"He Hurt Me Down There"

Magazine Poster: 
Date: 
Friday, December 8, 2017

Stories from inside Rakhine

For years now, the persecution of Rohingya in Myanmar has been broadcast to the world largely through volunteers who use smartphones to send photos, audio and video clips out to the Rohingya diaspora, larger Muslim community and the world. In the camps in the south of Bangladesh, refugees show images and videos of scenes of violence back home on their phones. Members of these WhatsApp or Facebook groups include the Rohingya diaspora in countries as wide-ranging as Malaysia, Saudi Arabia and the UK.

Rakhine state has been “closed” to the outside world with the government restricting access to the region to independent observers, journalists, rights groups, and the UN. “Due to the denial of access to the region, it is essentially impossible to get information,” says Rohingya refugee Mohammed Rafique, founder of The Stateless, a Rohingya community news portal.

What little has come out has been through social media, community outlets, and blogs. Two prominent sources of news online include the Rohingya Blogger and The Stateless.

Nay San Lwin, based in Germany, runs the Rohingya Blogger. The blog has become an important news media outlet for documenting human rights abuses against the Rohingya as well as featuring major international articles doing the same. Lwin's father, U Ba Sein, founded the website in 2005 and Lwin himself has been blogging since 2012. “We have gathered a great deal of evidence which arguably amount to show genocide has occurred against the Rohingya,” stated Lwin recently at a conference organised by the Refugee and Migratory Movement Research Unit (RMMRU) in Dhaka.

The year 2012 marked deadly riots between Buddhists and the Rohingya in the state of Rakhine, with allegations that the subsequently deployed military committed human rights abuses in Rohingya villages. As the national media largely ignored the violence, Rohingya community leaders and members of the diaspora set up their own media outlets to document and report on atrocities being committed in the state.

It was at this time that both Rohingya Blogger and The Stateless came into being. Lwin formed a team of volunteers based in northern Rakhine state. His team members keep tabs on all the villages in the area to document actions of the Border Guard Police (BGP), military and civilian authorities against the Rohingya.

“We also have volunteers in central Rakhine state who are reporting about the situation of refugee camps,” says Lwin. Around 120,000 internally displaced Rohingya have been interned in camps across Rakhine State since 2012 with the government restricting the UN and aid groups from distributing vital food aid or providing healthcare services.

Rohingya Blogger also has volunteers this side of the border, who have covered several incidents in the camps. They do not have problems recruiting, says Lwin, because they are well-known and many are willing to cooperate for the sake of getting information of their plight out to the world. 

A Rohingya mobile reporter takes photos and video footage of a burning village in Rakhine state.

The Rohingya Blogger team works discreetly, even among the villagers who are their sources. They are also anonymous online as they could all be sentenced to long imprisonment for their activities, says Lwin.

“Two of our team members were arrested two years ago but they managed to get released by themselves. We didn't publicise that they were our members as they would have been sentenced to imprisonment for their work. Some non-members who sent reports to us were arrested as well and four people from Buthidaung township have been sentenced for six years,” says Lwin.

Mobile phones have been available in the villages of Rakhine state only since 2014. Even without, says Lwin, his sources are tenacious. Lwin says of his experiences over the years, “I used to receive handwritten information. They know how to send information and they know how to reach me. I have even received handwritten reports from prison cells.”

What's changed in 2017? For one, half of Lwin's team is now in Bangladesh, having fled there since the most recent spate of violence August onwards. The rest of the volunteers remain in their villages but mobility is no longer an option. Many of their contacts, too, have fled across the border. This has led to a change in focus for the blog. “As the atrocities against the Rohingya are mostly known to the world by now, we are shifting our attention to writing news updates in Burmese to better inform Burmese Buddhists,” says Lwin.

Lwin and his news site have come under attack by the government. An article published in January of this year was dismissed by the Information Committee of the State Counsellor's Office as “fabricated”. “Our work has been publicly attacked by the government and the military. The official Facebook page of the Office of the President has attempted to attack and discredit us. They claim that our evidence and reporting was fake news,” stated Lwin at the RMMRU conference.

The Stateless is also run by a member of the Rohingya diaspora, based in Ireland. This, too, is run with the help of volunteers based within Rakhine State who operate with no pay and undertaking enormous risk.

Mobile journalism has been crucial for the persecuted Rohingya to get information out, using social media groups in WhatsApp and WeChat among others.“We normally go through a process in the groups to verify the authenticity of information by confirming with other members and video or imagery evidence. Then we proceed in writing the report,” says Rafique.

Recently, there have been reports of journalists documenting the Rohingya crisis going missing, targeted by the military. Since October 9 of last year, nine out of 10 of their mobile journalists have either disappeared or been killed, reports Rafique.

Since August 25 of this year, hundreds of villages have been entirely destroyed by the military with over 600,000 having sought refuge in neighbouring Bangladesh. The Stateless is currently starved of information with no sources left in the villages of Rakhine, says Rafique. This draught of information also has repercussions for human rights activists and international media outlets which depend on community sources in the otherwise “closed” state for information from inside.

Burmese journalists have not been spared, even on this side of the border. In September, Minzayar Oo and Hkun Lat, two photojournalists from Myanmar, were detained for almost 10 days. According to Bangladesh police, they were arrested for conducting their journalist work while on tourist visas. Ironic, considering that the rest of the world's journalists have been going about their work in Cox's Bazar without the threat of arrest.

The international media have finally taken a sustained interest in the matter due to the influx of over a million refugees into Bangladesh over the last year. But the work of these Rohingya mobile journalists remains as important as ever. With Rakhine still closed to the outside world, information from the epicenter of the crisis is vital to the fight of the Rohingya both inside and outside Myanmar.

Comments

To Commune with the Eternal Soul, an Artist's Journey

Translated by M A Hye Milton and Andrew Eagle

Through his more-than-six-year journey as a professional artist, Zahangir Alom has ever-refined his innate capacity to translate heartfelt observations of the natural world into artistic compositions infused with insight. The result, a rare unity of physical geographies, thought, emotion and interaction, can be witnessed in the mainly watercolour wash collection of “The Uncaged,” his latest solo exhibition, at La Galerie in Dhanmondi's Alliance Française de Dhaka.

An artist who habitually draws from the wellspring of his experience of Nature's sights, sounds, textures, tastes and smells, Zahangir routinely connects with the innermost recesses of the Soul of the earth, water and forest. He delights in embodying its music and patterns in his works.

When a human being is imbued with intellect and exuberance, delights in the fullness of life and revels in Nature's diversity, their creative output indeed becomes as one with the creative self of the Universe. This truth lies at the heart of the inability to detach Zahangir's artworks from his life philosophies and vision, which are not less creative than the paintings.

The nature-lover and avid traveller employs his boundless curiosity and memory of familiar and foreign landscapes too, although with intuition as chief guide Zahangir can as easily find himself illuminating the buoyancy of a folksong as a Himalayan twilight.

A further source of muse, if any were needed, arises from his work as a critic. In the course of penning reviews of music, dance, drama and of course the visual arts, Zahangir interacts with other artists. Therein arise moments of exhilaration and clarity of just the sort he might later transform with a brush into shapes, figures and colours.

At the same time in the artist is a preoccupation with themes, forms and techniques. The company of fellow painters as well as art admirers, not least during previous exhibitions at home and abroad, has left him with no meagre understanding of such matters. Although his painting is primarily a creature of impulse, the addition of solid methodology has led to his developing a distinctive language within watercolour wash technique.

In several of his paintings, the cloud-like shapes of feminine figures are expressed through colour interplay. No effort is made to award them definitive shape; rather the focus is on the essence of flesh and blood within the physical world. Through long practice Zahangir has mastered his ability to produce such an effect, aided by close study of the Oriental heavyweights. Importantly, while not deviating from institutional principle and discipline, it is here that he has developed his novel combination of Oriental wash and Occidental tertiary colour splotch.

Recurrently his works rely on the primary colours of the Bengali landscape: blue and green. The rainy season, the smell of earth drenched by rain, the gentle breeze and music's tune: all intermingle in his paintings.

In a nod to the artists of the New Bengal School, mythological heroines including Radha, Lalita, Bishakha and Behula frequently appear, in Shongkirton style. The presence of the Eternal Soul can be felt in particular in a series representing Raasleela on a moonlit Dolpurnima night. Here, the impressive unity between the natural world and artistic expression that Zahangir skilfully preserves is developed further into a new world where Nature's beauties are observed with great passion, virtues extolled beyond inhibition.

In my experience working alongside Zahangir in the same studio, I not only learnt a new life philosophy but discovered his artistic maturity in his confidence in creatively mixing colours to a degree that impressed time and again. Some of his works are semi-abstract, which also reflects this mature understanding. 

Another characteristic to impress is the selflessness of Zahangir's devotion to art. Even should he return to the studio late at night with an idea he will commence a new painting at once to be completed and uploaded on Facebook by dawn.

Among his themes it is unsurprising that a visual artist enamoured of music will incorporate melody, poetic rhythm and the playful gestures of damsels dancing. Such references include Gaudiya dance as well as Desh, Bageshree, Khamaj or Malkauns Raga, with a highlight being the depiction of the late-autumn twilight where, according to mythological narrative, Bengali women gather and dally.

Another early series from this artist, “Celestial View of the Earth from Space” is represented, which offers a distinctive style of thick dots to depict a bird's eye view, in recognition of the overarching beauty of river, field and forest. This series demonstrates the breadth of the artist's imagination.

In the series “Mystique Romance of the Woods,” Zahangir documents Nature's soulful silence. Paintings here include surreal floral and arboreal imagery, clouds and water, almost as a range of characters from a novel, with colour enlisted to convey beauty's allure. A theme that harks back to the artist's wanderlust and strong communion with nature, these paintings are so moving as to offer the viewer the chance to communicate independently with each character.

The series “Sorachitra of Bengal” alludes to folk art in a new language, while a further series “Post-mortem of Post-modren Painting” delves into an imaginative chemistry of flowers, trees and female physique. An outstanding painting, “Song of Silence” meanwhile offers an expanse of trees with sparks of light filling apertures from some distance, a light-and-shade combination formed of nostalgia for childhood.

The task of selecting works for “The Uncaged” from the hundreds of images that comprise Zahangir's catalogue was arduous; but the result is an exhibition that tantalises in its representation of the artist's breadth of skill and purposeful progression.

The exhibition at La Galerie, at Alliance Française in Dhanmondi, is open from Monday to Thursday, 3 pm to 9 pm and on Friday and Saturday from 9 am to12 noon and 5 pm to 8 pm until December 15. On the final evening there will be a closing ceremony featuring music and dance. 

Dr Malay Bala teaches at the University of Dhaka as Associate Professor at the Department of Oriental Art in the Faculty of Fine Art.

M A Hye Milton serves the Government of Bangladesh as Senior Assistant Secretary at the Security Services Division, Ministry of Home Affairs. Andrew Eagle works at The Daily Star and is an art connoisseur. 

Comments

The boy in the black suit

The year is 1980 something. I am 10/12 years old. My entire family is sitting in front of the TV on the eve of Eid, bubbling with excitement. Soon, Ananda Mela will come on. Eid was a lot of fun back then. There were three major attractions—new clothes, money received as salami, and Eid Ananado Mela. The programme begins. The anchor appears looking debonair and very handsome in his black suit. A few minutes later, my mother says “eicheley tar uchcharon bhalo” (This boy has good pronunciation)! My mother, who was militant about pronunciation, rarely complimented anyone's Bangla. To pass her test, you had to be really good. This “boy” in the black suit was really that good!

Fast forward 20 some years. I am at the bedside of my dear friend Rumana Manzur (Hema) at Labaid hospital. Her story was all over the news. Her husband's brutal attack on her left her blinded. Many well-known individuals were coming to see her and to share their good wishes and prayers. Most stood at a distance, stayed for a few minutes, then left. On the second day, Annisul Huq came. He walked right up to Hema and placed his hand on her feet. Hema, even in that state, gasped, started to struggle to sit up and reach the hands on her feet. Sensing her embarrassment, Mr Huq said: “You are my daughter. Aren't you? Aren't you?” Neither said much after that. Hema wept in silence. The hand on her feet stayed where it was.

Fast forward another six years. It is now 2017. I am at the new office of Dhaka North City Corporation (DNCC), waiting for a high up official to meet with me. The official had asked me to come at 11 am. I had been waiting for three hours. I was used to waiting long hours at government offices. At around 2:30 pm, I see the mayor and his PS Mizan bhai walking into his office. A few minutes later, my phone rings. It's Mizan bhai. He asks “Apa, did you have a meeting with sir (the mayor)? I reply “No, Mizan bhai, I am waiting to meet with “Mr X.” Mizan bhai says “ok,” then hangs up. Seconds later, Mr X comes out of his room hurriedly, sees me (for the 17th time that day), and says, “Oh you are here already! I had been waiting for you for a long time!”

The day I met Mr Annisul Huq for the first time was when he became our mayor. I was called into a meeting with the then CEO of DNCC who had been giving us hell with our work with the dogs. The discussion began between me and the CEO. Soon enough, I broke into an argument with him and the volume of my voice crossed the acceptable limit. My inner voice kept saying to me: “Shut up, you fool! You are ruining your first and only opportunity to impress the mayor! He is never going to support you if you speak to his staff this way!" l listened to the voice, quickly composed myself and when I managed to look at the Mayor, I saw him shaking his legs in amusement and thoroughly enjoying the 'drama' with a witty smirk on his face. All he needed was some popcorn.

A few months later, the Mayor inaugurated our Dog population Management Programme in Dhaka's Zone 3. He let us set up a state-of-the-art spay neuter clinic inside the brand new Mohakhali DNCC market, bought us two brand new dog catching vehicles within months, and made sure that our programme ran smoothly. On the day of the inauguration, he asked me before his speech “What would you like me to say”? I said “Only what you mean, Sir.” The ever-eloquent Mayor of ours delivered the most heart-warming speech, referring to his daughter (in-law) Nabila and his son Navid and how their love for dogs transformed him. Fed up by the constant pressure from the VIPs to get rid of dogs, once in a while he would call me with absurd propositions such as hiring a huge truck and hauling all the Dhaka dogs to Neverland. I would chuckle and he would then move on to discussing the status of our work and how else we could be more effective and efficient. The essence of Annisul Huq was just that. If he saw the sense in something, he pursued it no matter what the popular opinion was. He was never impressed, influenced or intimidated by big names. If you wanted to impress him, you better had big ideas!

I always wanted to meet the “boy” with beautiful Bangla, but I was too young. I wanted to say a few words to the deeply compassionate man, who extended his fatherly love to my friend, but it wasn't the right time. But the lucky me got to work under the guidance of an uber cool, super dynamic mayor, which this city had never seen. I was his fan as a kid. I was his fan as a young woman. I became his biggest fan as a Dhaka resident.

Today, I weep for my favourite TV anchor, my favourite mayor, and one of my favourite people. I will miss you looking out for me and for Obhoyaronno. I never got to tell you how much I admired and respected you, but I suppose you know that by now. Rest in peace, Annisul Huq. Dhaka's good fortune was too short-lived.

Rubaiya Ahmad is Founder, Obhoyaronno - Bangladesh Animal Welfare Foundation.

Comments

How to survive ride sharing without breaking your back …and other tips

In Bangladesh, the roads are not meant for every Tamim, Dip and Harun. There is only one way you can truly utilise roads and reach your destination intentionally, fashionably late. That is if you're a government official, child of a government official or close relative of that child of a government official. Only then can you be like Moses and have the wrong side of the roads part for you.

For the rest of us, we have to suffer the jams in the cacophonous silence of horns blaring needlessly. We can't resort to our own cars because most of us still do not have our own cars. We have to plead with the men in green andyellow vehicles to take us before our boss fires us. Oh, how I hate taxis.

A couple of years ago, ride sharing started to become a thing. With so many cars and bikes helplessly heading emptily to a similar destination, it only made sense to use them for lifts. Pathao and Uber entered the scene offering bikes and cars respectively. Now using your phone you can avail a nearby car or bike and be off to enjoy your time in traffic. Bonus includes no haggling over fare. The days of hearing taxi guys suggesting, 'Mama, gimme150 taka, your headphonesand socks over the meter fare or I won't go' are over for now.

Except, it is not all sunshine and rainbows. Ride sharing has its quirks and my 'Almost Useful Life Hacks' attempt to almost make you a pro at traveling in someone else's car.

When to call

The GPS loves fooling around. It's like that annoying friend or sibling who will repeatedly offer you that toy/chocolate bar/your phone and pull it away as you reach out. That too, multiple times thinking it is the funniest thing since Trump started speaking at political rallies.

The GPS will fool you into thinking the car or bike you want is right there near your house. The next second it is shown somewhere in Zimbabwe instead of Dhanmondi. But, there is a trick to making the GPS pin down everything accurately. You go to the toilet for any last minute tinkling and suddenly the universe aligns everything for you. Your ride is not only found, it is right there at your doorstep, calling you. It becomes a mad dash to wash your hands and answer the phone.

Every Uber is white or silver

Apparently, Uber has cars of many different colours. Even officials from Uber have insisted they have red, blue and even a green car on their service. But all I ever get is whiteor silver. And unless you know your cars, all look like badly cooked dumplings because mostof these cars are just that. But unlike dumplings, the insides usually do not smell of onions.

To identify quickly, I have started asking drivers about stickers, scratchers, dents on their cars. This is easier with UberX as most cars are older and often a little dinged up. With bikes though, you need to stand around waving your hands in the air like you just don't care till they spot you.

Riding discomfort

When it comes to bikes, people have different preferences. I personally like the sports bikes despite these having minimal cushioning for the rear passenger bums. They have better suspension thatdoesnot bottom out like standard commuter bikes. As a result, your backbone feels less compressed after a ride across our potholed streets.

As for cars, it's simple. Pick the right car as long as it is not a Toyota Probox. That's the car that looks like a coffin on wheels for small dogs. You know for a fact you will probably have to wait in traffic for quite a while. A Probox has the worst rear seat in existence. That is because it was designed to carry dead livestock instead of passengers. With a CNG kit fitted behind, the passengers have to deal with a completely upright rear seat and legroom fit for a 3-month-old baby. I once tried lying down during a three-hour trip during heavy rain. The typically polite driver offered me cold wet wipes as compensation.

How to sit on a bike

This is a tip for the ladies that use motorbikes regularly. They aren't particularly comfortable with hugging a new, unknown man that isn't Chris Hemsworth. Their trick is to place a flat purse or bag in between and sit comfortably. I suggested a pillow as it would provide even greater degrees of comfort. Perhaps all the bike sharing services can take that up as a tip. On a more realistic note, SAM (Share A Motorcycle) is starting a new service called Pink SAM used by the women, for the women.

What next

Piggy Uber could be a thing. Even with motorbikes, I still spend an inordinate amount of time sitting in traffic. The service could round up all the non-oily bodybuilders in the country and start a piggyback service for people traveling short distances. You just hop on someone's back and off you go. For longer distances through narrow alleys, a service involving those two wheeled contraptions called mobility scooters used by very fat cops in the western world.

Ehsanur Raza Ronny is a confused dad, all-round car guy, model car builder, and cartoonist. He is also Editor of Shift (automobiles), Bytes (technology), and Next Step (career) of The Daily Star.

Comments

Pages

push notification