Surviving July 1
Don't worry, I'm also staying put. I'll just be gone for the Eid break; once I'm back, we can sing Akele Hum, Akele Tum together since it'll best describe our situation," I told my friend in jest as we discussed the looming holidays ahead.
It was June 2016 and we were in Dhaka. That year, the week-long Eid holidays overlapped with the summer holidays and so most expats were heading home for the long break. But not us. I couldn't get away from work and my friend had her daughter home from the US and interning at a bank.
It was the last playful sentence that I would utter for a long time.
Things can change in a heartbeat, and for all our ability to plan ahead, we are caught unawares when disaster strikes. Our world came crashing down on July 1, 2016. Dhaka saw one of the worst terrorist attacks of all times, with the hostage crisis spiralling into brutality that chilled the international community. My friend's daughter was one of the victims, as mindless violence claimed innocent lives one after the other. A number of Japanese, Italian, American expats were killed as were the trio of friends comprising Abinta, Faraaz and Tarishi. According to reports, Faraaz, a Bangladeshi Muslim, refused to leave his friends when the terrorists offered him freedom and he had to give his life for that. Many Indians had been living here for decades, despite the various political upheavals. The situation had never seemed so bleak. Never before had the expat community felt so close to a breakdown.
At the time of the incident, many expats had already left for the holidays. The horrific incident meant that overnight, several remaining families transferred their children to schools back home. Families were split as the womenfolk stayed back with them and the men returned to continue their livelihoods.
A few decided to stick it out in Dhaka. As did my husband and I when we returned within a week. We did not have children at that time. Also, I was working full-time and could not just abruptly give up my role. However, it was the most difficult time that we had faced, with all our friends still staying away; the few who did return were not sure that they would continue here. Overnight, our carefully built life in Dhaka had collapsed and we were left floundering. Our family and well-wishers from all over the world "counselled" us to leave immediately but it is not a simple matter to just pack up and go, leaving behind a job, a business, a life…
In the aftermath of the attack, whispers relating to conspiracy theories started doing the rounds. This temporarily increased the sense of panic. However, logic and sense prevailed—such attacks have no religion and no nationality, as was borne out by terrorist attacks in other parts of the world.
It was not the first time that we were facing uncertainty in a foreign land. We were in Cairo in 2011, when the Arab Spring came to Egypt. This time around, it felt different. It was the first time that we had experienced such brutality first-hand. Losing Tarishi hit us hard—we had known her closely, had countless beautiful memories with the Jain family. The shock and horror were that much more acute. It was that much more difficult to treat violence like something that happened to other people.
During the day, while at work, it was easy to forget about the trauma. Work was the solace. But the evenings and nights were a different matter—with the sense of insecurity heightened with all discussions centring almost exclusively on the incident and its fallout. A number of my friends, Indians as well as others, left abruptly and there was not even a chance to say farewells. Carefully laid out plans for post-holiday activities seemed to be a figment of my imagination.
Following the incident, it was reported that a large number of militants had been caught and a huge cache of arms recovered, a number of attacks averted. Security checkpoints were erected in the expat residential areas, and soon they became part of the regular drill. The exceptional soon became the new normal. Our lives seemed divided into "before" and "after".
The silver lining has been the city of Dhaka and its people—the real heroes have been the "survivors" who have shown resilience and a defiant attitude in the face of adversity, bereavement and despair. The last couple of years has seen many commemorations for the martyrs; but at the same time, there has been a renewal of the pledge to fight terrorism. The bereaved families have honoured the memory of their departed ones by setting up foundations that are doing some extraordinary work with the less advantaged and the under-privileged.
In the immediate aftermath of the incident, advisories were issued to avoid cafés and restaurants after dusk. The restaurateurs were seriously concerned about the future. However, it is hard to put down a rising star—the burgeoning Bangladesh economy means more disposable incomes. The Dhakaiites with their never-say-die attitude are frequenting the many new cafés and restaurants that have opened their doors in the city. The city now boasts of many international chains of eateries, compared to just a few earlier.
One of the perks of living in Dhaka—nay, in Bangladesh—as anyone will tell you, is the plethora of cultural events that take place during its short winters. The majority of them were not cancelled even in the months following the attack and yet others are back with a bigger canvas. The security machinery of the city feels more responsive and proactive.
The attack had led to an exodus of the international community from Dhaka. But this last year, there has been a steady inflow again. For the newbies, there is no "before" to contend with. Rather, there is the allure of a city that offers a comfortable living for the expat community and a country that holds the promise of an economic boom. For the Indian expat community, there is the added advantage of being close to home to make a dash for all those family weddings, and likewise, family emergencies.
For us, the "after" has been salvaged by the close circle of friends that we have built over the years. Socialising for us has mostly consisted of meeting with friends and eating together, celebrating birthdays, anniversaries and festivals as a family. Though steadily improving on this front, the city still offers limited options for leisure, for families to do their own thing in the evenings and on weekends. Also, most of the expat community is concentrated in the tri-state area; hence the frequent meet-ups with friends is the only recreation, leading to intimate friendships which continue even after we are no longer physically in the same place. When many of our Indian friends relocated due to the attack, our Bangladeshi friends stepped up. The famed Bengali propensity for adda means that we continue to be surrounded by laughter and friendship and their innate warmth makes them the family that we don't have here.
My husband and I are still in Dhaka, together with the addition to the family—our one-year-old daughter. Bangladesh is also the place that my husband has chosen to embark on his entrepreneurial journey. These make up a lot of positives for a place that I was reluctant to move to and had seemed unappealing after Cairo, when I came for the recce visit five years ago…
Sankalita Shome is a social innovations consultant working with designing of Socio Techno ecosystems and an advisor to HerStory Foundation and Toru.
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