people, though a few too many of you” has been my stock response so far. Britain, by contrast, is rich in culture and history, but poor on self-esteem. We lack a clear sense of purpose and identity, perhaps because we have never fought for our language or independence, and so have never been repressed. Years of industrial decline, receding world influence, and the inherent stoicism of its people, however, has produced a “mustn’t grumble” nation. Britannia no longer rules the waves; the bulldog has lost his bite. The popular culture magazine “Q” referred to an “almost irreversible tide of scepticism” as the Games approached last summer. It took less than four hours on the night
of Friday, July 27, to turn every head and opinion with what “Q” called “the most surprising, moving, and spectacular cultural event the country had ever seen.” In an instant, Britain was no longer such a bad place to be, and being British was trending again. Perhaps this was our own mass awakening? Unfortunately, I was stuck outside the BNS during the pre-show of the Bangladesh Games opening. Gate 15 had been locked less than an hour in, with scores of free ticket-holders and fellow members of the media still clamouring for entry. When those at the front began forcing the fence, I momentarily feared being transported back to the dark days of British football hooliganism, when tragedies occurred in situations and at outmoded stadia just like this (though not, directly, because of hooligans). Had the national arena really been renovated as recently as the 2011 Cricket World Cup? I cannot conceive how bad it must have been before. With everyone was secure in their seats, all eyes turned to the BNS big screen showing an awe-inspiring three-minute video montage of citizen participation in sport. We saw a young
boy shadow-boxing in his bedroom mirror, girls playing hopscotch in the school playground, and backyard bouts of volleyball and badminton. There was street cricket using bricks as stumps, and office basketball with a waste paper bin as a net. It was so brilliantly shot, it might have come straight from the editing suite of London 2012. But then appeared something unique: the assembled singers of Swadhin Bangla Betar Kendra rendering the national anthem. This was undoubtedly the highlight of the night for me, even before I realised the station’s place in Bangladesh’s history. The radio broadcasting centre was established by the governmentin-exile in the then Calcutta during the Liberation War, and it was the sole source of inspirational messages for the freedom fighters. On a similar note, the London organisers had invited the World War II forces’ sweetheart, Dame Vera Lynn, but she was too old and infirm to attend, so we settled instead for a star turn from Mr Bean. The London 2012 opening ceremony was watched by the highest TV audience in the UK since 1996, when the England football team had last reached the semifinals of a major tournament. It drew an unbelievable figure for what was essentially a work of art, not sport. The BBC released a DVD set of the entire event in time for Christmas, and the lumps in the throat were still so big for some, they were unable to swallow the turkey. The challenge for the Bangladesh Olympic Committee, then, was how to carry the feel good factor of the 12,500 in the stadium, to the 156 million others outside it. BTV broadcast the whole 100-minute show, but how memorable was their coverage and how many did it reach? The Dhaka Tribune and other papers did their bit, filling countless print and online pages with colourful photos and copy. But while I cannot fully understand the words on the street, I have not yet felt a buzz. Perhaps the ceremony was merely preaching to the converted. In Bangladesh, it seems, the one thing everyone can agree on, is that there really is no better place to be in than Bangladesh. Despite this country’s troubled past and uncertain future, the confidence, self-belief, and national pride are already there in spades. The biggest challenge (and success) of the London Games, however, was that all this had to be rekindled. They say pride comes before a fall, but maybe only Britain will need picking up. Again. n
STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND
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Arranged Marriages
Brides for sale
Bassema Karaki muses over the ridiculous side of matchmaking
Bassema Karaki is a LebaneseAmerican married to a Bangladeshi. She shares how strange, crazy, and humorous life in Bangladesh can appear to an outsider looking in
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Tanmoy/Dhaka Tribune
espite modern ideas of love and romance celebrated by the mass media, the practice of arranging marriages is still widespread in Bangladesh. Even the internet is used to promote this practice through websites like shaadi.com, which claims to be the largest matrimonial service in the world. The funny thing about arranged marriages is, they seem more like business deals than a union of two families, and the couples involved seem more like products than independent individuals. Parents of marriageable young men and women are always on the hunt for the best deals in the market, and in my experience, parents in Dhaka will say anything to sell their child’s image. For example, a colleague once mentioned she was looking for prospective grooms for her daughter, and inquired if I knew of any eligible men. Before I could reply, she launched into what was obviously an oft-repeated pitch about how “special” her daughter was and how she came from a very well learned family, educated all the way back to “10 generations.” I was quite sceptical about her family history, especially considering how difficult obtaining an education was over three centuries ago in what is now Bangladesh. As she continued to tell me how exquisitely fair and gorgeous her daughter was, I could only laugh to myself and think she’d be great at advertising. As I am not familiar with the way arranged marriages work, I asked her if the daughter had anyone in mind, to which my colleague huffed haughtily and replied her daughter’s choice was someone quite “below our status,” and obviously she as a mother did not approve of the man or such a match. Incredulous, I asked why, to which she stated that although the man was an engineer living in America, his (distant) relatives were uneducated villagers. I then questioned as to why his distant relatives mattered, since in my opinion the daughter would be marrying the man of her choice and not the extended family. My colleague shook her head defiantly to declare he would not “suit” her daughter, and such a union would bring “shame upon the family.” Her daughter obviously had no say in the matter of her own marriage; she as mother of the bride knew what was best. Besides, she was conducting her part with meticulous care, with
the necessary research to get the best value and nab the best deal in the marriage market for her daughter. As surprising as my colleague’s attitude seemed to me, nothing can beat the conceit of the parents of eligible husbands in the market for suitable brides. Parents of potential grooms place all kinds of ridiculous conditions on the potential brides, which, if not fulfilled, mean the girl in question is a “bad” match. Take the instance of my friend, who was a victim of arrogant and biased parents, who were treated to the usual feast before they met the prospective bride in person. The very first thing the mother of the potential groom did was to rub the make-up off her face only to comment on how dark my friend was. The lady then began to examine her face in detail, only to make insulting remarks about how big her lips and ears were, and how short her neck was. She then asked my friend “to walk across the room” to determine whether she was a good
or bad choice as a bride! My friend suffered through such demeaning objectification, only to be rejected for being too dark. Her parents, instead of refusing to have anything to do with these people, almost pleaded with the suitor’s parents, expounding on their daughter’s honest and kind nature and her potential with a finance degree. The groom’s side were unmoved because they were quite certain they could find a better deal. Bangladesh’s patriarchal society promotes the idea that grooms are worthy of “cash gifts” for the favour of taking on the burden of a daughter from her parent’s hands. This is surprising, considering Bangladesh is home to a predominantly Muslim society and the provision of dowry is not supported in Islam. Still, the practice appears to be deeply incorporated into Bangali culture and the dowry negotiations often monopolise the arrangement of marriages. Where the bride’s parents are wealthy, she is considered a good option, but where the family is
unable to provide the girl with a dowry, the likelihood of her marrying a “good” suitor is limited or nil. I once had the opportunity to speak with a rickshaw puller, who told me he had worked his whole life only to save up enough to marry off his three daughters. He told me that he recently found a suitor who was interested in marrying his eldest daughter, but he was demanding Tk50,000. When I asked why he would agree to pay such a ridiculous amount of money, he replied that this man “deserved” it since he was employed in Dhaka. To this, I couldn’t help but laugh to myself that even the poor class had their definition of status, which included being associated with Dhaka. The more acquainted I get with the system of arranged marriages, the more I realise how well I would fit the requirements of a “good” bride with my fair skin and wealthy family, and the more I tease my husband about how grateful he should be that he got such a “great deal!” n
What I find most ridiculous about arranged marriages is how the practice of demanding dowries is still widespread despite its being against the law
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TOUGH LOVE
DINA SOBHAN
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Dina Sobhan is a freelance writer and a counsellor in mental health and substance abuse disorders
I am in my second year of university and find myself losing focus more each day. I sleep whenever I’m under stress (which is most of the time) and am skipping most of my classes. What is happening to me and how do I motivate myself to continue studying? It sounds as though you have a case of “lazyitis.” You prefer to sleep than study and have become adept at making excuses for yourself. Newsflash, Neinstein; you’re going to flunk out of school and have to work as a coffee server for the rest of your life. If you think you’ve got it bad now, try tending to the needs of over-privileged teenagers all day for a pocket full of chump change. Now that’s what I call stress, not having your parents support you to read a couple of books and attend some lectures for a few hours a day. How’s that for motivation? n
I have an eight-year-old son who is overweight and loves junk food. He never listens to me and I don’t have the heart to deny him food, but I feel bad whenever people, especially family, tease him for being fat. How do I get my son to listen to me and go on a diet when I myself am overweight?
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Tanmoy/Dhaka Tribune
Put down that patishapta and level with me: do you really want to deny your son junk food, or is it you who is having difficulty parting with her pastries and chanachur? Your son won’t feel compelled to lose weight if you enable his bad habits. Maybe you’ve waddled through life not caring about how you look and feel, but it’s unfair to subject your son to a life of mockery and ridicule, which will lead to feelings of low self-esteem and potential failure. Moreover, you are setting him up for health problems related to obesity, such as diabetes, heart disease and high blood pressure to name a few. If you really want to help him, throw out the junk food and introduce a diet consisting mainly of protein and vegetables, and cut down on carbohydrates, sugar and fat. Also, start an exercise regimen of cardiovascular activity, such as walking or jogging. A young boy should be out playing sports with his friends anyway, but if he’s become used to a sedentary lifestyle, he needs to start slowly. As his parent, it’s your responsibility to cultivate good habits in him and raise a confident and happy child. n
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BACKBENCHERS’ CLUB
Across 1 5 6 8 10 11
Coax non-permanent staff to model (5) Colour of beheaded rose (3) Mucky without an older relative, usually (5) Afternoon meals, last of cake and rib (5) Depressed? Make a noise like a cow (3) Paint made from mud, chore sorted (5)
Down 1 2 3 4 7 8 9
Beginning of the collar, the French delicacy (7) Apple product, waterproof (3) Draw cup match (3) Instrument of us, you and the French twice (7) Out of the wind, like golfer Trevino (3) Small number of postwomen (3) A quiet kind of tree (3)
Solution for last week’s crossword
Tanmoy/Dhaka Tribune
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24 Fazle Rabbi is a staff correspondent for Weekend Tribune. While his one hand is busy with pen, the other one keeps on clicking photographs
The Shahbag Movement motivated most of the young Bangladeshis to come out of their comfort zones and voice their concerns out in the open
DAY IN THE LIFE OF
A Shahbag Protester
Fighting for justice Fazle Rabbi talks with an activist in the Shahbag Movement
Mumit M/Dhaka Tribune
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he Shahbag Movement is possibly the largest and longest movement demanding the hanging of Razakars (people who were actively against the independence of Bangladesh) for crimes they had committed during the Liberation War. People coming from all corners of Bangladesh gathered at the Shahbag intersection, one of the key point in the capital that has its own historical significance related to the nation’s birth. Though the movement was started by the online activists and bloggers on February 5, the spirit of Liberation has now spread out among the mass regardless of age, cast, belief, sex or profession. Some have named the place Projonmo Chottor and to them, this movement is the rise of the new generations of Bangladeshis against the traitors. The key demands of the protesters at Projonmo Chottor include capital punishment of all the Rajakars. One of these activists, who has been involved with the protest from the beginning, agreed to share his experience.
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What is your name? My nationality comes before my name. I am a Bangladeshi, and I stand here for justice (this is how 23 year old Parvez introduced himself). What are your demands here? These Razakars betrayed the nation during our Liberation War. They not only killed innocent people, but actively created a hostile situation. They handed our mothers and sisters to the Pakistani Army. I strongly believe that, if they hadn’t helped, we would not have such a large number of people abused and murdered, especially the intellectuals, during the war. Hidden among our glorious victory, they are a black chapter that must be erased as soon as possible. I believe that the Razakars – who betrayed our nation, did not want its existence, bathed in the blood of our forefathers – do not have any right to live. They don’t deserve mercy!
How did you get involved with this movement? I got involved by my own spirit. I’m not here with any political agenda. I believe people gathering here don’t need a political identity to raise their voice against the Razakars. It doesn’t take more tha n being a Bangladeshi to take such a stand. As I said before, the participants here stand against the war criminals. Certainly we do not seek to bring any harm to anybody but the war criminals. They have to pay for their deeds. Being a student of Charukala (Faculty of Fine Arts in Dhaka University), to a great extent my participation also has to do with my studies. I have been working with my friends in making festoons, placards and cartoons from the beginning. We also arranged numerous torch rallies from the Charukala premises. Currently, we are busy painting a gigantic canvas that is going to tell the story of the Liberation War in a single frame. My peers from Charukala have been working on making masks for protests too.
Do you think people here have their own obligation to the country, mainly to demand the hanging of the accused? I don’t know about others, but in my opinion, my canvas is not confined to the papers. I believe that a canvas should cover the whole plot of society. In simpler words, if an artist needs to take a gun in his hands to save the country, then he must do exactly that. These traitors are just like cancer. We need to cut them off. Living under the law, perhaps we will not be able to do what they did to us, but what we can do is raise our voice against these criminals. How are people in your field contributing to this event, or representing the Liberation War? We lost many of our talented artists in the war. Those who survived have been contributing to the country with the strokes of their brushes on canvas. I would like to mention one particular artist – Shahbuddin Ahmed. He is one of my great inspirations, for whom I take a stand here today. n
THE WAY DHAKA WAS
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ruposhi bangla hotel
Bangladesh Old Photo Archive
The Hotel Intercontinental (as it was known in those days) was a treat for us, saved only for those rare occasions. We used to live in Shegunbagicha, so the hotel was just a rickshaw ride away. But just entering the hotel used to be a grand experience, with its luxurious lobby and tasty treats from the hotel bakery. I live in Eskaton now, still not that far away, but the congestion in front of the building and the time it takes to make an exit from the hotel is a deterrent enough for us to stay away! Jamil Hossain, advocate
Hotel Intercontinental 1982
Rajib Dhar/Dhaka Tribune
Ruposhi Bangla Hotel Today
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CULTURE VULTURE
Bangla Calligraphy
Yusuf Banna is a staff writer at Weekend Tribune. He would be happier if he could be a poet, 24x7. He also dreams of being a painter and is envious of those who can paint
“Painting with alphabets is like flesh and blood without the other. It is the Yusuf Banna writes about the very first exhibition on Bangla calligraphy synchronization of both rom April 19-26, a Bangla approach, which eliminates the usage calligraphies, I take down idioms. amateurish. That said, there are many alphabets and calligraphy exhibition titled of extra and unnecessary elements. Whenever I hear one, it appears as who prefer his works as all the idioms “Articulation in Alphabets”It seems Arham-ul-Haque an image in my mind, so the idioms he uses are reflective of wit and colours, not only fifth solo exhbition on Bangla Chowdhury, the humble PHD are selected naturally. Since it is humour. It could be argued, Arham’s writing. Again the calligraphy by Arham-ul-Haque researcher in anthropology at Dhaka calligraphy, I let the idioms and phrases success comes from establishing the it is not only Chowdhury caught the attention of an university, has joined the ranks of dominate the work. I try to let it point value of the idioms with relevant the picture, it is exceptionally large number of viewers noteworthy artists. Arham is the first out its own meaning or connotation. figures in his compositions. Dhaka Art Centre. to formulate and exhibit this form of Most of the time the idioms dictate Poet Syed Ali Ahsan once said that both of them at the Almost every painting was much calligraphy - or as eminent painter their own scale of the work.” calligraphy in Bangla is impossible. His together, thus discussed and debated upon. While and printmaker Rashid Amin defines Idioms, riddles or proverbs are logic was that the Bangla alphabet is calligraphy.” many took snapshots with their it as, “Alphopainting”. Till date, he randomly used in our daily lives . Life rigid in character and has a distinctive
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Arham-ul-Haque Chowdhury
mobiles, some were sighted taking notes from the titles of the paintings. Arham’s motif seems to have given birth to a curiosity amongst the visitors, who were much engrossed with his works. Most of Arham’s calligraphy uses various Bangla idioms and phrases, which has paved the way for a distinguished form 0f writing, almost a pattern of sorts. His work is strongly influenced by the Persian Tughra style, although the core retains its Bangali essence. The usage of ancient phrases and motifs gives this genre a unique character. Not to mention, Arham’s works have a very minimalist
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has under his belt 11 solo exhibitions in various mediums, some of which include hand painted furniture designs, natural dye artworks, scrap metal sculptures to Bonsais made of native plants. Arham is a self taught artist who has been one of the very few artists to have worked on calligraphy in this subcontinent. What this artist has done, is successfully use the basic principles of line and colour to form a composition, contemplative of the connotations behind the idioms used in his work. When asked about his working process, he explained that: “While I browse through the
itself, its struggles, consequences and disputes are generally the source of these idioms, which are evolved and included in our vocabulary. These are also an integral part of our rural heritage. They depict the witty character of our people and no matter how hard life is, we as a nation have a good sense of humour. The tricky part about Arham’s work is to fit the alphabets into a figure. It’s like taming the alphabets and using them accordingly. His works concentrate on calligraphy and while some of his compositions seems like a simple drawing, some painters find his work
feature of its own. We can take the bangla letter ‘kaw’ for example, it has a triangular body and handles like curves which can be compared to the eye. So the question arises, is it necessary to do calligraphy in Bangla? Arham feels that it is and through his work he has proven the poet Ali Ahsan wrong. By connecting the dots, a relation is formed between words and images. Arham’s art of articulating alphabets has become as substantial as he had hoped as an artist. It is with this notion there remains the hope of seeing more of this form of uniquely innovative calligraphy art in the future. n
Photos: Courtesy
Alphopainting in the form of calligraphy
OBITUARY
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Amin Ahmed Chowdhury
The man who cheated death Tamoha Binte Siddiqui writes about the life and achievements of the decorated veteran officer
Timeline Early 1960s Champion at the intermediate-level debate competition in East Pakistan1964: Joined the Pakistan Army 1973 Was awarded the title Bir Bikram 1986-1989 Chairman, Bangladesh Muktijoddha Kalyan Trust 1995-2002 Bangladeshi Ambassador to Oman Wikimedia Commons
One short sleep past, we wake eternally, and death shall be no more, death, you shall die. – John Donne
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ajor General (Rtd) Amin Ahmed Chowdhury, Bir Bikram narrowly escaped death at the age of 25, while fighting in the 1971 Liberation War as a young army captain. He survived a number of bullet wounds while fighting fiercely as part of the Z-force (headed by Major Ziaur Rahman, which comprised 1, 3 and 8 East Bengal Regiment) in Mymensingh. Scars from the bullet wounds remained to serve as a reminder of his brave contribution towards our country. Unfortunately, the veteran freedom fighter could not cheat death a second time, as he died of a sudden heart attack at the age of 67 on April 19, 2013. He was rushed to the United Hospital immediately after being discovered unconscious at his computer desk by family members, but the on-duty doctor declared him dead at 11:45pm. Born on February 14, 1946 in the south of Anandpur village, Feni among two sisters and three brothers, Amin had an affinity for sports from a very
young age. According to one of his younger brothers, he was both a star cricketer and a goalkeeper during his school days. Even after he joined the Pakistan Army, he continued actively taking part in different sports, such as hockey and basketball. Perhaps it was his lifelong love of sports that drove him to be one of the key organisers of many prestigious sporting events hosted in Bangladesh, such as the SAF Games. Dynamic and exuberant, Amin was also a voracious reader and knowledgeable about a number of subjects. In fact, he gave the impression of being a living encyclopaedia as he could give comprehensive lectures on history, politics, different religions, and a number of other subjects without the help of any notes, reciting names and dates from his exceptionally sharp memory. His immense depth of knowledge also led him to become a prominent columnist in a number of newspapers. As a matter of fact, he was working on his latest political
Achievements Chairman of the Retired Army Welfare Association (RAWA) Club
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Independent director of East Land Insurance
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Member of the jury board of the SCB-Financial Express CSR Award
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piece titled “Timirer Majhey Alor Sondhaney (Search for Light in the Darkness)” when he suffered the fatal heart attack. After the independence, Amin was made commanding officer of 16 East Bengal Regiment and also awarded the title Bir Bikram for his outstanding contribution in the war. Later in his career, he went on to hold many important posts in the government. He served as the chairman of Bangladesh Muktijoddha Kalyan Trust, the chairman of Bangladesh Tea Board, and the Bangladeshi ambassador to Oman. Moreover, Amin was a security analyst and an expert on international affairs. He truly was a man who was a master of all trades. Though it has been two weeks since his death, Maj Gen Amin Ahmed Chowdhury will live on as a legacy and a hero as long as Bangladesh lives on. All those who knew him well will say that Amin Ahmed Chowdhury has done it again – he has cheated death twice. n W E E K E N D TR IBUN E FR I DAY, May 3 , 20 1 3
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LAST WORD Faruq Hasan
Faruq Hasan is the Magazine Editor of Weekend Tribune and the resident devil’s advocate
Trading places Woes of having to leave the familiar behind
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couple of weeks ago, I shifted office. It wasn’t much of a leap distance-wise; we probably moved a few kilometres from our old offices in Dhanmondi 27 to our new ones in Panthapath. But emotionally, it took more of a toll. As a kid, we never moved house till I went away for university at the ripe old age of 18. In the next decade, I moved around to at least 15 different places. Couches, sleeping bags, even pool tables were some of the exotic places I called a bed. Of course, with youth comes the ability to take everything in stride. That superpower, unfortunately, wanes with age. Anyways, back to me changing my place of work. It seemed that moving office just a few miles had hurled me back into adolescence. I sought out colleagues that I shared office space with, shook hands with people I knew I probably won’t be seeing a long time, and stared vacantly into the space that was once “mine.” I think one of my colleagues summed it up perfectly
Moving office is a battle, a tussle for territory, a grab for power. End up on the losing side, and you get the virus-ridden computer and the seat next to the office hypochondriac when she said: “Moving office is a metaphor for drifting away from adolescence to adulthood.” You never really expect it, but it happens, and it harbingers a sense of insecurity. What awaits you in the “other side”? Any sense of nostalgia or pop psychology, of course, takes a
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backseat when you move into your new premises. Like soldiers on D-Day, you confront new space with singlemindedness and clarity: new territory has to be marked out; desks and window-side seats have to be gobbled up; bossy, overbearing colleagues have to be cowed to set a precedence. It’s a war zone and the winner gets the table closer to the air cooler. One spot that we all tend to gravitate towards is what I call the Leadership Zone—where all the floor bigwigs sit, and where we all love to be seen. Of course, those hotspots are also known as “push-your-neighbour-out” zone that calls for an assault on your notions of physical boundaries. After playing the push-and-shove game for a while, my neighbour and I came up with our own Geneva Convention of defining physical boundaries: the IPS that we both share for our computers is our neutral zone, while anything on either side of it is strictly no-fly zone. Of course, from time to time we also get into the “coloniser” mode: helpless indigenous inhabitants of different sections of the floor— whose only weaknesses happen to be strategic resources they are guarding in the form of an open window with lots of sunshine pouring in, or a better access to the wi-fi spot—are dealt with mercilessly by pulling rank on them and displacing their place of work.
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olonising mode can, of course, be taken to overkill: too much occupation usually creates resentment, leading to a backlash in the form of the natives ganging up on you in sometimes a physical manifestation
of power, or worse, guerrilla attacks that may lead to your computer conveniently turning off while you are just about to finish your column.
As you mount your new throne, you look back on the comrades you left behind, the old haunting grounds that will now be, well, haunted by others. And you ask yourself: was this all worth it? Unfortunately, any high that you get from a sense of conquest soon gets replaced with the emotional hit that I was talking about earlier. As we beat our chests in triumph, we look back at our fallen comrades, favourite photocopy machines and other paraphernalia we left behind. As creatures of habit, we have favourite chairs, coffee mugs and watering holes. When we change where we work, we may have to change all our haunts. This can take us far out of our comfort zone, leaving a few emotional scars behind. But worst of all, it’s like changing grade school: you have to make new friends all over again. I began to miss mama and his cha, although our new cafeteria is both closer and, I have to admit, the tea tastes better. I missed little Arif bringing all my daily mail to me; the fast internet connection has replaced snail mail with email. But worst of all, I missed my subordinates who I used to bully all the time for office perks of all kinds. Suddenly, a shiny new building and a seat by the window just ain’t worth it anymore. n