“I Have Lost Everything”: Bangladesh Floods Strand more than 1.24 Million Families!
On August 21, 2024, heavy monsoon rains and a sudden surge of water from the Indian state of Tripura led to catastrophic flooding in southeastern and northeastern Bangladesh. Eleven districts were severely impacted, including Feni, Cumilla, Chattogram, Khagrachari, Noakhali, Moulvibazar, Habiganj, Brahmanbaria, Sylhet, Lakshmipur, and Cox’s Bazar, marking one of the worst flood events in recent history.
The intense rainfall, combined with the upstream water flow, triggered flash floods that devastated low-lying areas, particularly in Moulvibazar, Habiganj, Feni, Cumilla, and Chattogram. The disaster has claimed the lives of 59 people, with causes of death ranging from snake bites to electrocution, and many were swept away by the floodwaters. As the waters begin to recede, countless families have lost their homes and livestock, and are now suffering from a lack of safe drinking water, cooked food, and the spread of waterborne diseases.
Suddenly the inter-city train appears rushing at them on the tracks with its deadly noise which is the only thing that alerts the people. The scene includes a train that seems to be traveling as if to arrive at the slum but then ruthlessly goes right through it. It watches and touches both sides of the slum’s tin-roofs.
Who could have ignored such g-o-t-a-n-g, g-o-t-a-n-g sound that raises heartbeats of the inhabitants of the Karwan Bazaar train track Slum in Dhaka on a daily basis… at least fifty times a day? Speculated to have sprung up post-Liberation War of 1971, this slum, while not ancient, is home to residents who have lived here for more than thirty years.
Thousands of shanties line the curvy train tracks. Some of the smallest huts with three-foot-high roofs rent for as much as 2000 taka (about $25), while newer, taller ones cost 3000 taka (about $39) per month. The muddy tracks are strewn with waste and rotten vegetables.
Amidst this, women like Marium Begum, 35, prepare lunch on mud clay ovens just a foot from the rails. A passing train could easily snatch the potatoes she fries in her pan. Marium recounts, “My eldest daughter is ten, and I’ve taught her how to save herself when the train rushes by.” Children here are adept at fleeing from oncoming trains, but the terror of simultaneous trains on both tracks is a frequent, heart-stopping event.
Accidents are common, with many children losing legs, hands, fingers in front of their helpless parents. Jaleha Kahtun reflects, “If we had anything in the village, we wouldn’t live here. The river overflowed and took everything. Now, everything we own is in this bazaar.” These residents are climate migrants, displaced by frequent floods. Despite the dangers, their move to the city allows them to feed their families better than they could back in their ravaged villages. Explore the stark realities and resilience of life on the edge in my photo album.
In addition to the individuals and families that I have been helping by giving small businesses and other solutions to impoverished people’s lives, one of my most important social work projects is to educate young unprivileged rural children.
As a school extension of GMB Akash Institute of Photography in Dhaka, a few partners and I have built a rural school building outside of Dhaka for children who have no access to education.
They come from 8 different villages outside of Dhaka from day labour families who have never received any education previously. This rural branch of the school was started 7 years ago under a tree with 30 students. Now there are more than 200+ students and every year we also provide them with new school dress.
10 amazing teachers who receives monthly wages as well as training for teaching our students. These children will be the first generation to ever be educated in this region.
As you all know, whatever I earn from selling my photography books, Prints of my photos, from my photography workshops and assignments, I use for the betterment of the lives of people in need and the people I worked with.
And my friends, without your support and love I might not have come this far. I am always thankful and grateful.
Our small initiatives can change so many peoples’ lives if we want.
Last week I shared the story of Jhuma. Many of you may not have recognized Jhuma by looking at that old picture of her. That photo and story of Jhuma were taken almost four years ago when I first met with Jhuma at her workplace where she lives with her full family.
The great news is, Jhuma has been going to school for the last four years and she is now in class 4. I have repaid half of Jhumas Father’s loan, and I am trying to arrange the other half of the loan soon.
For the last four years I have been fulfilling all the responsibilities of Jhuma and carrying her all shorts of expenses as like her food, dress, study materials, and everything she needs as a child. In addition, every month I have to pay her family an amount of money, that she could earn as child labor And I promised her I would take care of her studies until she finished her graduation.
In the grace of God, like Jhuma, I have been taking care of 30 children’s responsibilities for 4 years now. I always pray for the ability to cover their educational expenses until they complete their studies and secure jobs. I am sharing old and new pictures of Jhuma with you, and I kindly request that you keep her in your prayers. Sending love and light, _GMB Akash.
You also have the option to support this project. Please feel free to send me a direct message for details or consider joining my Patreon.
A few days ago, I shared the story of Mobarok. Many of you may not have recognized Mobarok by looking at that old picture of him.
Three years ago, I found Mobarok and came across his story, which touched my heart. I took responsibility and paid off his parents’ loan, giving them a chance to start anew.
It brings me joy to witness the remarkable transformation in their lives. They have moved to a new location and are now self-sufficient, making great strides in their financial progress.
students attending their class.
During these past three years, I have been fulfilling all the responsibilities of Mobarok and covering all sorts of expenses such as his food, clothing, study materials, and everything he needs as a child. Additionally, every month I have been providing an amount of money to his family that he would have earned as child labor. I also promised him that I would take care of his studies until he finishes his graduation.
As you all know, by the grace of God, similarly I took responsibilities of educating 30 children for their entire lives three years ago, and I am doing my best to fulfill my responsibilities every month.
My friends, your positive support, pure love, and strong faith in me, help me to move forward every single day. Know that; nothing would have been so easy without you all. My journey could never have gone so far without you. I am so grateful.
Please keep me on your prayers so that God grant me the ability to provide for the expenses of their studies until they complete their education and secure jobs.
I am sharing with you some old and new pictures of Mobarok.
Every time I am working with children on different projects, I like to collect their stories and I always ask them to tell me their dreams. Here, I am sharing with you 10 common dreams that these working children keep inside their hearts! These dreams can give us insights into the souls of these little angels.
Child labour in Bangladesh is sadly very common with 4.8 million child labourers or 12.6% of all children aged 5 to 14 finding themselves in the work force in order to survive or to help their family survive.
I have been working on this issue for the last 15 or more years to create awareness and to bring about positive changes in our society.During these last years, I have taken a lot of steps in an effort to contribute to the education of some of these impoverished working children.
A few years ago, I set up a school for unprivileged children outside of Dhaka where around 160 children from rural villages receive nearly free education. Most of their parents are illiterate and these children will be the first generation to be able to improve their lives and the lives of their families.
I have also given scholarships to hundreds of students who, otherwise would not be able to continue their education and might end up working in factories and in hard labour jobs.
Recently I have been trying to admit working children to school. I have been giving small businesses to their parents so they can earn enough money for the family and send their children to school instead of a factory. So far, I have admitted 22 children to school and have taken full responsibility for their education including all expenses. I will see that these activities will be continued for these children and hopefully more children, until my last breath.
These efforts have, of course, been effected by the COVID-19 health pandemic and the resulting economic and labour market shock that is having a catastrophic impact, in particular, on poor people’s lives and livelihoods.
Unfortunately, children are often the first to suffer. This crisis can push millions more vulnerable children into child labour.
When I grow up, I want to be the owner of a factory and I will name my factory after my mother. _ Razu
I want to send my younger sister to school; she loves to study and to go to school. _Sojib
I want to build a factory where there will be more light, drinking water, fans and more space for working._ Munna
We will rent a big house in our slum so my parents and my younger sister can sleep comfortably at night. Now, in one room four of us cannot sleep. It is too warm and crowded!- Sobuj
My mother works as a maid and my father pulls a rickshaw. I want to grow up fast so I can earn more money every day. Then my parents won’t need to work._ Parvin
I wish I could work in a textile factory. They have a better environment with a fan, toilet and clean building._Shilu
I dream I will have my own factory where nobody will beat any children nor say bad words to them. _Jewel
I studied until class 3 and then we came to the city for work. I miss my school and our village. I Hope I can return to our village and study in our village school._Midul
I want to buy everything that my mother likes. Like new sarees for her, good shoes for her, anything she loves._ Koli
——————-
GMB Akash
Photojournalist and Profile Photographer at Panos Pictures, London
Founder of GMB Akash Institute of Photography, Dhaka
That is the note every child received. In five straight days I had reached more than 500 impoverished Bangladeshi children and gifted one goodie bag each that consisted of an item of new clothes, a pair of slippers and chocolate. Then together we headed for the group lunch. The children grinned from ear to ear, laughed and screamed in joy and burst out in happiness. All this happened due to a ‘three day campaign in my Facebook fan page’. I would like to thank every friend who has donated HAPPINESS to these children. Thanks for sharing your world with these children. During five days from morning to noon I had unforgettable moments with street children, child labourers and unprivileged rural children. My friends, in this video I am sharing a glimpse of that joyous experience which which many of you have created along me. I am welcoming you to have a look at what have you brought to these children!
‘Is this mine?’ Salauddin uttered with surprise. ‘Are these all for us?’ with the same surprise, Ratan, Sojib and Yusuf asked. I nodded with a smile and before I could answer, Sojib run up and called out every child’s name they are living with. To my surprise within half an hour about a hundred of children encircled me with a thousand questions. I handed every child one goodie bag that consisted of a new pair of slippers, new clothes item and chocolate. Their sparkling eyes, bright smiles and warm words made the evening unforgettable. Among them a few were not smiling and seemed confused. I patted them on their backs and asked what happened and then questioned them if they weren’t happy with the new things. With hesitation they asked me if I could provide them with some food to eat as they had not eaten anything since yesterday. That moment I decided besides giving them one goodie bag I will also treat them in a good restaurant and make their day fulfilled. When I declared they can have their lunch in a restaurant their happiness exceeded its limit.
There are hundreds of boys and girls who work as child labourers with their parents who work in the brick fields. While Munni was wearing her new given dress, she shared with me, ‘I hadn’t gotten any dress or shoes for last Eid. Today is my Eid day.’ While wearing their clothes and slippers they continued to laugh, showing their new things to each other and continued to giggle as they saw me waving and leaving them.
The hardest part was to buy different clothes and slippers for different age groups. I would like to give special thanks to my students and companions Tutul, Disary and Proshanto for their generous time and effort. By this post I would like to thank each of you who have helped me with time, labour and generosity for this mission.
The scenarios in the factories weren’t different. The child labourer formed a queue voluntarily and continued to surprise me by their gratefulness. I could not imagine a small goodie bag could give so much happiness. When they opened their gifts each of them smiled instantly. Even in the rural village where our ‘First Light School’ has its junior students, those who belong to extremely poor families burst out in joy while receiving their gifts. All of them gathered, lined up and shouted ‘Thank you!’
My friends, see what we have done together with a small three day campaign. Your generosity filled hundreds of innocent souls with the greatest gift of ‘Happiness’. Thank you! Thank you for showing them that there are people in the world who have a heart to love and give.
Minu (10) was hesitating to take the doll. Our smiles work and she offers her right hand with a slight smile. When we gave her the new Barbie doll she quickly holds it with her two arms. Before we ask her to take a photo she flies like a bird with the sound of laughter and joy. Her innocent voice was up in the air, ‘Moina, Rita, Sulekha come, come, see what I have! Hey all of you come and see what they are bringing for us!’
Within a few minutes the eyes of many innocents’ gathered behind us full of desire. Not even their clothes that lost their color from repetitive use nor their dry skin, nor their frizzy hair – nothing could hide the glittering sparkle of their eye balls. Standing by one after another they looked as if they were dreaming of what we had inside the magic box. Suddenly to them we become magicians. Magicians who give surprise and joy. We become the hamiloner bashiwala. All of the children from the factories were silently following us. Some children were running from their factory with the safety goggles still on their eyes. Some stopped their cutter machine and kept waiting for our arrival at the factory door!
When we offered the new car to Manik (10), he nervously asked his boss, ‘Sir, can I take the toy from Akash bhai?’ After the owner waved his head saying yes, Manik jumped to see what we had for him! We gifted him with the car he liked the most which he took in his hand colored aluminum from the factory. Edrish (11) was following us and whenever we asked him what toy he wanted, he smiled and said none. When we were about to leave the factory site he come in front of us and said, ‘Bhai, my age is not for playing. My younger sister has no toy; can I take a doll instead of taking my car?’ When we gave him both the car and the doll he started to dance in happiness.
Alongside the rail line Razib (8) and his friends were taking a rest after carrying passenger’s baggage. We quickly put cars and balls in their hands. They reacted like they got electric shocks and their shouts of joy won over the sound of the train whistle. From Christmas Eve to until New Year’s Day ‘First Light Institute of Photography’ kept gifting new toys to child labourers, street children and unprivileged children of the country. Their joy and happiness still fills our hearts and eyes in such a way that no words could ever describe what we felt!
Can you remember what your favorite toy was in childhood? How many times you cried to get a toy every time you were out with your parents? There are 7.8 million working children in Bangladesh who are having no childhood and who have no toys. Our school, First light Institute of Photography gifted more than 500 new toys to more than 500 deprived children of the society to inspire and to motivate them as well as to encourage them towards happiness.
Our deep gratitude goes to friends who generously contributed toys after getting the news on my Facebook page. Our heartfelt thanks to them for standing beside us. Thanks to Wil , Anja, Fakrul, Iqfat, Moinuddin, Mou, Sadat for their contributions of toys and Hridoy, Kakon and Tutul for their time in organizing and distributing them.
Give what you want. Want happiness? Make someone happy. Want courage? Encourage. Want love? Give love. Make your life blissful with blessings you are spreading everywhere.
My friends, I would like to invite you to visit our school website and to know more activities like above:
“It seems like a lost world, where standing in a quivering dark, where there is nothing but darkness, a place where you stand alone and shiver in fear. I experienced the same. Children who are inhaling pains within themselves every second make me feel small, their sweating smile flashes their innocent identity, touches of their dirt-oily little fingers interpret their presence in my life, their spoken or unspoken life stories makes me unrest. Since then, I am upholding them inside of me. A simple and small photograph’s emotions might inconceivable to you if still now you do not know any of such children who straggle each day to make a living from nothing. Till the day, I know I had to do and I have to do my bit, may be it could be major, may be it could be minor but that was the day, I open the door of my heart and take them in. I vow to fulfill their lost smile by refilling it in their innocent lips. The creation I am crafting in 10 years never give me such feeling , but then first I felt the tender of giving birth of the creation by dedicating it to the angles of hell, at least my first endeavor to bring them up from the darkest hell. I celebrate my rebirth by expanding my arms, placing as more children as I can and thus my voyage begins.”- GMB AKASH
I cannot remain mute about the oppression that divides human beings — which is one of the reasons I commenced photography and it’s been 14 years I am doing. And it is my duty as a photographer and artist to point with my pictures at every aspect of existence in the society and world I live in, to show what can be shown, to go deep into every milieu and also into every aspect of poverty, deprivation and hardship that I encounter – because the only sin for a photographer is to turn his head and look away. After 14 years, acquiring tons of awards and gaining access to all major media frankly I experience NO CHANGE in the life of people I photographed.
Despite knowing a photographer duty only tilted for showing and investigating reality but this simple rule does not bring peace to my heart. Once an 8-year old balloon maker told me, “I took some damaged balloons for my little sister; I have no time to play. I have only time to support my parents,” I realized at that point I should turn my lens on lives like them.
I decided to dedicate whatever fund I left after make a living of mine to give to these ‘Survivors’. First I decide, I will gift them opportunity which will come from my personal earnings, portion of print sells or selling portion from my book ‘Survivors’. In the industry I am a straggler yet my pursuits provoke me to make my first experiment before I publish my book ‘Survivors’. I started searching faces inside the book and outside the book, which I photographed and found in vulnerable situation. One year I compromise my time, my photography, my assignment and my daily life to search these faces, I started living with them, understanding them and keep finding what I can do to make them able to earn a better life together. My idea is, working with them within the circumstances, gifting them the opportunity which will come as advantage in their life, advocate them as an assistant, monitoring their changes in life in one word to do everything that I will do to change my fate if I were them. Searching a face which I shoot 10 years ago is not an easy job, a face can be invisible in a crowd but I am fortunate to find many of them and building trust on me. 10 successful families consisting of ave 60 members make my dream come true. I ensure their life better, much better than they were living. & this gives me faith to publish my book ‘Survivors’ which is and will be the source of finance and gifting business/opportunity/education/chance to these ‘Survivors’ whom I photographed past 10 years. It was the day when I finally face my eyes to these children and touches their hand knowing I can at least rescue few of them from their daily hell. I become one of them, I become their hope, I become their asset and thus I started valuing myself and understand the significance and purpose of my rebirth.
It was just one year ago when I again found out Munna, whom I photographed at 2006. ‘Integrity with innocence’ this is the concrete of Munna’s character portrayal. Five years ago I first met Munna. Five years have passed fates of Munna & his father brings no change in their lives. At 2011, only difference was, with his five years experience Munna was getting 1600 taka ($1=72taka) per month. Moreover 12 years old Munna was running his younger sister education with his extra income of Friday overtime.
Munna’s father Alamgir was a cobber. Their family is consisting of five members who receive continuous negligence from their community as he works as cobber. Munna & his sister ashamed to say that his father is cobber and his little income cannot give education to his younger daughter Shathi and hunger forced Alamgir to send his little son to the factory which produces rickshaw particles. Alamgir elder daughter has to get married at early age because of poverty. They managed to eat hand to mouth, but without depending on Munna’s income their foods cannot be assured. Munna’s younger sister appeared to her class one final exam by borrowing pencils from neighbors, she had nothing without will for education. Munna works in a factory which produces intolerable noise during work. His 9am-7pm works ruined his childhood. His overtime income never allowed him to play. In fact he lost his interest for playing. A shy, unspoken boy whose whole body was covered with dust and permanent scratch on skins dull his brightness in an extent that he seems belong to the darken factory. During working with him in his work time, I never saw his smile. He had no ambition, no dream and surprisingly had nothing to share with anyone.
I aim to help Munna & his family. & my journey with them begins.
After seating several sessions with Munna’s family, we come to a decision that Munna’s father is the person who can be the financial in-charge of the full family and setting him in a business that he is capable to do will be helpful for the full family. After our market survey, by understanding the business chains he decided and I agreed with him to let him do business of cucumber. My logic is not to give money at their hand. I went with him and prepare everything; in short I assist him in every way to do the business. After one month of successful business Alamgir take out Munna from the factory. Their family started having three times food and able to provide rent of the house in proper time. He manages to make his capital triple in three months.
Munna’s younger sister running her school and did top in result. She will be in class four next year. Munna’s only one dream is to support his sister in education and fulfilling his family’s loans which are liabilities of their bad time. Still he wants to support his father by at least doing something. Within two months Alamgir tried to admit Munna at school but Munna told him in his spare time he will go to night school to get same age students like him and at day time he wants to do something he likes. As well Alamgir was afraid as they are living in slum and children who have nothing to do mostly get mixed with people who supplies drugs/engage in bad works. Again after seating with them, Munna expressed to me he wants to do popcorn business and he wants to establish himself independently. I realized I cannot take out him from the situation; I have to assist them to get a better life in their present situation. So I agreed with him and go to see first what will be his changes in life if he sells popcorn near his home at sadarghat.
Now every day, Munna willingly wake up early morning after brushing his teeth he seats with his sister to learn from her. Then he goes to ghat and buys popcorn from vendor later he sells popcorn till afternoon in ghat and finishing his work at 1pm he came at home. Now within months his appearance has changes a lot, his face, hands, and legs, fingers scars are recovering and mostly vanishes. The best thing is that now he laughs, he is making friends in evening field, he is proud that he is doing his own selling and helping his family beside education. Munna who lost most of his childhood in blocked, dull factory now loves to spend time with people by selling popcorn. He becomes vocal and ambitious. He keeps savings from his selling profit of popcorn. Munna’s sister Sathi dreams to become doctor. With the income of Munna’s father and Munna they are happily dreaming for their future.
Every evening Munna plays cricket with friends. Within Nine months Munna is recovering his forgotten happiness. His few hours works, playtime, quality family time and private education changes his life visibly. A family who hardly once managed one time food now can ensure nutritious foods for their children. A pessimistic Munna is now very much optimistic about his life and future. His family is earning happiness by putting out of their mind about their past bad days. I dream to get hundreds of Munna in my journey and to refill their lost smile. I am happy that at least there are many munnas with me and I am able to make them a part of my life. I will share these stories of my life with you one by one. It’s my belief that if a single hand comes to hold a child miracle in their life can happen.
“I am a story teller, nothing but I steal emotions, this link me to those lives which wrapped me in sentiment. I am a simple human being; I do mistake and learn from it. But I like to do experiment and I hate to be defeated. I try and keep trying until I achieve. I will keep contributing magic in lives I face with my camera. I will do my part, I will do my bit. A quote from Helen Keller inspires my journey.
“I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something that I can do.”
If your heart is moved to do something do not make it complex, plan it, do it & do it right now. Stop dreaming in expectation of Superman. Within you there is a vast chance of opportunity spread your wings & bring humanity.” – GMB AKASH
The overall global environment is declining fast and for Bangladesh it has been doing so more rapidly during the last few decades because of many obvious reasons. But we are still not surprised. We, all of us, pollute our own cities with trashes. So how can we claim owners of these factories, with hardly any education be conscious about the environment, feel the need to protect the environment? We need to count ourselves first to protect our own ecosystem to survive in an earth which will be a gift for our next generation – ONLY IF WE CARE
“Pollution is an immense crisis that is slowly destroying the world that we live in. It is crucial for every individual to do what he or she can to clean up the environment. Whether it is in the home or on a management level, or within us, every person is important and has the ability to make a difference and can help to stop pollution”
– GMB Akash
The mighty river Buriganga is now so polluted that all fish have died, and increasing filth and human waste have turned it like a black gel. Even rowing across the river is now difficult for it smells so badly.
Bangladesh has about 230 small and large rivers, and a large chunk of the country’s 140 million people depend on them for a living and for transportation. But experts say many of them are drying up or are choked because of pollution and encroachment. A World Bank study said four major rivers near Dhaka — the Buriganga, Shitalakhya, Turag and Balu — receive 1.5 million cubic metres of waste water every day from 7,000 industrial units in surrounding areas and another 0.5 million cubic meters from other sources. There is no fish or aquatic life in this river apart from zero oxygen survival kind of organisms. Bangladesh enacted a law in 1995 making it compulsory for all industrial units to use effluent treatment plants in a bid to save river waters from pollution, but industry owners often flout the rule.
Dhaka city alone generates about 3500 to 4000 m tons of solid wastes per day. The amount increases with the increase of population every year. The domestic, commercial, street sweeping, combustible and non-combustible wastes include discarded food, grass, plants, paper, cardboard, textiles, plastics, polythene materials, glass, metals, and construction debris.
Industries and factories have been polluting the water bodies in and around Dhaka city for the longest time. There are about 1000 small and large industries in Dhaka city producing a large amount of toxic and hazardous wastes contributing significantly to environmental degradation. The emission of various greenhouse gases such as CO2, CH4, among others from various industries, increases the overall temperature of the earth, resulting in global warming and making the area unsuitable for human habitation, animals and plant species.In the Hazaribag area of Dhaka there are 149 tannery units daily producing about 18,000 litres of liquid wastes and 115 m tons of solid wastes; nearly all of these are dumped in the Buriganga river, and a part is thrown into nearby drains and sewers. These wastes contain sulphuric acid, chromium, ammonium chloride, ammonium sulphate, calcium oxides etc. These may seep into the ground causing ground water pollution. Also, the intense, unpleasant odour affects the health of the people of the surrounding area. tannery wastes have a very serious and negative effect on the ecosystem.
‘It is very easy for every single person to help stop pollution and stop destructing the earth. It can take little effort, but can be something that makes a huge difference. Start by evaluating how you can make small changes. Even the smallest changes in your own life can have a massive impact.’
“This is an emblematic depiction of the agony of hard labor. For saving themselves from hunger they breathe in asbestos dust and toxic waste. Thus they are risking their lives everyday. On the verge of death they risk their lives in order to endure themselves. They are passing their days on one of the world‘s most unregulated and hazardous industries, leaving a trail of debris, disability and death in its wake. I spend 10 days in the Gaddani ship-breaking yard north of Karachi in 2005. I witnessed workers dismantling large ships, piece by piece using no protection, in absence of tools, where one wrong move could result in death, but they were continually depending in their bare hands. In a city of dying ships flames with smoke rising, tormented with ship body parts, metal residue, asbestos, and oil spills. Barefooted workers with little access to necessary tools are vanishing ships on the rusty sand of Gaddani and break down these steel giants coming from all the harbours of the world.”
– Gmb Akash
The beach of Gaddani, 50 miles north of Karachi in Pakistan, has become one of the two world biggest cemeteries of super tankers, cargoes and other vessels in the world.Thousands of men, mostly Pashto migrants, toil over the ships. They are seasonal workers, a large number of native and immigrant workers returning to their homeland near the Afghan border at harvest time. The group consists of perhaps from Afghanistan. They pen for their beloved, whom they get to see only during the year ends. For around USD 1.20 a day, thousands of workers labour to dismantle dozens of ships each year at the ship-breaking yard in Gaddani.
Rashed, a labourer at the Gaddani ship-breaking yard has worked for five years dismantling ships. He said: “Had we had any other way of earning bread, we would not have come here.” Workers are always under high risk of accident, though they hardly care to secure themselves. Under hitting rains of sparks, blowtorches split through the thick steel skin of a ship. As they are cut lose, the pieces of metal plummet to the ground with a roar. I saw workers, toiling ceaselessly, as though banished forever to an underworld.
Many workers operate in tight spaces where the air is thin, and in high temperatures caused by hot welding, which is widely used, not to mention that they are constantly exposed to flammable liquids like paints and solvents. The work carried well into the night shipyard in Gaddani, Pakistan. This is the ship graveyard that serves as the final destination for a significant part of the world’s fleet.
“Barefooted workers would take apart, bit by bit, the dying ships with their bare hands, shipyard in Gaddani, Pakistan. On their shoulders, workers bore great metal plates to their destination. People complain about their crappy lives working in an air conditioned work place, imagine having this as your only option in life.”
“It was 1999, when I first realize I need to focus stories on a helpless community. For that feeling, there was a story behind. As a child, I was a frequent visitor at my uncle’s house at Narayangonj, somewhat 25 kilometers north of Dhaka. My uncle had a hermaphrodite locally called as Hijra, whose name was “Khushi”-meaning happiness, but that is what she very much lacked in her life. During these visits I often saw my cousins with their friends taunting and making fun of Khushi, often even worse happened as when they were drunk they forced and made her to strip naked and dance in the tunes of common Hindi film songs. Since Khushi had no place to runaway to and had no means to save her from this humiliation, she gave in to the insults and harassment’s silently. Images of Khushi gyrating and quietly exposing her underdeveloped sex organs left a lasting impression that haunted me ever since.” –
The Hijras live in-groups far away from a regular world. As for them living in normal family becomes an unending series of taunts from the society so the circumstances lead them to leave their regular family. They come to general people but live a life far different and painful in the dark allies, in isolation.
Hijras live in their groups; each one has a leader often called “mother” or “Guru”. Members of a group do not take part in any activities without the permission of “mother”. Even the trimming of hair requires mother’s permission. Failure to get such permission results in a fine ranging from 250 Taka (US$5) to 5000 Taka (US$90).
The norm is, for a Hijra to leave home and join a community of Hijras. This happens mainly because living in the normal heterosexual surroundings becomes is unbearable due to constant taunts, insults as well as neglect. Hence joining other Hijras is normally the most logical thing to do. However, it often happens that the other Hijras will claim any Hijra child on the basis that it is a member of their society and should therefore live with them. Stories of the Hijra community accepting a Hijra baby as a gift, trying to buy it, or even stealing it are not necessarily untrue.
Like in the case of Najma, the occurrence was regular that in the case of any other Hijra. Najma grew up in a well to do family in Barisal, a river port town. When she was 13, a group of Hijra from Narayanganj went to her parents, but failed to persuade them to give Najma away to the group, but later due to the increasing adverse social environment she herself joined the group of Hijra latter in life making her home about 300 kilometers. Away from the parents home in Narayangonj.
Najma is now the leader of a seven-member Hijra group that I studied is bringing up two young Hijra children. Rubi and Chanda are now 14 years old. Najma told me that: ” I cannot be a mother in my life .so It gives me great pleasure to hear them call me “ma”-mother. They will inherit everything whatever I have”. In order to get Rubi; Najma told me that she had to pay 5 000 taka (US$90) to Rubi’s impoverished parents.
Because of their socially prescribed role as performers and spiritual healers, the Hijra appear to live their lives in merriment. In their own homes, Hijras prefer to live in a colorful manner. Their houses are almost always well organized and elaborately decorated. The same goes for their garments and ornaments. Since the Hijra believe they are women, they dress in saris and have ears and nose rings. Most of those I often met also had false breasts made with padding and often with the help of some oral contraceptive are thought to give growth on the form of breast. The hair is kept very long. But the voice and facial features are distinctly masculine, which they try to eliminate endlessly. They are physically strong and very well built. Generally the Hijras have two names one from their family when the were born and the other from the Hijra groups he joins, but often death their tombstone bears the male name that was given by the parents.
They are not only striped from their basic rights but are also made to feel ashamed of themselves. Hijras get a mixed reception from the people; the middle class thinks them as bad omen even the sight of a Hijra in the morning is regarded as the same and believed can spoil the whole day. Where as among the lower class they are believe to posses spiritual powers as they are deprived of the joys of a normal life, their prayers are believed to be answered. They sustain themselves through their performance of singing and dancing at various ceremonies, paying them is regarded as an act of piety but even then getting the events and ceremonies are becoming scare. I saw them as somebody not different from myself and want to clear the common misunderstandings that circle them, the common idea about them is very vague and negative and their never ending pain and struggle is never brought to the book. My efforts will be to do the entire undo and uplift the images of these hapless groups of people called Hijras.
“One day they sang to me a song written in light of their painful life. One of the lines that stand out goes: “The creator has strangled me with his own hands.” Yet they dream— repressing in their hearts, these strong sentiments and emotions they bear towards the Creator — a dream of their own independent community. As one of them told me – “You know Akash, if we had a great amount of money then we would have brought a four stored building and all ‘Hijras’ like us would have lived there. Then no one would have dared to neglect us.” And holding on to this dream in their hearts they aim for a normal beautiful life. So even in such a state of negligence some are continuing school and colleges; in the hope that after studying they will get a job like a normal person and will be recognized and condemned in the society not as ‘Hijras’ but as any other ordinary individual.” – Gmb Akash
“Photography has taken me to discover many unexpected territory as all time I wanted to see the sights of unseen & unforgiving incidents of reality. I was engaged in one of my personal project’s work on ‘sex workers’ for which I went to Madaripur. I have been working on ‘sex workers’ last 7 years & my works demand me to investigate their situation all over the country. Last year, in the month of August when I arrived at Madaripur it was afternoon. Shockingly I have seen thousands of apes are in street, running here & there. It was an unexpected thing of my life to see thousands of ill monkeys are moaning alone. I was traumatized, unspoken & felt awful when I understand all these thousands monkeys stand in front of me are HUNGRY. I always concern to cover stories of situation which need concentration for helping out by the assessment of the world. So I take out my camera & run to middle of them”
In char Muguria area, Madaripur around 2,500 monkeys are facing severe food crisis. Due to acute food crisis many mother monkeys, passing days starved or half-starved, are even unable to breast feed their babies. Quite a few monkeys have already died in this serious situation. Concerned over the pitiable life of the monkeys, locals and visitors have urged immediate arrangement of food for the monkeys. Though the local communities are already poor to feed themselves but the heartbreaking scenarios of monkeys influence them to share their own food with them. Despite keeping distance with human the unable monkeys are taking foods from people’s hands. The hungry monkeys were competing for the inadequate foods like peanut or biscuit given by the visitors. They were also trying to eat whatever they got — grass, garbage, polythene etc. Baby monkeys are suffering badly in malnutrition. Even the water crisis made their lives more pitiful. Local community sought allocation for food for the monkeys but the higher authorities are yet to give any response in this regard.
“A mother monkey by carrying its dead child was passing from trees to trees. When it came in front of me & begged foods I realized the monkey did not identify its child is already dead. This pitiable situation made me terrified. These apes, whose residents are jungle, came out for food & begging to feed themselves. These climate victims are more alike my working project of ‘Sex workers’. Human & animal all are helpless in front of starvation & need. They are survivors of dreadful situation which many of us over looked or never know”- Gmb Akash
I usually take a picture of a person and then afwerward when I close my eyes for recalling what I have taken – the first thing that hits my mind is – Colour. After observing a person if we try to recall, then unconsciously colours comes first in our mind. The texture of the skin, colour of hair, colours of cloths and over all colour gives us an impression about the mood of the sight. Colour is a strong element to illustrate a person’s traits. I believe every person cover a mood of colour.
From beginning of my career I am working for those people who are living in the edge of the society.While I started working with these people I surprisingly discover – life has taken all colours from them but still they are cherishing every moment of their life with colour. Colour is their courage; colour creates enthusiasm on them to fight to live for another day. Person, who has nothing, has colour in life. In beginning of my career I took all black & white photographs of those who are colourful. I found out poverty, sorrows and depressions become vivid if I skip colour from their life.
To present – ‘the present’ I start working on colour. A street child, laborer of a road or even a homeless lady all of them has colour. People who are fighting everyday to live life are heroes to me and these heroes represent colour. Their skin tone, dresses, living places all are colourful and powerful. They are deprived from all happiness of life but yet they treating themselves with colour. While I discover the truth I learned to capture the mood of colour on them.
“…I realize I have no power to deny the colour of these colourful people who are straggling in a colourless, hopeless world, nevertheless they live and smile. So I can not ignore the yellow balloon of a homeless child or even a red bowl of a beggar of the street. This inspiration inspires me to work with colour. Ans I continued my journey in the path of a colourless world to meet with all these colourful souls…”- Gmb Akash
Colour arouses my work for getting the depth of the sight. I got colour in different mood in the different part of the world. But I discover people who are fighting endlessly for surviving are more colourful than any part of the world. Because of this colour is more challenging to me. I take this challenge to explore the unrevealed spirit through every capture of mine.
I have a special affection for red. I like to take picture in the early morning and late afternoon. Unpredictably red comes to my way often. People who are living in lower rang affectionate about the colour – Red. It is important to take a red shoot carefully. Contrast might made the capture disturbing, while too much red can destroy the attention for the subject. A good composition and balancing of colour can create an outstanding shot. Apart of all it is important to discover the right mood of colour in the right temperament of an individual.
I go to country to country to explore colour differently. I have found out different colour in different cast. You will find people of power through colour. Your experiences & observations with colour will help you to reveal certain attribute of a community through colour.
– I prefer to use natural light which allows me to capture the originality of the moment of colour.
– I try to find out a natural background which suits the subject’s colour instinctively perhaps my entire colour photos are – found situation. So I believe to observe more & more while traveling frequently.
– Working with a single colour allows me to appreciate more intricate details within the subject itself.
– I travel to discover for getting the unexpected shot yet carrying the note in mind that I am searching thing which I have seen several times but never been noticed. Searching without clue for a known thing helps me to get a good colour shot.
– I only pick colour which has meaning to the subject.
“While I am taking photos of these colourful souls I am learning to live in colour. By capturing these colour moments I have learned – few hints of red, blue & yellow has inspirations in our life. People who are fighting without anything in this world are healing their pains by indulging in colour”
“When the train starts your feet will shake and you will automatically try to hold something, but there is nothing to hold on to. From 2005 I went up the train. Sitting or lying on the corroded metal roof of a train moving at 40 kilometers/hour is dangerous. By knowing that any time accident can happen you obvious to be nervous. It gives you an insecurity and makes it more risky. In that time there was no one who can tell me the rule of hanging in a running train, there was no example of photograph by which I can inspire myself to capture moments in camera. But I did not think twice to step into the slippery train and attempted to make a new series on the bravery of some insignificant heroic lives.”
Seven years ago I had to travel many times by train to come to the city. During traveling I noticed low income people were traveling in the roof of the train and even in between joining line of the train. Most of them were low wage working class and traveled with high risk of severe accident. I was surprised to the fact when I discovered few of them traveled many times of the day with life risk. For knowing the reason my interest had taken me to the root. I pick my camera and leave my seat. Thus my journey starts in the running train. I had a basic curiosity to know about people whom I intend to photograph. From beginning of my journey I work for those people who are fighting endlessly to survive without anything but a smile. For taking photo of them I blended myself into the same conditions which help me to get the insight of the story. This inquisitiveness leads me in the top of the train. And I become one of the free passenger of regular running train. Thus I got familiar with the scary situation of the fearful journey; discover people and above all I took pictures.
Uncountable times, I went to the roof of the train. Often traveling made me familiar with scariness of a running train. People become well-known to me. I find out so many different stories of people and their determination of surviving. When I manage myself to step straight then I pick my camera and start capturing my feelings. No one travel to risk their life to get pleasure. All were unable to manage travel cost as they were living under the margin. Many of those travelers work as day laborer, many of them goes for selling fishes in city which they collect from their villages. All of them have to return also. These travel costs can not manage by them so they risk their life in the top of the train.
This traveling is very addictive. When you will discover people who have power on them, who were bravely setting without caring anything the something will happen to you too. These people inspire you to live life without getting frustrated. They have nothing with them only have bravery to fight against all odds of life. So this journey put power inside me to fight in rest of my life with bravery and inspire to take any risk to live a life.
In winter surface of the train get slippery, once I stepped without been concern and attempted to fall. It is difficult to take picture in opposite of the direction of the running train. Along other passengers I have faced terrible winter, unwanted rains and continual heat in the top of the train. Many times wires hit me, every time I thought I should not go more. But again I can not resist myself. Getting a good picture is toughest thing while you need to spend days and months for the right moment and for the right click. I won travel photographer of the year title in 2009 on the series. Besides all I am fortunate to be able to stand in this fearful journey which will continually give me power for rest of my life.
“I recall all these journeys repeatedly. My achievement is that I established this series as one of favorite topic for photographers. I feel happy when I see photographers come from around the world to get a free ride in the top of the train and takes pictures. All these make me happy. I collect all these treasured moment and I am working for publishing a book soon on this series. I have to say, I am fortunate by killing fears of me to become able to go to the top of the train. There is nothing to hold on to, only your fearlessness”
After Aila attack it has been two years Khadeza Begum sold her cattle & everything to rebuild her only shelter. Now it is another nightmare for her to stay under her destroyed house after facing another devastating flood. She has no idea how she will manage to pay back all her loans, besides passing nights in this smashed house with her husband.
Kadeza Begum said:
“We have nothing left, but we have to survive, so we’ve had to build our house again, twice in two year”.
Like Kadiza Begum It takes one year to Nobab Ali for building his house after Aila attack. Again flood hits on his all effort & left him in the flooded street. After all these devastation still he is trying to get some materials from the ruined house for covering his head in the road.
Alike them all inhabitants of Shamnagar are suffering like prisoner of devastating water kingdom. Helplessness & shouts are not getting into ears of rest of the people around the world & surroundings. In all places water & the destruction of water could experience in flood affected areas of Shatkhira. Inhabitants are collecting water after walking 3 Km. as all tube well are under water & badly affected by salt.
Amina begum told:
“Here water in everywhere, even in my house there is no sign of house only water. But we are such cursed that we have no water for drinking”
After facing devastating flood every year, they are fighting to live apart loosing shelter for existing. Still they are fighting to live. They are collecting all destroyed pieces of house to shed their head. Women go for fishing. They are healing pain of each other set aside from the remaining world.
I headed to the flood affected area of Shatkhira when all those villages are under water within three days & was out of communication. Evidentially when I reached to Shamnagar sun was setting down. I was surviving in a boat & could not see surface to stand a while. With the drowning sun the village was drowning under water. People were sheltered above in roofs of their houses. Moaning of old people & shouts of children were making the atmosphere miserable.
The southern part of the country is mostly affected by rain-fed disaster. There was heavy rain all over Bangladesh but flood has affected 14 of the 64 districts in Bangladesh. In Satkhira Kobodak, Betna, Shalta and Morichhap rivers swelled abnormally over the last seven days overflowing their banks inundating 160 villages in dozens of unions in Tala, Kalarowa, Ashashuni and Sadar upazilas. Over four lakh people of 160 villages were marooned. Crops on several thousand acres land; thousands of dwelling houses, schools, mosques, markets and ponds were inundated. Over 2,000 shrimp enclosures were washed away. Families lost everything & staying night without roofs in wild weather. Incessant rain coupled with high tide triggered by depression in Bay in the last few days caused river water rising engulfing villages on their banks. No humanitarian support has been provided to the people in the most affected districts by the government, local, national and international NGOs even after 10days of water blockage. People are suffering like prisoner of devastating water kingdom. There helplessness & shouts are not getting into ear of rest of the people around the world & surroundings.
After the flood in Shatkhira, all ladies are moving for dry places by carrying their belongings. Families lost everything, passing nights without roofs in wild weather. In such a situation open air in field of water can not accommodate them for healing pains. Leaving behind everything they are moving to the city. . Hunger, helplessness & calamity force these climate refugees to the city. City welcomes them to face the uncertainty of living for their entire life time. Rootless people suffer here & there. Their tears evaporated by thirsty street of Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh.
Bangladesh is the most vulnerable country in the world, the frontline state of climate change. Mostly to say Bangladesh seems the leader of climate change. With 140 million people, Bangladesh is one of the world’s densest nations and also one of the most vulnerable to the impacts of climate change. Like much of the delta region, it floods each every year, but the flooding has been getting worse, the waters are staying longer, and contaminating the fields and the wells with salt. People in Bangladesh live precariously close to the risks of cyclones, floods and droughts and more than 100 million people live in rural areas. Two-thirds of the country is less than 5 meters above sea level and in an average year, a quarter of the country is inundated. Bangladesh has experienced severe floods every 4 to 5 years that may cover more than 60 percent of the country, resulting in significant losses. United Nations’ Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change predicted that rising sea levels could submerge 17 per cent of Bangladesh by 2050, creating 20 million “environmental refugees”.
Here is a short film on this concern – how people are facing the calamity by living their normal life behind:
Still images of this devastating flood could reveal people’s straggle & endless helplessness.
The lady is going inside her house. The flood has broken all her hope to pass a single night in serenity. After facing devastating flood every year, they are fighting to live apart loosing shelter for existing.
“I headed to the flood affected area of Shatkhira when all those villages were under water within three days & out of communication. Evidentially when I reached to Shamnagar sun was setting down. I was surviving in a boat & could not see surface to stand a while. With the drowning sun the village was drowning under water. People were sheltered above in roofs of their houses. Moaning of old people & shouts of children were making the atmosphere miserable. When I reached to the house of Khadeza Begum I closed my eyes. It took two years to rebuild the house of Khadeza after selling all her cattle as well taking huge loans after Aila attack in 2009. I was standing in front of her ruined house. The house which has been rebuilt these two years by the bravery of Khadeza. I could not answer when she was hitting me by asking why I come to take photo of her ruined house again after Aila. No one come to ask them ever how they are fighting against the will of nature. She cursed all those happy people who seat silent after hearing their news”
In 2009 Aila attacked Shatkhira area, after two years when that pain has not forgotten this place again faced the ferocious attack of flood. While in these two years affected people managed to build their destroyed home but again flood has taken last hope from them. Over four lakh people of 160 villages were marooned after the striking of flood in this 2011. Crops on several thousand acres land; thousands of dwelling houses, schools, mosques, markets and ponds were inundated. Shrimps in over 2,000 shrimp enclosures were washed away. Families lost everything & staying night without roofs in wild weather. No humanitarian support has been provided to the people in the most affected districts within the affected time of 13 days.
People were suffering like prisoner of devastating water kingdom.Helplessness & shouts are not getting into ears of rest of the people around the world & surroundings. Still they were fighting to live. They were collecting all destroyed pieces of house to shed their head. Women went to water for fishing. They were healing pain of each other set aside from the remaining world.
Hunger, helplessness & calamity force them to the city. City welcomes them to face the uncertainty of living for their entire life time. Rootless people suffer here & there. Their tears evaporated by thirsty street of Dhaka.
After discovering the insanity of nature & bravery of these sufferers I realize these people are stronger to rule their own live. If these brave people could get support of a shoulder to cry, rest of us could claim us as “Human”. I recall the statement from Helen Keller & focus my lens to capture some brave moment.
“I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something, and because I cannot do everything I will not refuse to do the something that I can do”- Helen Keller
Homeless people float near in the street of the city. By few road sides families are allowed to build their homes. Still climate refugees can not gather enough wasted digital prints, papers & bamboo for making plastic houses. Those who can not manage helplessly sleeps in open air by not letting the place empty. Everyday they collect papers for dwelling beside street.
Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh is one of the most densely populated cities of the South-Asian countries. Due to rapid urbanization process, the city is emerging as a mega-city and this trend generates numerous economic and social externalities and social cost such as deterioration of environmental quality, increased pollution and congestion. 30 to 50 percent of total Dhaka residents are Slums dwellers. Slums of Dhaka city are beset with a number of socio-environmental problems specially ‘water’ crisis.
“In slums from early morning hours passed & water pot gathered gradually. Queues of water pots & lines of people are regular scenario of the slum. Government van comes once in a day with drinking water. They have no idea exact when the van will come, so they line up their water jars & sit beside. Most of the inhabitants of these slums are climate refugees. Most of the slum dwellers stand in lines before the sun rises. After passing the long queue, knowing that this impure water causes sickness, they feel that they are fortunate. Their consolation is that at least they don’t have to leave with empty pots” – Gmb Akash
Apparently the place seems like garbage, though this is the most desired place of the inhabitants of Mirpur slum in Dhaka city. For water, in this thirsty zone queue stars near midnight. After an immense time of patience they got quiet impure water which often makes them sick. In spite of all they give a cheerful smile when they touch the water after passing the long queue. No dirty water can kill their hope & smile.
In Mirpur slum, slum dwellers have to waits hours & hours in queue for water. Children use to drink water whenever they got chance to get the pipe. Slum dwellers of Mirpur hardly get drinkable water. Bad smell & impure wastage made the water high-risk. Dhaka. Bangladesh
A woman is fighting for water. Children & ladies stand up in queue before the sun rises. Slum dwellers of Mirpur hardly get drinkable water. Bad smell & impure wastage made the water high-risk.
Rohingans living in Burmese refugee’s camp has no facilities for drinking water. A Rohingan woman is collecting drinking water from rain source. Water fall of mountain is the only source of water for them. Else they have to travel 2kilomiter for collecting that impure water.
Women have to spend several hours & travels long everyday for collecting drinking water. In Shatkhira, they have to go long distance, they usually collects water from ponds. After boiling water hardly removes salts & thus they make the water drinkable.
Children & women have to spend several hours & travels long everyday for collecting drinking water. In Shatkhira, they have to go another part of the river for collecting water. After boiling water hardly removes salts & thus they make the water drinkable.
Satkhira District is in the southwest coastal area of Bangladesh. Cyclone Aila hits 14 districts on the south-west coast of Bangladesh on the 25th May 2009. The cyclone caused 190 immediate deaths, injuries to 7,103 people, damage to 6,000 kilometers of roads, more than 1,700 kilometers of embankments to collapse, more than 500,000 people to become homeless. Because of this calamity all fields got salted & farmers become helpless. As well in Shatkhira people are not getting clean drinking water, as the water is salt affected.
Children & women have to spend several hours & travels long everyday for collecting drinking water. In Shatkhira, they have to go another part of the river for collecting water. After boiling water hardly removes salts & thus they make the water drinkable. Farmers can not produce crops because of salinity. In such a situation inhabitants lives become itself a calamity living by every day’s straggle.
The woman is going to collect water from a Tube well, which is the only tube well for seven villages. The inhabitant of char in Noyakhali has to travel 3-4 kilometers by walking to collect drinking water.
“In this corner of the world people are fighting to get a pot of drinkable water. Their lives have collapsed in need of getting a pot of fresh water. People are experiencing severe thirst which may never come to an end if “Water”- could not save by Human” Gmb Akash
‘The Vanished Native’ – Existence of Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh is tale of those people who lost their freedom of living and identity now just tagged as refugees. For living decades here we still the same plastic rapping shelter that has uncountable holes. They everyday travel miles to drink mud water. Those people are struggling to get back their honour as human not as any nation. They are considered as most unwanted people in both of the zone. Still their way of living is a message that they are just suffering well –Gmb Akash
An old Rohingya lady is taking nap in her shelter. They are not allowed to do work outside or move freely. Old people like her are struggling hard for passing their last days by doing nothing.
Decades refugee families are suffering well having only a plastic shelter. If the refugees manage to get outside the camp, they are then vulnerable to harassment by the residents of the villages surrounding the camps.
In the early 1990s, more than 250,000 people belonging to the mostly Muslim Rohingya minority escaped persecution in Myanmar by fleeing across land and river borders into Bangladesh, where most were housed in 20 camps. Their living conditions are sub-standard and they are uncertain about their future. They are living without freedom of movement, permission to work or basic human rights.
A Rohingya mother seating idle with her child. Most of the new born and children suffered from massive Malnutrition.
The experiences of violence and coercion over the years have inevitably fostered a climate of fear and distress among the refugees. They are not permitted to work. They have nothing to do to live their lives. They have no money, their husband or wives are not allowed to do any work. They are like prisoner of an open field of limited activity.
The girl belongs to the refugee group who are living without freedom of movement, permission to work or basic human rights. Besides she dreams to study, go regularly for taking part in Madrassa.
Children study the Koran (Qu’ran) in a makeshift Madrassa (Islamic school) in the Dum Dum Meah refugee camp.
The living place displays the most unprotected residence for living as human. The rapping plastic sheet which have uncountable holes surround them generation after generation. In a small place where hardly two people can live, ironically they are living more than eight people.
Two young men are making a new house in the Dum Dum Meah refugee camp. There is no change in their accommodation scenario instead of getting only holes in every rainy season.
Rohingya refugee families have to depend fully on ration. The refugees are totally dependent on the weekly distribution of food. For many, food is the only source of income, as employment is prohibited.
A Child in the Dum Dum Meah refugee camp. Here everlasting hunger, heightened vulnerability to disease, and hampered growth will only be overcome if the Rohingya refugees get enough to eat everyday. But still it is a dream to these refugees.
“Sometimes I bathe only two to three times per month because I have to save water for other member of my family”- A woman of seven member of the family were telling about the water condition.
There is just one toilet between every 10 families. Teenagers hardly go to toilet in day time. As the toilet is visible from outside because of broken doors & holes is plastic rapping areas.
“Through the damaged door everything is visible when we go to toilet. In spite of danger we young girls go to toilet when it is dark that no one could see us”- young girl of the camp named Mya
Water fall of mountain is the source of water near the Burmese refugee’s camp for Rohingyas. Rohingya families are collecting water from mountain as there is no facility of water in their camp. After 2 kilometers walking they can collect drinking water however they got sick often by this impure water source.
Besides them thousands wait, unregistered, and unsure of what their future holds. People are stateless and hopeless. They have nothing in their hands.
Rohingya families have to totally depend on ration supplies. This generates an endless cycle of food shortage as no food enters instead of only rations for them.
The boy representing the third generation of one Rohingya refugee family. They do not have any identity as nation. Despite losing everything they are fighting to get the honour as human.
“Many lives have begun in these camps in the last decades. Many will end here, too, without a birth or death certificate to prove that they ever existed. There straggle will convey message to all people who are unknown to the fact of living no where, belongs to no nation and not aware of searching identity everyday” – Gmb Akash
“Survivors” depicts the invincibility of the human spirit to survive against all odds. People who live on the edges of society have had a big impact on me and have been a great inspiration to me as a person and in my career. The existing social hierarchies have made me realize that those who live at the lowest rank on the economic ladder are the true survivors. These people are deprived of even the basic necessities of life, yet they manage to live each day with a smile on their faces. As a photographer I feel it is my task to show the world those unseen realities and to shed light on what most of us never see with our own eyes.
I have been doing my project “Survivors” for the last 10 years. In these years I tried to bring changes in some lives. But now, I moves to work on it highly by bringing the project “Survivors” in light. & lend hands to some miserable souls. Munna is one of them. Here I am revealing life & straggle of Munna – which many of you may never seen but heard many times, which many of you may imagine but never feel. Welcome to the world of a – little soldier ‘Munna’
“Born to work – A Battle of a Survivor”, First video made by me & a documentation on ‘Munna’ from the project ‘Survivors’.
‘Integrity with innocence’ this is the concrete of Munna’s character portrayal. Five years ago I first met Munna, he was same like now. He was a seven years old shy boy who never complains to anyone. At the age of five he comes to the factory. Two years he did nothing & got no money. At the age of seven, he learns & starts working. When I took his first picture his hands remarks his experiences.
Five years have passed fates of Munna & his father brings no change in their lives. Only difference is, with his five years experience Munna is getting 1600 taka ($1=72taka) per month. Moreover 12 years old Munna is running his younger sister education with his extra income of Friday overtime. His dreams confine to get more experience of hard work & made a big factory. He dreams to give good food to his family, he dreams to take them in a better place. The boy speak too less, stand always like a shadow. Whenever I took picture of him, he tried to clean his torn cloths as well hide torn areas. These little doings, little words earn respect.
20 years ago Munna’s family had come to Dhaka for better living. Time never brings any happiness in their lives. By a little donation Munna’s father bought shoe sewing materials & now he is working as cobbler. They pray that rainy season may never come. As people does not come to do shoe polish in rain time. Munna & his family are surviving in the race of life.
Like Munna around 7 million children are straggling in our country. May be it is difficult but not impossible to give hope to these 7 million children. If only every capable person lend their hands for one family.
My project “Survivors” aims to help Munna & his family. This project designed to help ten families from ten backgrounds. By little collection – a fund will hand over to Munna & his father. Munna’s father will utilize it for lifting their fates. 25% of the selling price of my book “Survivors” will give to these kinds of 10 selected families. You all are invited to stand beside Munna. Won’t you lend your hands? If your heart is moved to do so please visit “Survivors” by Gmb Akash at : http://emphas.is
“Our little help, little words, little recommendations could bring light in some dark places of this earth. ” Gmb Akash
Habitually I take my camera, leave my place and lost for long time. These unpredictable journeys never tire me. In searching of stories I traveled miles after miles, I reached many unexpected places by unplanned ways.
Location was India, a mountain near a coal mine. I was not even thinking another terrible accident was waiting for me.
Jharkand, India. One of the largest coal mines in Asia.
My main focus was low-income people; I find out these poor people who were going back to the coal mine early in the morning. They went for stealing coal & later sell in local market. Next morning I followed them quietly. I experienced they carried these heavy basket full of coals 3 to 4 kilometers from mountain. They were bare foot most were children/female from poorest families.
Jharkand, India. One of the largest coal mines in Asia.
When I reached to the top of the mountain I could not miss the chance to take photos of those workers, who were working in coal mine. One of my friend was just beside me and poked me to skip from there. Just after few minutes suddenly three men came in the place. Then hold me & my camera tightly, caught my friend as well.
Jharkand, India. One of the largest coal mines in Asia.
Those men were trying to throw me from the mountain, was scratching me to take the camera but I hold it tightly. I was literally scared but asked them to take me to their boss. They dragged me down, tore my shirt into two parts, hit my shoulders and kicked in my knee. They were dragging me to their boos which is around one & half kilometer. In the meantime of their kicks, I have changed my memory card of the images.
Jharkand, India. One of the largest coal mines in Asia.
When I meet their angry boss, I managed to tell him that I am a tourist. My hobby is photography, I took picture as in Bangladesh there is no coal mine like this. He took out my cf card and threw to a drain. I said sorry to him, bribe some money and he let me free. I was so scared, their people followed me long. When I returned to the hotel I got sick for few days. But you can not blame a photographer’s blood. I go back again in my next tour and be careful to take pictures that time.
Jharkand, India. One of the largest coal mines in Asia.
These images are stories of my own experiences. I am writing tours of my life. These journeys invite me in territories I never dream evem. Sometimes I run to save myself, sometimes I take ride in the top of the roof of the train, or I sleep in the flooded floor of village hut, I swim, I hang on, and above all I meet those souls. These adventures invites dangers. But after reaching to those people, getting permission to enter to their private door all my hard work and risks become worthy.
Destination was Bhutan. It was long hours of days and nights but I keep working. I went to finish “Survivors” Bhutan’s last part. Every country has its own smell, so has its own depth to make any stranger curious. However I meet differences between every country of the world, except “Survivors”, that is indifferent. They are geometrically located in long distance but precisely living a same life as each other. Here a short sharing to discover “Survivors” in Bhutan.
The girl belongs to the area the kala Bazar slum where most of the cleaner’s families are living. These peoples are living with garages here & there, else they made the country Bhutan a beautiful & neat city for others.
Bhutan has long been a mysterious and elusive country for the world. It is small and under populated. The economy is based on agriculture. The majority of Bhutanese are not skilled labor workers. Last time when I was in Bhutan I feel the same force to take out the right moment to capture. But as always you could never be sure either to peak the moment or let it evaporate before you understand to grab it.
The old woman was sitting in a Buddhist monastery for her prayers. Many of old women in Bhutan passes their last days near these monastery.
In early morning, the streets of Thimphu are cleaned by male & female cleaners’ everyday. Most of them live in Kala Bazar slum. Inadequate living things & continual deprivation has pause their life, not even to express their sufferings.
“I was leaving Bhutan, head was full of their straggle stories & their clam sufferings which I hardly understand. Right moment, my project “Survivors” was up is emphas.is. When I was in dilemma either I could ever be able to give back these “Survivors” loves & fulfill my liabilities at that moment I saw a board written:
“ No Dream Too Big
No Distance Too Long ”
I got my inspiration back, I stand straight . These fate less fighters inspires me to fight for them….” Gmb Akash
My identity is my photography. From the crowd of photographers, I am one who determine to dedicate everything in photography. I could never think a day will come when photography will be only reason to live my life! In my surroundings & the place I brought up no one can ever thought a boy can devote him for photography. In my environs and in the space I was brought up in no one ever thought a boy can dedicate himself for photography. Throughout my childhood I did not have access to photographers, their work, or even a camera. Photography did not exist for me in theory or in practice. I held my father’s old camera and started taking pictures unconsciously in 1997. Since then I have not stopped clicking for a single day. Every day, in every angle, in every corner of my world I keep capturing those miserable souls and kept them in heart of my camera.
“Bravery” is the most unexpected power of these children. They work 1 0hrs and more having no protection, no appreciation, no admiration but with a wide smile in their faces. In the resting time, when I took photos I asked them what they will become in future. They randomly said they want to be Doctor, engineer, pilot! I lost my words! They do not even know, the work they are doing will never take them in any of these designation they are dreaming for. One boy from them look at me and said, ‘I will be a photographer like you, will take picture when my boss beats my friend’. I use to close my eyes often in between the conversation.
When I was leaving the working place of children, I ask them what they want to eat. For them bread is the most delicious food. When I back from the place my soul left heavy. After I got Vevey International photography grants in 2010, with some money I bought new dresses and went to them. Happy faces of 65 children, their shouts, their joys, their hugs I even can feel now when I am writing. I could not resist tears for giving them these simple cloths and after receiving their unconditional love makes me so much small.
18 months old Khadeja was suffering from diarrhea in Rayer Bazar slum. Her parents kept her under the sun to ironically cure her. Her condition was bad & malnutrition made it worst. Her parents were no where found near to ask the explanation.
Women protect themselves from the rain at a tea plantation where they work near the village of Elkaduwa. Tea is one of the country’s main export crops. sri lanka, Matale District
“It was rainy season. Female workers of Srilanka were rushing to their work place. I was rushing with them. These ladies were bare foots, clothes were thin. I was wondering how whole day they will work. Suddenly I felt something beating near my knee. I ignored and keep clicking. When I could not bear any more I hurried back to my hotel. I found louse beating. It was bleeding, and I got sick. When I was suffering from pain I recall those ladies who were bare foots & thus they works everyday!”
My friends started calling me “Hijra” Undoubtedly it was shocking for me but I didn’t stop working on trans-genders. It was way too distance to reach as nobody worked before me on this community. It took years to get entry to their door. I patiently keep trying. Mixed with them, talked to them, took gift for them. I tried to understand the basics of their lives. Their ways of life makes them strange characters and granted as alien in the society. Instead of getting warmth from the society, they receive hatred and contempt. Few among them were forced to leave school because of their classmates’ negative attitude towards their feminine behaviors. Their lack of education has so far deprived them of information and any scope of communication with trans-genders all over the world. So they confine themselves to their own small community. They engage themselves in merriment, singing, dancing and thereby hiding their struggles and worries in laughter. After several years of working, I go to the depth of their lives. People laugh at me, make fun of me. But when I meet with them their warmth of admiration give me the courage to depict them in my frame.
In district hospital Accham every day people come to get treatment for HIV. To reach in this remote hospital I have to travel several days. Even people who come for treatment walk two days or more. In those villages you can hardly find male member of the family. In every family some one died in this disease. They have no work there, so they go to India for long time. They bring HIV unconsciously when they come back. Even some ladies come to know that they are HIV positive after of their husband’s death. Their painful stories of surviving could hardly reach to the top.
15 year old Masura Begum at the Fistula Treatment Centre in the Dhaka Medical College Hospital. Masura developed a fistula after an unsuccessful abortion operation was carried out after she was raped. Over 71,000 women live with fistula in Bangladesh, with the World Health Organisation estimating over 2.5 million cases worldwide. The UNFPA have trained 45 doctors and 30 nurses to treat the disability at the centre in Dhaka. Obstetric fistula, which can occur after days of obstructed labour, is both treatable and preventable, yet it carries with it a huge stigma, and can have devastating consequences, usually killing the baby and leaving the woman with chronic incontinence. Dhaka
Liza is an old sex worker in Tangail brothel. In early childhood her step mother sold her to the brothel. She forgot their name, faces & even where she born. She admire when some one took her photo. When I was taking her photo & listen to her story, this hard hearted lady broke out in tears. She lost her young age, clients hardly come to her. She has no one, without this brothel she has no place to go. Now she works as maid for other sex workers. She was crying in thought of why god punishes her this way. She lost her childhood, she never got love in her life now in old age she has to rotten in this brothel. That time first I thought of buying sewing machines for these kinds of old sex workers. At least they could find a self respect at the end of their lives!
“I am working on old home past many years. “Kontinente” a German magazine published my work on Nepal old home. That old home even did not have sources to give two times food to those old inhabitants. After knowing the fact many people come forward to help them. We raised sufficient fund through mother Teresa Home. When a mother said “I waits for you my child as just like I waits for my son” I feel little. We still keep working for all those great hearts”
“I am in an endless journey towards an infinite route, only to find a real world of humanity. This thirst is eternal. I will keep walking, touching every face I meet by my lens. I will show the world – those unknown stories of sufferings. If a single hand comes to give them a shade then that is the real honor of my sweat” – Gmb Akash
“I see the beauty of people and the human soul in the pictures I take. And though the circumstances of some of the people I portray may be grim, back-breaking, depraved, the people themselves are always remarkable characters and souls” Gmb Akash
17.5 percent of all children aged between 5-15 are engaged in economic activities. The average child labourer earns between 400 to 700 taka (1 USD = 70 taka) per month
“He laughs, he run & his eyes sparks like any other kids we see around us. When they spend hours after hours under pressure to become one of capable member of their family, they start to diminish. Poor families have to send their child to face the cruel world by sending them in factories, streets instead of school. Little children start to know the world by sleeping in the street, breaking bricks or carrying sands” Gmb Akash
Shilu works separating sand and stone. At least 10,000 people, including 2,500 women and over 1,000 children, are engaged in stone and sand collection from the Bhollar Ghat on the banks of the Piyain River. Building materials such as stone and sand, and the cement which is made from it, are in short supply in Bangladesh, and commands a high price from building contractors. The average income is around 150 taka (less than 2 USD) a day. Jaflong, Sylhet
Rahman (12) is beating by the owner of the textile factory. His job is sewing children t-shirt. In the mean time of work he was slow to deliver, that’s why he hit by the owner. He earns $1 by ten hrs of work in a day. Dhaka. Bangladesh
13 years old Fatema is getting older with the experience of carrying brick for construction sites. She has to take materials for construction firms & moves up to sixth floor with all those heavy materials all day long. She got 1500 tk per month for carrying countless buckets from morning to noon. Surprisingly, this 13 years girl represents herself way too older than her real age. Dual shade of her face, displaying the lost child in the reality of surviving. Dhaka. Bangladesh
Tired Motalib (12) was taking rest in the sand field of Jaflong, Sylhet. Before sun shine he starts to collect stones in his basket. In sunset when the contractor counts stones & fix money in order, he gets some time to relax. He can take 35-40 tk when he leaves the field. While he looked into the camera his sweat & sand covered body defeated by his curious eyes & innocent smile.
Nine years old Shakil’s job is to make balloons. In the time of making these colorful toys, he himself mixes by those powder ingredients. His has done his works usually after the sunset. If any balloon is not fit to sell then the seller gives it to him. He keeps it for his young sister because he usually didn’t get any time to play. He gets 700 tk for a whole month of working, Dhaka.
“I want to deliver their voices to all of you & their hidden pain & cries. If any of you spend one second in a thought to help or even a prayer for them is the reward of all hard work” Gmb Akash
“All the time the heartless scenario, people sufferings & my inner emptiness had frozen my finger to click. But with all those sorrows in expression accompanied by smile when they give a look, they push me to overcome anything. & then my clicks never take a break” Gmb Akash
These are the hands of Alamin, 11 years old brick field worker who starts work from 5am. Smoke & ashes covers Alamin’s whole body but works never cover a smile in his face. He carries brick from the field to kiln. He usually carries 4 bricks at a time top of his head. per brick is almost 2.5 kg in weight. For 1000 bricks the workers get 80 Tk. Alamin covered with smoke & ashes, at the same time he carries 400 bricks a day in cost of his fadedness. His family comes from Kishorgonj with their three children and all of them are selling their childhood costing per day nearly 80Tk.
“No one has the time to listen them, they are mostly unseen human. I tell their stories, depicts their emotions, steal their sorrows in my frame…if these stories ever touch your heart please feel free to share ….your sole help can even awaken people to bring their hands to these lost souls..” Gmb Akash
GMB AKASH 
