Weekend-5-16

special feature | migration
In hindsight, Jillur feels he shouldn't have left at all
Opportunities for the wellconnected
Sadmanur Rahman’s oldest brother went to
the UK in 2002, and easily found irregular
work at a restaurant. He would send Tk40,000
to 50,000 back home every month after
comfortably meeting his expenses, and even
putting away some savings.
Over the years, the family paid off their
loans, dug a pond (for fish farming), got one
son married and bought land adjacent to their
village home in Kulaura in Moulvibazar. The
house itself, formerly a four-bedroom home
with one bathroom, was expanded so that it
now has 10 rooms and four bathrooms.
Despite the added income, Sadman feels
that his prospects in Bangladesh are bleak.
“To get a [government] job [in Bangladesh]
you have to pay a bribe. You have to have a
‘big brother’ who will recommend you for a
post.” The bachelor’s degree he just completed
thus holds little value.
Sadman says his fellow graduates have
the same problem. “My peer who has a 4/4
average, is earning in France, he has given up
studying altogether.”
Studies show that a relatively small portion
of income from migrant family members is
invested in business. Political corruption is
a major deterrent. “Before starting anything
locally one has to think, do I have any political
support?” says Sadman.“Otherwise you have
to pay bribes to local political leaders and
bureaucrats until there’s nothing left.”
“I would not say that migration is due
to our economy being particularly weak,”
says Dr Siddiqui. “Our overall political and
socioeconomic reality is that from within the
system, there is no way to reach the top. You
have to have political connections.”
Which leaves those who don’t have any such
connections, like Jillur, Sadman, and Kamal,
short of options.
Tough luck
Jillur’s upbeat demeanour belies his enormous
disappointment.
He says he knew well what the risks
were, having had many friends who had
attempted to get to Europe and a few who had
succeeded.
“Everyone has to die someday. This way if
they succeed, they become heroes; if they die,
they become martyrs.”
“The agents always tell you that it’s going
to be very comfortable. They told me an airconditioned
bus would take me across the
desert.”
Instead, for three days he was crammed
with over a hundred people from Bangladesh
and various African countries in the back of
a truck. “There was one person beneath me
and another person on my lap. It was difficult
to breathe.” With the sun beating down, two
Bengalis and two North Africans died of heat
and exhaustion on that trip.
Upon entering Libya, Jillur found himself
trapped in a lawless country embroiled in
Photo: Courtesy
civil strife between countless armed factions.
“Twelve and 13-year-old kids roam around
with guns. There is no justice if they kill you.”
Friends he made were abducted by armed
factions or miscreants seeking ransoms.
Finding work in Libya was the easy part.
“There’s a lot of work to be done,” says Jillur.
“But you never knew if and when you were
going to get paid.”
“There is no functional justice system so
there was nothing we could do if we didn’t get
paid.”
Eventually Jillur gathered up enough money
to pay for his passage to Italy. But he lost it all
in a robbery. Attackers kicked in the door to
his apartment and sprayed it with bullets. “If
we had not been lying down, we should surely
have been shot. The walls were completely
pockmarked.” Then they looted the apartment
and took everything.
Afraid and penniless, Jillur called his former
employer who lent him 1.5 lakh to get on a
plane back to Bangladesh.
Jillur now works for his former employer for
a better wage than he had before. He supports
his wife and two children, and chips away
slowly at his debt.
“I can tell you my story, but nobody will
understand my pain.” says Jillur, “To this day, I
think about my debt before buying fish. I often
forego meat for daal or spinach.”
“My dream house has remained a dream.”•
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WEEKEND TRIBUNE | FRIDAY, AUGUST 11, 2017