A sad story from Bangladesh

Kabir Hossain was still teary eyed when he related his story to me one day in Dhaka when we were caught in a massive traffic jam. I had just arrived from Bangkok and he was the driver of the limousine from the Sheraton Hotel who was sent to meet me at the airport.

"To think that just two years ago, I thought I was the happiest man in Bangladesh!" he started his story with a sad voice.  "I have a job I enjoy, as a driver of Sheraton Hotel in this capital city of Dhaka. I feel proud in my starched brown uniform, and my job is to meet hotel guests, mostly business people at the airport and ferry them to the hotel and vice-versa when they are ready to catch their flights home. I meet many nice people and I learn a lot from them", he continued.  

He wished the public transport in Bangladesh could be better. He has to commute daily to work, a tedious 20 km journey in one of those dirty and stuffy old buses, which is often late and always over-crowded! There were days when he had to stand all the way, squeezed between passengers. That is why he made it a point to wake up an hour earlier so that he is never late for his morning shift and still have time to polish the hotel limousine before he starts his routine. 

The other reason why Kabir was so happy was because his much-loved 20-year old daughter, Alisha had just got married. It was a love relationship, rare in Bangladesh where traditionally, marriages are arranged by parents, but Kabir is different. He is a Christian and the man Alisha had fallen in love with, was also a Christian; so no dowry was discussed by both families, just the conventional presents and a dinner attended by family members and friends. Alisha looked the radiant young bride, happy and excited to start a new life with her husband.

After the wedding, as tradition goes, Alisha went to stay with her husband and his family in Chittagong, a port city south-east of Dhaka, an 8-hour journey by bus from the capital. To Kabir, Alisha seemed happy in the fist year of her marriage. She blended in well with her in-laws and would phone Kabir every week telling him how she had learned new recipes to cook for the family.

Then the phone-calls became less frequent and eventually stopped. Kabir wondered what had happened until a frantic, desperate call came in one afternoon from Alisha. "Papa, they beat me and have locked me in a small room and do not allow me to go out!"  "Why?" Kabir asked, shocked.  "Why did they do this to you? Where is your husband?" he asked.  "He is also with them now", Alisha replied choking and crying. Kabir knew at once that the in-laws, together with Alisha's husband had turned against her. They were now demanding a large sum of money as dowry! Kabir tried to reason with them, explaining his financial situation; that as a driver, he did not have the money they demanded. He pleaded with them to allow the young couple to live their lives since they were so happy together. The other party refused to budge.

Kabir did not know what to do. He tried to borrow money from his relatives and friends...but time was not on his side. A week later, news came from Chittagong that his Alisha; his gentle, kind-hearted, cheerful young daughter had hung herself in her room!

What followed in the ensuing months were hazy; the autopsy, the funeral, his wife collapsing in grief, his son became quiet and refused to talk to anyone. Deep inside him, Kabir knew his daughter did not take her own life. He suspected foul play and lodged a complaint to the police in Chittagong. When the police report came back in piece-meal form and eventually confirming that it was suicide, Kabir knew that his in-laws had bought over the police. He did not have the financial muscle to fight them. Still angry and hurt, Kabir engaged a lawyer to bring his in-laws to court; but for a year, his case was still pending a trial.  Every month he had to take the 8-hour long journey to Chittagong, only to be told each time that his case had to be postponed as there were too many other cases for the Court to deal with. At the same time, his lawyer was demanding payment for consultation and each visit to the court.  

"It's all about corruption in this country", Kabir said bitterly, as our car made a turn towards the Sheraton Hotel. "You can even buy justice if you have the money"! In the end Kabir gave up pursuing the case as it was a drain on his emotions, his family and his finances. "I just have to live with it", he ended his story sadly, with tears in his eyes. We had been in the traffic jam for three hours, and if anything, I had hoped that by lending a listening ear to his grief and regrets, he would feel better.

Poor Kabir. He still works for Sheraton Hotel, but his life has changed forever. His wife suffers from depression and needs daily medication which put a strain on his monthly income. His teenage son, once active and playful had become withdrawn, closing  himself away from family and friends. His studies had suffered and Kabir is worried for his future. 

I do not have to explain the dowry system here; but I hope that more stringent and unsparing laws can be enacted to punish those who are found guilty of causing the deaths of young brides, many of whom suffered horrific ill-treatment before their deaths. The perpetrators of these heinous crimes are  senseless people, full of greed, with hatred in their hearts. They forget that they too have mothers, sisters and daughters and if they can do such evil acts, they are as good as savage beasts; ignorant that what they did will cause endless pain and sufferings to the families concerned, just like in Kabir Hossain's case. 

How can anyone ever live with that?  

                       
                    Man has reason, discrimination and free will.
                    The brute has no such thing, and knows no distinction
                    between virtue and vice, good and evil.
                    Man when he follows his baser nature, 
                    can show himself lower than the brute.   

                                                     -Mahatma Gandhi-