Whenever I fly to Dhaka, I always feel like I have returned to my one real home.
From up in the air, I can see acres of green fields, little huts, ponds, and our ubiquitous coconut palms, and mango and jackfruit trees. Then come the multi-storied buildings of all colours and styles, beginning from Mirpur, going on to Uttara and further to Gulshan; all the signs of a sprawling, crawling city.
Most of the passengers are so eager to disembark and see their loved ones that they stand up and start reaching for their hand luggage well before the plane has even touched the tarmac of the runway, deaf to the crew’s pleas to remain in their seats until the aircraft has come to a complete stop. There is always a frantic rush toward the exit and on to the immigration desks, where they jostle each other to gain priority.
While walking down the corridor towards immigration, I see long lines of people waiting to board the next flights to the Middle East. They look so innocent and hopeful, and are so clearly unaware of what awaits them. They have probably sold their land or used family savings to pay manpower agents to get them jobs overseas.
In many cases, they do not know the conditions under which they will work and live. Their passports will probably be taken away on arrival at their destination. Then will begin the long working hours in brain-searing desert temperatures, under pitiable living conditions, and receive disrespectful treatment of the sort that no human being should have to endure.
Yet, these workers are one of our greatest assets and among the largest contributors to our national prosperity. They leave their homes and loved ones behind to work honestly in a foreign land and remit approximately $20 billion to our country, the second highest of our foreign exchange earnings sources.
More fortunate Bangladeshis have also taken many kinds of jobs in Europe. In Spain and Italy, for example, I have seen them working as porters, small shopkeepers, servers, and extremely skilled sous chefs in fine restaurants. They are honest, hardworking, and constructive members of society.
There are others here at home that demand our respect: The man in the bazaar who runs up a fine mattress for you in a matter of hours, the cobbler sitting on the pavement repairing our worn-out shoes and sandals, the man who comes around every week to sharpen our grinding stones and mortars, the man with a basket of chickens on his head, the vegetable peddler with his cart of fresh produce. All honest folk plying their age-old trades, modest in price, high in quality, and service with a smile.
But, most of all, I respect the rickshaw-pullers. These men labour for a pittance, winter and summer, rain or shine. Sometimes, all they have to protect them from the rain is a plastic grocery bag on their heads. I have seen three grown men sitting on a rickshaw pulled by one thin man , his muscles straining with the effort, and pedalling upright in order to be able to carry the passengers forward.
We undervalue the sheer endurance, patience, and fatalism of these folk. They have no choice but to soldier on. For them, life truly is nasty, brutish, and short.
Bangladeshi women are the cornerstone of our thriving garment export industry and form the core of all rural development programs. They have proven themselves to be able managers at all levels, shrewd and capable enough to deal with almost any issue, provided they are given agency.
In the cities, women have been working in banks, large national and international organizations, in the legal profession, academia, the airlines, and other major businesses for years.
Recently, in government, a woman was appointed secretary of finance, another appointed secretary of the economic relations division, while yet another brilliant woman diplomat has just been made an under secretarygeneral in the United Nations.
Most unique and impressive is our Bangladeshi woman, Wasfiya Nazreen, who, having climbed Mount Everest, has now embarked on an expedition to climb Mount K2, the second highest mountain peak in the world, which is also universally acknowledged to be the most difficult and dangerous mountain to climb in the world.
Although these last two years have been difficult for economics all over the world, I have no doubt that things will change for the better.
In spite of some drawbacks, Bangladesh will continue on its upward trajectory in terms of development, a commendable achievement in a world where things seem to be taking a turn for the worse, economically speaking, in so many other places.
Over the years, we have weathered cyclones, floods, rains, and storms. For us, this challenging phase, too, shall pass.
Nasrin Sobhan is a freelance writer.