the poor have a name and a story!

urban poverty in bangladesh

Disclaimer The Deutsche Gesellschaft fr Technische Zusammenarbeit (GTZ) GmbH is providing technical cooperation to the Enhancing Municipal Governance Project to help develop the capacities of pourashavas (municipalities) to monitor urban poverty and effectively address the needs of the urban poor. The Urban Partnerships for Poverty Reduction Project (UPPR) is improving the livelihoods and living conditions of 3 million poor and extreme poor people, especially women and children, in six City Corporations and 24 pourashavas. The Programme is executed by the Government of Bangladesh, managed by UNDP, assisted by UNHABITAT, and funded primarily by UKAID. The stories in this publication do not necessarily reflect the opinion of the Deutsche Gesellschaft fr Technische Zusammenarbeit (GTZ) GmbH nor that of the UPPR or its partners. The content expresses exclusively the opinion of the respective authors. Written by: Nicola Banks, Carolin Braun, Juan Carvajal, Sonu Rani Das, Nadia Tavares-Goodman, Toni Kaatz-Dubberke, Kirthi Ramesh, Sayaka Uchikawa, Lenka Vojtov. Design by: Lenka Vojtov Photographs taken by: Nicola Banks, Carolin Braun, Juan Carvajal, Toni Kaatz-Dubberke, Sayaka Uchikawa, Lenka Vojtov Copy deadline: March 2010 Link to the blog: http://urbanpovertyinbangladesh.blogspot.com In cooperation with: Center for Urban Studies (CUS) Dhaka Published by:

foREwoRD of THE SUPPoRTING AGENCIES

March 2010

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The urban poverty blog emerged in 2008 out of the interest of writing about the life of the urban poor in Bangladesh. It has been on the internet for 18 months now. we would like to congratulate the group of authors that started this initiative and contributed to the blog and ultimately to this booklet you hold in your hands. The initiators were German students, who came to Bangladesh for the first time to do an internship in the area of Good Urban Governance. The strong impressions they had during their field work became a driving force to report on what they had witnessed. Exposed to the life in the slums of Bangladesh, they did not concentrate on the less-than-ideal conditions in which people lived in, but rather on their daily routine, their areas and places of living, their struggles, their hopes and fears. The initiative was then taken up by newcomers in 2009 and also by young researchers, who were invited to blog. Their blog demonstrates that they have gotten very close to the people that are anonymously labeled as the target group in Development Cooperation jargon. The faces, destinies and day-to-day joys and worries described here help us to see the slum dwellers in a different light, and highlight the individuals behind the numbers. The blog does not claim to tell the one true story about the life in slums, but its does contribute a few more facets of the whole picture. The blog provides a better understanding of the life of the urban poor - for those distant to the slums, but also for those like us who work to improve living environments and access to services, improve livelihoods and increase assets, and ensure the rights of the poor. It helps to understand the complex reality of the challenge of urban poverty. In this way, the blog is both an attempt to communicate personal impressions and to create new knowledge. Now, after two years of writing, the publication of this blog as a booklet will help disseminate these insights, with hopes that more people will start to care about the situation of the urban poor in Bangladesh. As a next step, with the enabling support of GTZ and the Urban Parnerships for Poverty for Reduction Project, the slum dwellers themselves will start to write their own stories. There are millions of stories to tell, and as many people that can tell them. Let us listen to them. Alexander Jachnow GTZ Principal Advisor Good Urban Governance Richard Geier International Programme Manager Urban Partnerships for Poverty Reduction Project iii

CoNTENT

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foreword of the supporting agencies ............................... ii I. Dhaka ............................... 1 Earning a living in Dhakas slums ............................... 2 Smelly bargaining chips ............................... 6 Three hundred taka! ............................... 10 An oasis of calm and space in Dhakas biggest slum ............................... 14 Living beside the tracks ............................... 16 II. Narayanganj ............................... 19 The meaning of red colors in the Deara poor community ............................... 20 Creating space vertically ............................... 22 The threat of flames ............................... 24 Looking for the best cook in town ............................... 28 Sonus story ............................... 32 Sonus story told by herselves ............................... 34 Recycling ............................... 36 III. Jamalpur ............................... 39 Myths of migration ............................... 40 IV. Mymensingh ............................... 43 Sand business ............................... 44 United in poverty ............................... 48 Credits ............................... 52 The authors ............................... 53

I. DHAKA
Dhaka is the fastest growing megacity in the world with an estimated 300,000 to 400,000 new migrants mostly poor - arriving every year in the capital city. Its population is currently around 14 million and is projected to grow to 20 million in 2020, making it the worlds third largest city. Most migrants come from rural areas in search of opportunities which can provide new livelihood options for millions, potentially translating into improvements of living standards. Their contribution to Dhakas economic growth is significant, as they provide much needed labor to manufacturing, services, and other sectors. This migration, however, adds tremendous strain on the already crowded city with limited inhabitable land in conjunction with limited access to infrastructure.
Source: The Worldbank (2007): Improving Living Conditions for the Urban Poor. Dhaka.

EARNING A LIVING IN DHAKAS SLUMS

September 2009 Nicola Banks

The use of the word slum has too often been used as a term that instantaneously strips the dignity from the millions of people who live in these areas, and who regardless of their living conditions live proud and humble lives living in circumstances in which we ourselves would never be able to survive. from the outside, low-income settlements look primarily like residential areas, row upon row of corrugated iron shacks squeezed tightly together on top of poorly-serviced land. Even the smallest of settlements is having a few tea shops and grocery stalls to serve the local residents. A deeper investigation into employment among the urban poor in four low-income settlements of Dhaka, however, revealed the number and variety of businesses and enterprises through which people forge their livelihoods and struggle to improve their households. The more expected businesses to come across in urban poor communities are the stalls and shops serving the communities with all their daily needs. The size and variety of market shops in Karail, the biggest low-income settlement in Dhaka, was surprising, however. A huge

Rhuma sits in her tailors shop, through which she supports her family. Her husband is ill and unable to work regularly, so she is the main-income earner in her household.

and bustling market lies at the centre of the settlement, selling not only fresh and dry foods, flours and rice, but also saris and lungis, jewellery, make-up, and even some electronics goods. In some busy areas this stretches to pharmacies, tailors, rickshaw garages, restaurants, and more. The most unexpected businesses however, are not visible from the main footpaths of the settle-

ments, and you only find them when you set foot in some of the houses off the beaten track. walking through a gate in our first settlement we came across such a business, greeted by the sight of a small courtyard, or uthan, taken up by three large cows. we discovered dairy farmers, who supported their households by rearing and breeding cows, and by sales of milk and dung. 3

In a nearby settlement, we came across an even more unexpected sight, walking into a room in which 15 or 20 women were sitting around baskets of human hair, untangling it and sorting it into different lengths. The businessman, Mustak Ahmed, bought hair from beauty parlours across the city, sorted and cleaned it, and then sold it on to national and international buyers, for up to 10,000 taka a kilogram. Not only had he expanded his business greatly, he was also providing employment and relatively good wages for a large number of women in the community. These success stories sounds like a golden path, but unfortunately do not extend to all. The majority of poor households cannot save the capital required to start-up and run a small business. In other cases, rising costs were destroying peoples business prospects.

One of Mustak Ahmeds cul baccha (hair selectors), who refine and sort lengths of hair. He employs 15 women, who are better for this kind of work with their small fingers.

As a regular sight, women are outside of their rooms embroidering salwar kameez, a flexible job which allows them to supplement their household income at the same time as looking after their children and household duties. It was still a surprise, however, to step into one room and to see large-scale embroidery businesses to be running in two adjacent rooms of one settlement. Stepping through the door we could not 4

miss the large sari stretched across a large embroidery frame with around 10 or 15 children sitting around it and adorning it with sequins and other embroideries. In this settlement there were three such embroidery businesses through which households were slowly improving their household income and integrating with the outside economy where they sold their saris.

Ibrahim (back right) displays one of his finished saris, which he sells outside the settlement to middle-income commercial areas. He has ten boys living and working with him in his house here. He has been running the business for the last year, and has improved his household in this time. >>

SMELLy BARGAINING CHIPS

May 2009 Nadia Tavares-Goodman & Toni Kaatz-Dubberke

Officially, Dhaka has around 14 million inhabitants. It is estimated that three million people live in poor urban settlements all over the city, facing a lack of public services and facilities. often the houses of the urban poor are illegally built on land without having legal tenure, which makes it difficult for residents to claim their basic rights. Authorities, such as the Dhaka City Corporation, often ignore the illegality of their situation, given that the work done by many of the residents of poor urban settlements is essential to the efficient functioning of the city. Unfortunately, it seems that without any pledge in their hands the urban poor have nothing to bargain for the fulfillment of their basic rights. Poor communities and minority groups thus need to find niches that make them indispensable to the authorities. Aware of it, the Telugu community found a way to claim their rights in order to improve their living conditions. The Telugu people are of Indian origin (Andhra Pradesh) with their own language. In Bangladesh most of them are predominantly low-caste Hindus or Christians. As a severe drought made it impossible to maintain their live on agriculture in

the late 1940s the British colonial rulers came up with a smelly offer. If they would move to Dhaka to work as sweepers, they would get housing and food security, the British promised. Without big options our ancestors agreed and moved to Dhaka in 1947, John Sander, one of the local Telugu leaders tells us. The city needed sweepers, people who deal with all kinds of waste produced in a large city, work that is traditionally done by low-caste groups, such as the Untouchables. The combination of drought, low-class status and the need for waste services in East Bengal led to the establishment of the citys small Telugu Colony. They began by cleaning the streets and collecting large pots of human waste, work that the Muslim majority refused to do for religious reasons (it is deemed unacceptable for Muslims to have direct contact with faeces). Eventually, they became fourth grade employees of the Dhaka City Corporation. Their appointment to the DCC and their willingness to do a dirty job that no one else wanted to do, have made them valuable members of society, despite their low social status. This value, however, was not always recognized

The entrance of a Telugu community in southeast Dhaka.

by the Muslim majority who refused to rent houses to low-class sweepers because the job and thus the people who are doing it were seen as dirty. As Dhaka began to grow phenomenally after Independence in 1971, the rapid pace of urban development forced the Telugu community to move repeatedly, getting a new place to live every 7

time. Eventually, in 1979, the community was divided and one group settled in Dhalpur ward in the southeast outskirts of the city. Ironically, this Telugu community settled on top of an old garbage collection site where for years sweepers had been dumping the waste they collected. Despite the fact that there were no written agreements with the authorities who had brought them here and promised them housing and food, their employer, the DCC, provided them with simple dwellings of bamboo and tin, as well as toilets and access to piped water. The Telugu did not have access to basic infrastructural facilities, however: sweepers were denied education on the basis that it was extraneous to the work they did. An NGO fills this gap since the 1980s. At the beginning of 1996, the Telugu community had little access to electricity in their settlement. Candles were used to provide light to huts of tin sheet with wooden roofs. That year, most likely as a result of the fragile construction of the houses, a fire burned down more than half of the settlement. fortunately there were no human casualties because almost residents came together to watch a mo8

vie at the only TV place at that night. Left homeless, they approached their local elected ward Commissioner for support, recognizing their importance to the citys authorities. The Commissioner used his influence to lobby the Mayor of DCC for the construction of suitable low-cost housing, from bricks to avoid that another fire can be that harmful to the settlement again. This argument combined with a pointer on their importance for the citys maintenance convinced. over a period of seven to eight months, new houses were constructed for over 120 families. Even the NGo-run school was rebuilt. Some improvements needed to be made by the families themselves later on, but the basic houses and all services were provided free of charge. Nowadays the situation for the Telugu community is changing. Since the system of pots was replaced by a sewage canal system in the late 1970s the direct contact with faeces was reduced. This slightly attracted other parts of the society. Also Muslims are now working as sweepers. Their attitude towards this job seems to change: to be a sweeper is not longer seen only as nasty but also as secured business.

As under the British and the Pakistani rule, until today the agreement has always been in place. However, important to mention is that these promises were only made orally and were never written down. The aim had never been to integrate them into society, but to use their disadvantaged place in it. The community never got the legal ownership of the houses and the land they are living on is still DCC property. Therefore the danger of eviction becomes current. Life can change rapidly, if the authorities once feel that they do not need the Telugu communitys service anymore. Still at least one member of each family is working for the DCC and we hope that we can going on working with them. But we also recognize the increasing importance of our childrens education for their future perspectives, says John Sander.

Cleaning their own place: most members of the Telugu community are still working as Sweepers. >>

THREE HUNDRED TAKA!

July 2009 Sayaka Uchikawa

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An estimated 1 to 1.5 million of those children who do not go to school but work reside in Dhaka. Many boys work at a shop (car/rickshaw garage, market, tailor, tea stall, etc.) from early as 7 or 8am in the morning to as late as 12am at night. They take orders from customers and do whatever they are told to do. Most of the girls, on the other hand, work as domestic workers/servants, and do cleaning, washing, and/or taking care of small children in a house. Some children say that they like working, and are willing to work, while some say they do not like their job and want to quit. Despite the diversity of childrens work in Dhaka, outsiders sometimes quickly judge and define their work as so-called child labor, usually with the negative implications. Much literature, for example, writes about so-called child laborers and working children in Dhaka to suggest that: they are disadvantaged, vulnerable, and subject to economic exploitation; their work is unsafe, unhealthy, dangerous, and poisonous; and, they are trapped in low skilled and low return work that pushes them further into the vicious cycle of poverty.

Baby (age 11). Breaking bricks. Since Bangladesh is located in the worlds largest delta, there are not enough sufficient materials to produce concrete for building constructions. Thus, there is such an occupation as brick-breaking, which is categorized as a hazardous child work by the ILO and UNICEF. The brick breakers work outside, under the sun, in the heat, and smash bricks into pieces that will be used as concrete producing materials.

Showing me their adorable smiles and small hands, three tokai boys (street waste-collectors), probably between the ages of six and eight, shouted at me in English. wherever and whenever you go (even at midnight!), beggars will ask you to give them some Taka (money/petty cash). Even when you

are in a car, they constantly bang on the windows of your car, gesturing to show how hungry they are, how small and sick their babies are, and what disabilities they have. However, when I met those three boys, I was amused at how well they read the situation between them and me. 11

firstly, they shouted at me in English, knowing or guessing that I (a foreigner) did not understand Bangla but English. Secondly, they chose three hundred instead of thirty or three thousand, understanding that a foreigner like me would probably have that amount of taka in her pocket, and could afford to give it to them. Thirdly, although I do not know whether or not they were aware of this, they picked up a number that could be divided by three. It was apparent that they were not begging from me, but playing with me. They did not slow down their pace to make the gestures, but just shouted loudly a few more times with their friendly smiles and carried on along their way. on another day, my colleagues and I visited a learning centre where a local NGo provides non-formal education opportunities to so-called working children, and I asked the children if I could take a picture of them. Then, when we left the centre, after asking if we would visit them again, some children said: Yes, you-kind-of-people always say you will come back and visit us again, but you never do. Moreover, I felt as if they were challenging our-kind-of-peoples usual notion of 12

so-called child laborers and working children, the notion that we, outsiders, foreigners, often carry and have toward children in urban cities in a country such as Bangladesh. Nevertheless, in Dhaka, the work the children willingly or unwillingly do is part of their everyday life, especially when there is no school to attend. Through irregular visits of foreigners, the children learn to internalize our notion of child labor and working children, and act out the ideal type of working childrenhow we think their lives areto the visitors. Although they have probably never read or heard what kinds of attitudes we often have toward children like them, they understand (or act as if they understand) how the idea of child labor and working children has been constructed, idealized, and used in the international development aid context.

A learning centre for urban working children operated by the Bureau of Non-formal Education, Ministry of Primary and Mass Education of the Government of Bangladesh, UNICEF, and 20 entrusted local NGOs. There are total 8,000 centres for 200,000 children. >>

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AN oASIS of CALM AND SPACE IN DHAKAS BIGGEST SLUM

Augutst 2009

Toni Kaatz-Dubberke

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If you go from Gulshan to Banani using the newly built concrete bridge, you can see the outskirts of the Korail slum on the other side of the lake. Beyond the lakeside huts - which are erected on bamboo pillars - there are the homes of about 100.000 people. Several times I crossed the bridge and saw people putting pillars into the muddy lakebed as a foundation for new houses. However, when I visit Korail it turns out that the latest structure erected is not a house but an oasis of calm and space for the people of Korail. Although there is a kind of square at the southern edge of Korail which is used for cultural programs, sports and markets, open space is very limited. The immediate impression is that a place where people could relax in calm surroundings, enjoy an open view or even undertake a romantic liaison would be hard to find in such a crowded area. The same idea occurred to Khondaker Hasibul Kabir, a young architect lecturer from BRAC University who has been living in Korail for two years. Before he lived in an apartment but felt lonely there and incomplete without a garden to look after. However, once he moved to this area he discussed a lot

of ideas together with the community and a platform made from bamboo (where I meet him) is one such idea that became reality. Local carpenters (mistri) contributed labor to the project, while Kabir sponsored it from his private pocket. one of the carpenters is Saifur who I also meet at the platform. He brought about twenty years of working experience into the project - he has never been to school but learnt by doing from the very beginning of his working life. He has been living in Korail since 1991 and is well known in the community. Usually, people call him if they want to have something built and together with the client he plans the design and the costs of the material. However, sometimes he is given full responsibility and looks after the whole construction process from start to finish. The most difficult thing with these kind of structures is the starting process, Saifur explains. first they had to build a scaffold from which to put the pillars into the mud. After that the pillars were linked by cross-bars to ensure the strength of the structure and a bamboo platform was set on top of it. finally a roof with both bamboo and

plastic layers was made and a small fence put up. It took three months to finish the construction. Some private businessmen disturbed the process with a claim for the land where the platform was built. When they saw that we do not want anything commercial, they never came back and we just continued our work after a while, Kabir says. The purpose of the platform is as a playground for children and a place for people to sit, relax and enjoy the view over Gulshan Lake. At night a few people also sleep here. Sometimes wedding couples also come here to get themselves photographed with Gulshan in the background, Kabir tells me. I can easily lounge here for a whole friday afternoon surrounded by kids and other people who are constantly coming and going. I almost forget that the biggest slum in Dhaka is only a stones throw away.

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LIVING BESIDE THE TRACKS

August 2009 Toni Kaatz-Dubberke

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The railroad between Dhaka and Narayanganj is not only the link of two prospering cities, ensuring the flow of people and goods. It is also the home of thousands of families who live and work besides the tracks. Some of the settlements are very compact bamboo-tin structures; others are scattered camps where people live in improvised tents. I jump off the train just one stop ahead from the main station in the Gandaria area, in the outskirts of Dhaka. fully emerged, the kids gaze up at the kites as they dance up and down in the smooth breeze. Aisha and Mamuni, two kids from the neighborhood get attracted by the bideshi (foreigner) who is now walking along the tracks to make pictures of their area. Two pairs of big deep brown eyes follow my move. They show me the place where they live. In this tiny tent, erected on the naked ground Mamuni and Aisha are living together with their mother and father who are now at work. The heap of concrete bags and blue plastic blankets look like they were just thrown randomly on the improvised bamboo structures. But shaking it, it appears stable enough to even survive a heavy

rain fall. Although their parents can afford food they do not have the money to send their kids to school, making the children waste their time along the tracks. Around fifty households live at this place between the tracks on the one and the street on the other side. originally, all people came from different villages in the North of the Gaibandha Disctrict. After the waters of the Brahmaputra River flushed away their lands and houses about fifteen years ago they had to move and founded a new nameless village within the city. Before the flood most of them lived from farming, now people survive on rickshaw-pulling, day laboring and begging. Lalmir, a rickshaw-puller, tells me as long as I am living here an accident never has happened. Even the kids are conscious about the threat. In the night we do not get bothered by any noise, because the last train comes by around 10.30pm. In fact the families there are better off on the other side of the track, as I learn from Hafeza and her husband Ali Hussein. By steamer, they both moved from Barisal after the big floods in 1988. We came almost naked. We could not even save the dishes, Hafe-

za moans. Alone in the urban environment they had to build up their new lives from nothing. But soon after their arrival they find a good way to make a living. when I meet the couple they are busy with drying up dark little essence sticks on the tracks. A company provides them with straw and coal and they put these two together and sell it back to the company which then adds the smelly essences that make these sticks so popular all over Asia. They receive ten Taka per kg, giving them enough to afford the small luxuries they enjoy in their home. with 700 Taka a month, Ali Hussein manages from neighboring plots, the electricity for the fan, a bulb and water. when I ask about the family Hafeza proudly responds: We have five daughters and one son. Three daughters are already married and two are going to school. Her son also got married recently and is working in a car workshop. when they were farmers in Barisal, Hafeza and Ali were better off, she tells, but we are happy here. We have a business close to our house and our kids are well..

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II. NARAyANGANJ
Narayanganj is 17 km Southeast of Bangladeshs capital Dhaka. It is situated on the bank of the river Shitallakhya, at the confluence of the Shitallakhya and Buriganga rivers. Narayanganj is one of the oldest municipalities in Bangladesh. It came into existence in 1876. It has an area of 10.40 square kilometers. and it is one of the two special category municipalities* in the country. As per census 2001, the township has a population of 230,294 with a modest average growth of rate 2.5. It is included within the Rajdhani Unnayan Kartripakkha (RAJUK), the development authority of the capital city. As other cities in Bangladesh, Narayanganj is well connected with the rest of the country by railway, road and river. The river port of Narayanganj is considered as one of the busiest ports of the country which acts as a hub for the flow of goods for the capital city.
* Bangladesh has three categories of Pourashavas, namely Class A, Class B and Class C. Among the Class A Pourashavas, there are A1 and A2 Pourashavas. Among the Class A1 Pourashavas, Narayanganj and Tongi is considered as Special Class Pourashavas as they are part of Dhaka Megacity jurisdiction and Rajuk Plan.

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THE MEANING of RED CoLoRS IN THE DEARA PooR CoMMUNITy

May 2009 Toni Kaatz-Dubberke

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when I enter Deara poor community in Narayanganj I feel like visiting a village in the rural sites. The houses are made from bamboo and tin, colored green or blue in some patches. Between the homes of about 300 families, there is space to walk and grow some cattle; the place is surrounded by vegetable fields. The green trees hanging over the Chitaloka River give me a romantic impression of the place. Regardless of its beautiful appearance, people are facing an invisible threat. They cannot use the water for drinking purposes as garment and dyeing industries located nearby feed their effluents into the river and pollute it in a way so that even swimming in it is not a pleasure. Community members mainly extract their water from tube wells from shallow aquifers. when they show me the tube wells I realize that most of them are painted red. In fact this color is much more connected to the peoples fate than the green of the trees and fields. The tube wells have been marked by Pourashava water experts to indicate the presence of something invisible: arsenic. The shallow layers of ground

water, where most of the tube wells extract the water from are poisoned by this country-wide known affliction. Arsenic is not only without color but also without smell and taste. The fact that it is not immediately observable makes it difficult to avoid its consumption. If arsenic is present in excess in the drinking water, it has a toxic effect on the human body. when it enters into the body, parts of it are deposited in the skin, hair and nails, where it is firmly bound to keratin. It can take months and years until the poisoning of the body is visible but then it might be too late to prevent harmful effects. To date there is no proper clinical treatment. The people of Deara are aware of the meaning of red-colored tube wells. Skin diseases and other consequences of arsenic over-consumption are rarely appearing due to the fact that people try to minimize drinking from it, Mizanur Rahman, member of the local community organization (CDC) tells me. Due to a lack of alternatives, people still use the water from the red tube wells for washing and cooking purposes. The temptation to drink every now and then from it is always present.

Another disturbing substance that comes from the ground water is easier to avoid. Dissolved iron is present in excess as well in the whole Narayanganj region. Because of its bad taste and odor, people are reluctant to drink it. We can not even wash clothes with it because the iron is destroying the fabric, one woman that stands next to the tube well says. on top of that, the polluted water has a red shade which shows the presence of iron in it. water with iron contents also comes from a red marked tube well in Deara. Therefore some people wrongly assume that the red shade of the iron is somehow connected to arsenic. There is at least one new tube well within the poor community that is drilled deep enough to extract clean and safe drinking water. Inside the plot of Mizanur a deep drilled tube well extracts clean water from the ground and an engine pumps it into a 5000 liter tank to store. Every day in the morning, water from that tank flows one hour for free. For the poor people of Deara, it is a chance to get big red buckets filled with safe drinking water.

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CREATING SPACE VERTICALLy

March 2010 Kirthi Ramesh & Juan Carvajal

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As we squeeze through the alleys of the Sweeper Colony, Sonu, a girl from the community, shows us some tiny rooms where often 2 or 3 generations crowd together every night to sleep. walking further through the tight pathways, we suddenly notice a narrow two-storey building towering above the one storied houses. Curious about its function, we decide to take a closer look. Arriving there we meet Ajab Lal and his son, Rajak Lal, who are the tenants of the house. They make a gesture inviting us to climb up all the way up to the rooftop. After tackling the grips of iron jutting out from the wall in irregular intervals, an excellent view of the community awaits us. Twelve years ago, Ajab Lal built a small room above the narrow passage adjacent to the neighbors house, just big enough for two people to sleep in. By that time his daughters had already been married and moved in with their in-laws, but his sons were yet to be married. while girls traditionally move to their in-laws house after marriage, boys stay with their parents. Sensing that the 7m2 room on the ground floor would not be enough to accommodate him, his wife, his two grownup sons and their families, Ajab decided to enlarge their living space. with no space around the house the only possibility was

to build upwards, on top of the hallway as their own roof is slanted and shared with the neighboring house. This was not an easy undertaking. Ajab first had to get permission from the Pourashava who owns the land and builts the houses. He approached the chair person of the community to discuss the matter and then went to the Pourashava who approved his request. His next challenge was actually building the new upstairs room. with little outside help it took him about 20 days to carry out this project. Today his newly married younger son sleeps in the small room on the upper floor while he and his wife live on the ground floor. His older son, who lived in that room before, moved to another house nearby with his wife and their three children. for many community members, however, the reality is still a crowded one. This is not unusual in Bangladesh where the overall population density is one of the highest in the world with 1075 persons per km. In fact, in slums the population density is about 200 times higher, despite the fact that most slum dwellings are only single storey, as in the case of the Sweeper Colony. Population density in the Sweeper Colony is 150 times higher than the national average, with as many as 168 172 people

per km. This can lead to situations where 15 people live within 8m2. In return for their work as cleaners for the Pourashava no rent is charged, which is the major reason why most families stay despite continuing population growth. Some community members tell us that they are all very proud of Ajabs intelligence but, for various reasons such as financial constraints, lack of knowledge on construction work etc., so far no one else in the Sweeper Colony has taken up this idea to vertically extend their houses. 23

THE THREAT of fLAMES

february 2010 Lenka Vojtov

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Slums in Bangladesh could be defined by constant and diverse insecurities. In many other countries, the term slum is very often used for informal settlements simply because of the lack of construction permits, high density or shelters situated on land not declared as a building site. Most of the slums I have visited in Bangladesh, however, suffer from every indecent living condition one can imagine. I perceive two different natures of challenges to be faced. Inconveniences falling into the first category are the visible environmental conditions insufficient or missing sanitation, nonexistent drainage system, overwhelmingly high density both of shelters as well as their dwellers, high levels of pollution, and the enumeration could continue even further. The challenges of the second category levitate under the surface, though indiscernible by observing eyes, omnipresent in the mind of the slum dwellers and the most complex to overcome. It is the insecurity of tenure, the fear of eviction and the threat of fire. As a blaze gutted 47 houses in Rally Bagan, a slum of Narayanganj Municipality, the calendar dated December

24, 2009, and it was two oclock in the morning. Three people fell victim to the fire; others woke up just in time to save themselves by fleeing their houses. There was neither the time to rescue any belongings nor to think about taking the savings underneath the mattresses or out of the safes as the fire engulfed quickly. The morning saw over 200 flat broke survivors, possessing not more than a single saree or lungi. After 173 years of existence, Rally Bagan is said to be the oldest settlement in Narayanganj and thus, compared to the majority of Bangladeshs slums, its appearance differs slightly. Already in 1907, a British Jute company had raised brick-made houses for their workers of Bihari and Bengali origin. The houses in each block are of the same age and have a common roof of corrugated iron. Usually, it is light building materials that allow flames to spread quickly through dense slums. Although not obvious at first sight, this was also the cause of the large scale of Rally Bagans dreadful incident: the ceiling under the A-shaped tin roof is made of bamboo, which enabled the damaging flames to spread quickly over the adjacent shanties. It was in this fashion

that one complete block of houses burned down (see map on the next page). It took two hours for the fire fighting units to put out the flames whose cause was yet to be investigated. Immediately after the incident, the assumption was that the fire might have originated from a mosquito coil. one month on, none of the neighbours see either the coil, or the electric short circuit or the stove that remained inside the house 25

Regardless of the cause, however, it is always the poor urban dwellers that are left behind most often without any means of support neither material nor psychological. During the past six weeks, I have visited the affected Rally Bagan plot three times and each visit has been more disillusioning than the previous one simply because nothing has changed, nothing moved towards any improvement. A widow of ten years, Banu Hussain, has lived in Rally Bagan since the very first moment she saw the light of this world. She works in the garments industry earning 2000-2500Tk a month. Her 17-year old son, Sadaim, suffers panic attacks since the fire outbreak. He was working in a factory, earning 1600Tk a month, but his trauma has made it difficult to continue his occupation. Like many of those affected by the fire, both of them are confused by the disorder their daily life turned into. Pori, her husband and their four children were lucky to find shelter at their relatives place. for an outsider, the solidarity among slum dwellers might seem very weak, but after a few questions and a deeper insight it became obvious that neighbours help each

Although most of the walls endured the fire, everything inside has been destroyed.

of the fire-origin as a feasible causation. few indications suggest a deliberately harmful act, but nobody dares to speak openly about such suspicions. The only words spoken are Only the victims could tell us the answer.... The mystery of sudden combustion is an issue threatening slum dwellers worldwide. It is not only the flammability of the 26

shelters, the narrow slum lanes often not more than two thirds of a meter, the dependence on open fires and the extraordinary density enhancing the fire outbreaks. Slum fires are often anything but accidents. Intended arson can accelerate the eviction process, bypassing the necessity of an official demolition order and reducing the expense of clearing the area as well as providing reimbursements.

other out as much as they are able to. Immediately after the incident, they shared food, helped with basic cleaning and those who could spare some space offered shelter for the time being. Pori explained to me the communitys awareness about its man-power potential to contribute to rebuilding. As most of them have a paid job, they are also ready to take loans. family representatives meet every week to reach common decisions on steps to be taken next. But even though the longing for a re-established day to day life is strong, the dwellers are understandably debilitated by the disaster and cant bundle their strength and potential only by themselves. what is missing at the moment is someone to shoulder the responsibility and take over the overall coordination. It is a puzzle to the academic world, how people can live with hardly any money or any self-produced goods. But they do manage, and the stories of our blog illustrate some impressive ways. However, there are situations requiring a strengthened external intervention. And the consequences of damaging fire outbreaks are one of them...

Map of Rally Bagan with highlighted fire-affected house block.

27

LooKING foR THE BEST CooK IN TowN

May 2009 Toni Kaatz-Dubberke

28

Dense smoke, lively conversation and a smell of freshly cooked meals meet me in Jimkhana. Its lunch time. A dozen women and girls squat around eight firesides and busily prepare food. About 25 families from different parts of the community share this cooking place. They organize themselves spontaneously every day, using the stoves in rotation; first come, first served. Nevertheless every cook has to be quick and effective as the cooks who came later eagerly await their turn. But during the wait they may just be able to learn some new recipes - especially the girls who can pick up a knack or two by watching the older women. The art of cooking here means to make something from nothing, and as with humans everywhere, people in Jimkhana find plenty of ways to be creative. To my question Who is the best cook in town? I receive cackling laughter and a diplomatic answer. You have to try each one of the meals, then you can judge, people tell me. I speak to Lotifa, an older woman with glasses which seem a bit too big for her face. Maybe she is the one I am looking for. She is a mother and grandmother and

prepares the meals for two families with eight members in total. with only 100 to 150 Taka a day for the whole family, she really has to be an artist. Lotifa is busy with cooking shutki, dry fish. First it is smashed or ground, then fried together with some chili and onions. One handfull of these tiny fish is one portion of a familys meal. from

a field right behind the cooking place she gets the ingredients for kachushak, an important source of vitamins and minerals made from the steamed and boiled leaves of the taro plant. Most of the meals during the week consist of rice with spices, such as green chili and salt, and a bit of aubergine and zucchini. Fresh fish is served once a 29

month and meat only once a year during Eid (festivals). on this occasion sweet shemai, made from thin vermicelli, milk and butter is also served. If you bring some vegetables, then I can cook for you next time, Lotifa says. with this invitation I take my leave and go to look in the cooking pot of some other families in the area. In a small tin hut in Rishi Para I meet Masu Begum with one of her daughters. Usually she works twelve hours a day in a nearby garment factory along with two of her three kids. In the morning she prepares rice with dry fish, chili and lady fingers for lunch so she can eat together with her children during the one hour lunch break without being hurried. Although three of the household are working they spend nearly all they earn on food. Her husband has abandoned her and is living with another wife, although he is fair enough to come every day and bring them some money. Masu does not really like the place she is living in but has come to terms with the situation. I am an old woman and have no alternatives. Her neighbors are nice, she tells me, she sees them as relatives. Good relations with the neighbors 30

are maintained through sharing fresh fish curry with them about two times a week. Her youngest daughter Harmin is thirteen years old and goes to school. She often prepares the rice for diner and looks after the fire, which is feed by bushi, sawdust. Her biggest wish is to be independent, maybe by running her own small business. But before she should learn how to cook well, Masu interrupts.

Looking into a cooking pot in Rishi Para >>

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SoNUS SToRy

March 2010 Kirthi Ramesh

32

Sonu (pronounced Shonu) is already awaiting us as we arrive at the Sweeper Colony, which is predominantly Hindu and centrally located, surrounded by tall buildings on all sides. without much formal introduction, the highly energetic young lady of 19 takes us by the hand and pulls us into her friends house where we sit down on the bed and listen to her story. Like most residents of the Sweeper Colony, Sonus parents are employed as cleaners by the Pourashava. Growing up she has had a hard time explaining to them that she did not want to get married early like her friends, but rather continue studying and eventually work with her community. This was not a simple endeavor in a society where a girls education is still considered a waste of money, she tells us. She does not blame them for thinking this, saying, My parents are not educated. But in the end her brother was able to go to school, so why shouldnt she? Determined to get an education, Sonu explained that she was willing to get a job in order to finance her education. In 2006, Sonu successfully completed 10th grade and went to college where she specialized in commerce. After

graduating in 2008 she was chosen to participate in a 6-month global exchange in Caithness, Scotland. This opportunity came after she was discovered in her community by the chief executive of a citizens initiative, who sent her to an assessment for the exchange where she was selected as one of nine Bangladeshi participants from a total of 9000 applicants worldwide. In Scotland she worked in a primary school with children and was involved in volunteer work such as tree planting and explaining her culture. As a result, she was able to improve her English. Her final project was a theater piece with the school children on the Hindu Diwali festival. from the group of Bangladeshi exchange volunteers, Sonu was elected by her peers to speak at the Scottish Parliament. Sonus next plan is to go to university either in Dhaka or Narayanganj. She has already applied and is currently awaiting her results. Her greatest wish is to study sociology and acquire knowledge to understand her community better. otherwise, she would like to build on her college background and continue studying commerce and management.

In her free time Sonu volunteers for an NGo. She likes it because it helps her to better understand how such organizations work and come to grips with community work. Apart from that she also provides after-school tutoring in English, Bangla and Math to children in her community. Sonu tells us that today the communitys initial skepticism has given way to praise from many neighbours and friends. This has also led to her parents growing recognition of her achievements.

In the coming months we will have more contributions from community members themselves. Sonu, a 19 year-old girl from the Sweeper Colony in Narayanganj, is the first to contribute to our blog. She will be sharing her stories with us from time to time, writing on pertinent issues facing her community on a daily basis. The first story is waiting for you on the next page...

33

SoNUS SToRy ToLD By HERSELf

March 2010 Sonu Rani Das

34

Welcome to my community. I come from a community called Dalits (Untouchables). Dalits are not created by God, this idea is created by people and society and goes back to the creation of the caste system within Hindu religion. My community people are all Hindu and we all follow the Hindu religion. My community people are very frank, sociable and hospitable people. My community is very poor and most of our community people live below the poverty line. Many of us work for the Pourashava (Municipality) as cleaners, where they earn very little money (2200 Taka (~28 US$) per month). This is why we cant get the same opportunities like other people. Most of us are illiterate and dont understand the importance of basic rights we have like education, health and sanitation, housing, good food, entertainment etc. Illiteracy is one of the problems and another problem is discrimination. Some people understand that there are good and bad living conditions but they cant escape their bad living conditions because they face too much discrimination. For example, if Dalit children go to school the teachers do

not teach them properly and the classmates behavior towards them is horrible. My community children are very intelligent but sometimes they dont get the opportunity to go to school. In the past, when they tried to go to school the school doors were closed to them. This is now better in urban areas but sometimes still the case in rural areas. Now some of them go to school, college, even university, but they dont honestly say: I am Dalit. They say:We are Hindu. Nobody in my community has their own land but we stay on somebody elses land. As many of us work for the Pourashava the Pourashava selects one place and we stay there. If any one does not work for the Pourashava anymore they lose their house. Thats why at least one family leader or family member has to work for the Pourashava. Some people in my community are Government employees and their salary is quite good. But most of my community people work for the Pourashava and the salary is not enough. Very few people try to find more jobs so they can get additional money. But most of them earn money by selling rubbish like alcohol, ganja, heroine

etc. So when it gets dark in my community a lot of unknown faces come and they buy this type of drugs. Now my community is full of noise and horrible. These people harass our girls and intimidate them. I have no words to explain how bad this situation is. In my community all of us face problems but girls face more problems than boys. If girls are born, the family members are usually not happy. They think girls mean a burden for us. The parents give all opportunities to boys not to girls. Boys are allowed to go to school, girls not. They think a girls education means a waste of money. They always say you are suitable for the kitchen and household chores. Now quite a few boys are educated but only very few girls are. I think if young people get the opportunity to higher education it is possible to solve the problems of Dalits.

35

RECyCLING

May 2009 Toni Kaatz-Dubberke

36

In a country with limited resources it is possible to make money even from garbage rather than just to waste it by throwing it away. The hundreds of garment factories in Narayanganj are producing a lot of fabric scraps, small patches that remain after cutting the blanks. Unsorted, these scraps find (for very little money) their way to the nearby communities, providing a source of income. The fibers are of good quality and are reused. They have to be sorted with a lot of patience and due diligence. one of these patient and careful sorters is Mojiton, who I meet in a storage room close to Rally Bagan poor community. She squats on the ground in a room filled with big heavy plastic bags. She is surrounded by small patches of fabrics of all colors, which she sorts by color and quality. The air is filled with a smoke-like dust of fabric fibers, which colors my nose from inside. when her husband died 10 years ago in an accident at a construction site, Mojiton took responsibility for herself and her two daughters. one lives with her in Rally Bagan. Every day she makes about 60 to 65 Taka. It is not that much, but we can survive on it, Mojiton says.

Shaheen is sorting plastic and tin garbage.

on the other edge of Rally Bagan, next to the entrance, another kind of recycling business is going on. In front of his small shop, Shaheen and his older brother, Shukur, are sorting solid waste from garbage bags they bought from slum residents. Piece by piece, they separate mainly plastic from tin items. After sorting, they sell it to a bigger dealer, usually making about 10 Taka per kg.

They earn 300 Taka per day (3 Euro), on lucky days even 600. However, in the last couple of months the price of recyclable materials, especially tin, is declining. The dealer now pays only 12 to 15 Taka per kg to Shukur instead of the 35 Taka he used to offer. This loss is then passed on to the slum residents who suffer from a lack of income. 37

38

III. JAMALPUR
Jamalpur is a district town in the northern part of Bangladesh, located on the Brahmaputra River, 140 km north of Dhaka. The municipality of Jamalpur was established in 1869 and is connected by rail ways, roads and the river with Dhaka and other parts of the country. Around 60.000 people are currently living in Jamalpur, which is an important market centre for rice, sugarcane, jute, tobacco, and mustard that is produced in the region. The Jamalpur Municipality includes more than 55 slums with a high density (2270 people per km). The main sources of employment are agriculture and agriculture based industries (40%), different kinds of businesses (10 %), industrial labor (25%) and small and petty occupation.
References: BBS Population Census 2001 (Community Series; Zila- Jamalpur), Pourashava base line survey

39

THE MyTHS of MIGRATIoN

January 2010 Carolin Braun

40

for many of the urban citizens in Bangladesh, people living in slums are nearly an invisible phenomenon. The common presumption amongst these citizens is that slum dwellers only resident in the slums for a limited period of time and are permanently engaged in the rural agricultural sector. Considering the dense living conditions in most of Bangladesh cities and huge slum areas, I have been wondering whether this image reflects the reality of the urban poor. Thus, I visited one of the biggest slums in Jamalpur, in the north of Bangladesh. The slum which is known as Sarpur comprises of about 300 households. The housing structure of the small shanty homes in this slum is similar to those of other slums in other developing regions. Despite its status as a slum, the area gives me the impression of being a fairly bright and green neighborhood, with little gardens, open places here and there, and small lakes that are surrounded by palm trees. Like many other slums, this slum is already an established part of the city. The inhabitants of Sarpur have lived there for more than four to five decades, and no longer have any linkages to the original agriculture businesses of their grandfathers.

The main reason why the first migrants came to the slum was the lack of agricultural land ownership, due to hereditary partitioning or land loss caused by flooding. Working for other landowners does generally not provide sufficient income to sustain a family on a long-term basis. Thus contrary to the common belief, the people of this slum established a permanent living environment and social networks around their area, which permit them to follow their occupation and to earn a living. I met an elderly lady, Panmuti, in a sari, cooking in front of her house. Panmuti is about 60 years old and came to the slum with her parents when she was a girl. At that stage, her family had a low income, resulting from their occupation as basket carriers, beggars and other minor roles. Panmuti got married to another young man living in the same area, who obtained a job as a grave digger working for the whole town. Together they raised five daughters and one son. Her son and two of her divorced daughters are still living with her. Her house has two rooms and is located nearby the lake. Her handicapped son uses one

room, while she shares the other room with her two adult daughters and their children. Both women work as domestic assistants in different households in the town. with their combined income, they can easily survive and sustain the family. The elderly lady seemed very surprised when I asked her if she ever wanted to go back to her village. She said No, what would I do there? We dont have any land for agriculture, so how would we live there?. Even the adolescent girls who gathered around us, along with other interested neighbors, said, they would rather stay in Sarpur than going back to rural areas, and would not even consider returning for marriage offers. Many of the girls around us were well educated, attending higher classes of the local secondary school, and had basic knowledge of English. one thing is subject to common agreement: None of the residents wants to move back to rural areas and change the opportunities which the city offers them for a life in a village where they have no income. According to Panmuti, people here have adapted to the life in their neighborhood. Most of them have not been back to their original village 41

for a very long time. The children born here dont even know rural life. There are many ways in which both the city and the slum dwellers benefit from each other. The residents of the slums find occupational opportunities in the urban areas, while the town takes advantage of their competitive labour force in different businesses and the domestic sector. The inhabitants of the slums serve the town, e.g. in form of day labor in one of the cities construction businesses, or by providing essential services like rickshaw driving and waste collection, street sweeping, providing domestic help or by selling small items in a stall on the street. for all of those who are engaged in the citys businesses, the slums are the basis for their daily work in the urban area of Jamalpur.

Panmuti is cooking in front of her shanty house at the lakeside while talking to us. >>

42

IV. MyMENSINGH
Mymensingh, located beside the Brahmaputra River in the north of Bangladesh, is one of the biggest and oldest Pourashavas (municipalities) in Bangladesh, covering around 22 km2. Due to migration from the villages and rapid natural population growth within the city the number of inhabitants has rapidly increased. The Pourashava assumed 2005 about 375.000 inhabitants. Almost half of the population (45%) is considered as poor, many of them living in slums under bad conditions. All over the city, the municipality counts 94 slum areas with altogether more than 140.000 inhabitants. Similar to other towns, the slum dwellers are working as day laborer, rickshaw puller and hawkers or running small businesses. The average income in the slums of Mymensingh is estimated as 3000 Taka a month.
References: Ahsan, Shaikh Muhammad Mehedi (2009), Participation of Urban Poor in Municipal Governance in Bangladesh. A Case Study of Mymensingh Pourashava, Dissertationa at Civil Service College, Dhaka. Bangladesh Unnayan Parishad (2004), Socio-Economic Household Survey of Mymensingh conducted by Bangladesh Unnayan Parishad for ADB. GTZ (2008), Poverty Impact Assessment in Mymensingh, Dhaka.

43

SAND BUSINESS

July 2009 Toni Kaatz-Dubberke

44

when I enter the Kalli Bari community in the Northeastern part of Mymensingh I find the roads muddy after two days of rain. Until one year ago people lived directly next to the Brahmaputra River and were threatened by floods during every rainy season. Now the settlement occupies a narrow strip located along a recently built embankment. That the river is not only a threat but also a source of income I can quickly learn here. The word river-bank makes sense in two different ways in Kalli Bari. I meet Abdul Modtaleb working among others on top of the silt. He is the supervisor of the sand business at this part of the river, with experience stretching back more than 15 years. Abdul lives here with his wife, kids and parents. Because they did not have land in their home village his parents moved to Mymensingh in 1974. Before he started the sand business he was working in a saw mill factory. He makes around 500 Tk. a day now and this is enough to maintain himself and his family. The price of the sand from here is 1.5 Tk. per cubic foot (about 28 litres), but 40 percent of the proceeds

Kanchan fixes a problem with the engine.

from every cubic foot sold goes to a private investor. We can keep the other 60 percent. Business is going well. The investor holds a leasing contract with the Pourashava of Mymensingh for the rights to the extraction of sand on this particular stretch of the Brahmaputra

River. At the same moment as Abdul is explaining how well his business flows, the stream of silt suddenly gets interrupted. What is happening? Work is finished today? I ask. No, no this is normal. Every 20 to 30 minutes the machine gets stuck, he replies. 45

To discover the reason why the silt flow stopped I ask him to show me the heart of his business. we cross the embankment, following the pipes down to the river. A small raft brings us to two boats which are tied together forming a catamaran. when we step on the boat we meet Kanchan, the machine operator. He is busy unhooking wet garbage from a small metal container incorporated within an arrangement of two engines, rods, pipes and arbors. A smell of diesel is in the air although the engine is not running. Everything looks quite improvised. Before the silt is pumped through the pipe to the ridge at the riverbank, it passes a filter. The problem is that there is garbage all over the riverbed, so that the machine has to be stopped to free the filter from the garbage. We have to stop it every half an hour., Kanchan says. He is about twenty years old and has been working with machines since he was twelve. He has never been to college but he understands the kinks of this Chinese engine. Together with his parents, Kanchan also lives in Kalli Bari. Being still unmarried he can live on the 280 Tk. he gets every day.

To compensate for the current of and the waves on the river, Kanchan invented a flexible piece of pipe so that the main pipe can not break. It also looks much improvised but seems to work. However, with the upcoming rainy season the river will have more water and the current will be too strong to operate the suction machine for about two months. Even the invention made by Kanchan will not help then and during that time the equipment will be stored at the riverbank. Abdul will be able to earn during that period by selling a stock of sand they have already accumulated, but for Kanchan it will mean unemployment.

A ridge of sand silt in Kalli Bari.

>>

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47

UNITED IN PoVERTy

August 2009 Toni Kaatz-Dubberke

48

In the Patgodam poor community (Mymensingh) I get introduced to a totally different aspect of urban poverty in Bangladesh. The houses made from bricks are rotten and it appears to me that the walls could collapse at any time. The narrow roads between the houses are muddy and covered by garbage. The place is crowded. At first view it seems to be a slum like many others that I saw in Bangladesh, albeit one of the worse ones though. But that is only half the story, a fact I realize when I spot a big sign, which says: Stranded Pakistani General Repatriation Committee. This is an organization of the Urdu speaking minority. We call them Biharis, but they have many names, my translator answers my questioning look. I meet Mohammad Shakir Ali, a leader of the community. when he introduces himself I am rather confused. He was born in 1944 in Uttar Pradesh (India), speaks Urdu, Hindi and Bangla and seems to be a smart and educated guy. why is he working as a night guard and lives in this miserable place? The story of him and his family is the story of three countries and a lot of tears and blood. During the unrest after the partition of India in 1947, his father and his fa-

mily escaped the communal riots that threatened their lives and came to Mymensingh in then called East Pakistan. from zero they had to build up a new life in a new environment far away from their ancestral homeland. He joined the Pakistan Railway Company and so did his son Shakir Ali when he was sixteen in 1960. Shakir Ali made a good living as train driver, so the Railway Company provided him with a house and a comfortable salary. But in 1971, history again turned against his family. The liberation of Bangladesh from Pakistani domination jailed him in the slum where he still lives today. In the first place, it was for his own good and to stay here. Bengali freedom fighters branded all Biharis as enemies of newly born Bangladesh and collaborators with the Pakistani army, killed many of them in revenge of war crimes done by the Pakistanis and evicted them from their living places. The Indian army, which helped Bangladesh to get independence, resettled about 600 Urdu speaking families in Mymensingh who were scared and scattered all over the town. Their lives were saved but almost the whole community had lost

One of the main roads of the settlement.

property, jobs and standing overnight. Calm and without bitterness Shakir Ali tells me how he lost family members and friends.when the community found itself unwelcome, unsecured and reckoned as non-Bangladeshis anyways they considered themselves as Stranded Pakistanis hoping that Pakistan would take them to its territory, providing them safety. Indeed, after 49

the independence of Bangladesh the government in Islamabad evacuated some 100.000 officials and loyalists to former west-Pakistan, amongst them also many Biharis. Shakir Ali also applied for departure to Pakistan in the 1970s, but that has never happened. Just one of his four brothers could manage to go. Since then the family was divided while he stayed and kept the history of the Biharis in Mymensingh. Nowadays Shakir is on the secretariat of the Stranded Pakistanis General Repatriation Committee, an organization that pushed for a suitable solution of the Bihari issue from the beginning. As the name implies, the main objective in the past was to repatriate the community into Pakistan, although most of them have never been there. Still the name is the same, but the attitude changed over three decades: We no longer want to go back to Pakistan. All our children were born and raised here. We want to be accepted as Bangladeshi citizens, Shakir says. He thinks that, once they are accepted as citizens they will get some kind of compensation for their lost properties. for more than 36 years the whole Urdu-speaking community had no sta50

tus at all in the Bangladeshi society, were in fact literally stateless, neither Indian, nor Pakistani, nor Bangladeshi citizens. Although they got enrolled in the voters list during the last election after a remarkable High Court decision (2007) and therefore are legally seen as part of the Bangladeshi people, the situation in different camps all over the country is hardly becoming better. The same applies for Padgodam where most of the people have Voters Cards now but still only five places to get drinking water for more than 3,500 people living here. following an invitation for tea I sit together with Mohammad Hussein and his family. During the war of Liberation he was 17 years old. He spent his entire live in Patgodoums, and is currently working as night guard in a private market. Mohammad also lost everything during the bloody days of 1971 but he somehow made his peace with the past. What can I do? There is no alternative to this place to live. However, his children want to get out of the poor conditions. The younger generation did not witness the events that happened in 1971 and played no role in it but they have to manage the present situation.

Mohammads daughter Liza already realized that the key to escape the slum is education. But in school the young Urdu speakers do not feel fully accepted by their classmates and teachers, the eighteen years old girl tells me. The Bengalis are not interested in mixing up with us people. Also the teachers are treating us differently, she says. Her cousin Hira dropped out of school because he did not feel welcome there. Nevertheless, Liza set her priorities and continues to study. She just deals with the situation by staying with her Bihari friends. Apart from going to school she never leaves the slum because especially her mother is afraid of bad speaking that could occur. However, to mix up with the Bengalis is not becoming easier this way. But one day she wants to leave the community to study at the Mymensingh University, following her successful brother Raju. He already managed his Engineering diploma (mechanical). But when the family shows me his CV I realize that Bangla and English, but not Urdu is mentioned there as language skill and the address at the head of the document is different from the place in Mymensingh where his family actually lives. We have to hide our

identity, if we want to mix up with the Bengali people. Otherwise they will not accept us, the father Mohammad Hussein comments. Although the Bihari community here is quite isolated and homogenous there are some Bengalis who are also living here. I meet Golati, who is originally from Sherpur, together with her eldest daughter Mousumi at their place. Golati came here for her love 15 years ago. Because her husband works as an assistant on a bus he is frequently going to Sherpur and met Golatis brother who has a tea store there. The two men made friendship and Golati got introduced to her husband when he visited her family. After he asked to marry her, she agreed and moved with him to Mymensingh. for her family there was no problem with that. The first two years she felt uncomfortable because she could not speak Urdu and the living conditions were worse than what she was used to. I feel comfortable now, because it is my husbands house, Golati tells, Because we do not have a better alternative we consider this as a good place. She thinks that the mixup between Bengali and Bihari people today is much easier than in the past. for her livelihood that fact does not

Mohammad Husseins family sitting in their home. From the left: Hira, Mohammad, Liza and her mother.

matter too much. The relationship with the neighbors is not the problem. We have many other problems: too many kids, bad sanitation and housing conditions and insufficient water supply, Golati tells me. It appears to

me that the conditions of poverty unite people wherever they are from and whatever language they speak.

51

CREDITS

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THE AUTHoRS
Nicola Banks is a doctoral associate with the Brooks world Poverty Institute at the University of Manchester, where she is completing her PhD. This explores the linkage between employment and livelihoods of the urban poor in Dhaka city. Carolin Braun graduated in Southeast Asian Culture and is currently working on urban migration and urban poverty reduction strategies at GTZ in Bangladesh. Juan Carvajal has a Masters in Human Geography with focus on globalization and development. During his internship period with GTZ he has been closely involved with socio-economic analysis and GIS mapping of urban slum communities. Sonu Rani Das grew up in a Sweeper Colony in Narayanganj. She has completed high school and is currently volunteering for a local NGo which enables her to understand the challenges of her community from a new perspective. She is planning to continue her studies at university this year. Nadia Tavares-Goodman has a PhD in Urban Design from the oxford Brookes University, England. She has been working as a researcher and project coordinator in Bangladesh, Zambia, Brazil and the UK. Her focus is on the inclusion of minority groups in the urban development debate. Toni Kaatz-Dubberke studies International Relations at the University of Leipzig with a special focus on developing countries. He has been working as an intern with GTZ in Bangladesh from March to September 2009, researching and writting on the livelihoods of the urban poor in Bangladesh. Kirthi Ramesh is a Master of Public Policy candidate at the Hertie School of Governance in Berlin. She is currently working in the Good Urban Governance project at GTZ in Dhaka where she supports activities related to improving the urban poors access to public services and poverty reduction programmes in urban areas. Sayaka Uchikawa is from Japan, and currently a PhD candidate in Applied 53 Anthropology at Teachers College, Columbia University. Her research interest focuses on working children and education in Bangladesh, especially in the urban settings. Lenka Vojtov has graduated in landscape architecture and is currently a candidate for a Master in Urban Design. Through her work for GTZ Bangladesh, she supports various projects aiming for the livelihood improvement of slum dwellers.

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with the blog URBAN PoVERTy IN BANGLADESH we are trying to describe the livelihoods of slum dwellers in different towns in Bangladesh. we would like to show you their daily routine, their areas and places of living and share with you their struggles, hopes and fears in the hope that you realize - like us - that PooR PEoPLE ARE NoT JUST NUMBERS IN STATISTICS BUT HUMAN BEINGS.

http://urbanpovertyinbangladesh.blogspot.com