My favourite memories from university life are different from what I’d thought they would be. Despite cherishing the times with my class friends, the programs, the colourful celebrations, birthdays, my most favourite recollections remain those afternoons under our botgaachh, sitting on the green grass together as a family, and enjoying each other’s company more than anything else. It was our bot-tolar school family, as we called it.
It was a school for street children, started by Firoz bhai in an attempt to free children from the chains of poverty. Joining Firoz bhai, the devoted teachers included Zainab apu, a medical foreign student who is exceptionally kind to any Bangladeshi in need, Arnob, the youngest of us, without whom we couldn’t imagine this small family of ours, and Mrinmoyee apu, who had been by Firoz bhai’s side when he first took on this endeavour. Other family members include Nadira apu, Mohsin bhai, Shimanto, and anyone who loved the children enough to not be able to stay away from them.
Ever since my first year, I saw these children around campus selling sweets, flowers, relentlessly trying to earn some money, sometimes even begging. Their innocent faces made me yearn to get to know them and their stories. All they crave is a bit of affection, and if you give them some, they’ll love you with all their heart. They told me about their school and it was Saddam and Monowar who led me there on a humid afternoon during my second year.
After that first afternoon, I kept going back. I couldn’t resist the magic of that place, and so I became a part of the family too. School was held on Sundays, Wednesdays, and Fridays -- I’d find myself waiting all week for those days to come.
At school, we’d teach the children to write, to read, and basic things like days of the week, how to tell time, how to count money, etc. Firoz bhai even took up teaching them the basics of karate once, so that they could defend themselves against abuse.
We had sports days, days we sang, days when we merely shared thoughts, and days the children watched Tom and Jerry shows on Firoz bhai’s laptop. The most important thing I think the children took away from those lessons in our bot-tolar school is the belief that they too can dream.
“What’s the use in us dreaming? We’ll just be selling chocolates all our life,” one of them once said, which broke my heart. Had money become so powerful that these little children couldn’t even dare to dream, eyes sparkling with excitement as they did? We tried to teach the children to believe in themselves and in their dreams too. And in the attempt to help them dream, we found our dreams too -- our dreams of making their dreams come true.
The children opened up to us when they realised that we wanted the best for them -- having someone want the best for them is something not as common and natural for them as it is for us. Many people get annoyed by them, they think that giving them money means spoiling them. Not everyone understands that these children are just victims of circumstances.
They are what they are because that is the only way they know how to be. They beg because they are taught to do that. They have the same desires to play, run, and jump, just like children from solvent families do. The next time you see them, spend two minutes and show them you care. Let yourself be mesmerised by how easily they give away their love at the slightest touch of warmth.
How I stumbled into this family of ours was quite unlikely. It’s an experience I feel blessed to have been given. It strengthened my belief that, no matter how much money or fame a person can get, nothing compares to the satisfaction of doing something selfless for someone else’s happiness. It made me crave opportunities for selfless deeds instead of riches and recognition. It made me want to study harder so that one day I could be a voice of change for these children in need.
The children and the friends I made in school helped me get to know myself more. It was here that I met Sarah, Rebecca, Jane, Teresa, Didi, and Kyle, who were visiting Bangladesh as part of their mission to spread humanity and who are till now some of the most caring people I’ve met. They, along with Firoz bhai, Zainab apu, and Arnob taught me how to be more selfless in a world where nobody does anything unless they are benefited.The selfless mentality of these people has not only touched me but has also made me believe that the future holds tremendous promise as long as such people exist.
We didn’t receive any certificates or payment for our services. What we got out of the entire experience was more priceless than any of that. Not only has it added unimaginably to our souls, but it has also ignited passion in our hearts and has united us in the pursuit of that passion.
Maybe the world won’t remember us, but these children will. The way we’ve tried to change their lives means the world to these children, whom most people don’t give a second thought about. And so, I felt in my heart that this story should not have remained untold. It is the story of how it’s not always about money for the children and not always about filling up CVs for us. It’s about that feeling of belonging somewhere and the bliss of dreaming big. For it is what brings us together under the shade of that life-changing botgaach again and again.
