Loss that can never be compensated

Ramjan Ali does not drive a covered van anymore, or any vehicle for that matter. He does not dare. Because driving, his very occupation, reminds him of the charred body of his innocent son who had died an agonising death more than a year ago.

Those horrifying memories of his 14-year-old son, Monir, writhing in excruciating pain still haunt him, flashing across his mind every now and then.

"Often in my dreams I see my son burning in pain. I cannot sleep," said Ramjan. "He was burnt in front of my eyes and I just can't forget that scene. When I walk in the streets, I see him walking along with me, smiling sometimes. But I feel scared to drive again," Ramjan told The Daily Star at his Kaliakoir home in Gazipur.

Due to Monir's repeated pleas, Ramjan had brought his son to Dhaka to show him the city he had never been to. He had hardly imagined that it would be his last trip with his son.

Monir was burnt inside his father's covered van while returning home from Gazipur on November 4, 2013, when pro-hartal pickets set fire to the van at Gazipur Chowrasta with the onset of then BNP-led 18-party alliance's 60-hour shutdown across the country.

With over 95 percent burns, Monir died at the Institute of Burn and Plastic Surgery of Dhaka Medical College Hospital on November 7.

The fifth-grader had nothing to do with politics; he had nonetheless fallen prey to the mindless violence that the country saw before the one-sided January 5 national polls last year.

The family earlier in 2011 had lost their daughter, Mukta Ara, in a road accident. Monir's death only dealt a double blow, forcing his father to abandon his occupation.

His mother Monowara Begum often feels sick thinking of Monir. Very often she finds herself feeling his son's clothes and schoolbag. "Sometimes I call out his name mistakenly," Monowara said.

The family faced financial hardship after Ramjan had given up driving. "Now I make my living by growing vegetables in a small land near my home," he said.

He, however, received a cheque of Tk 5,00,000 as compensation from a local lawmaker last month. But he could not say who exactly had given the money.

Monir, however, was not the lone victim of many forms of street violence that took place throughout 2013 and intensified before the January 5 elections last year.

According to statistics given by the Institute of Burn and Plastic Surgery, at least 30 people died in burn injuries during pre- and post-election related violence.

More than 200 such victims were treated as out-patients and at least 115 as in-patients at the institute, said Partha Sankar Pal, resident surgeon of the institute.

Some findings of The Daily Star also give a similar picture. At least 29 people were killed and 92 suffered critical burn injuries from arson and petrol bomb attacks in 2013, according to news items of the paper during that time.

On the occasion of the first anniversary of January 5 polls, The Daily Star reached out to some of the victims' families who have been forgotten by the people who are supposed to take care of them.

The political violence centring the national elections not only took valuable lives but also impoverished their families. Every family has stories of loss and hardship.

Take Morzina Begum for instance.

All was going well for her until her husband, Asad Gazi, 40, driver of a CNG-run three-wheeler, died on November 15, 2013, due to burn injuries he had suffered when pickets attacked his vehicle in Savar on November 3.

With Asad's death, the ehole family's future looked bleak.

Once a housewife, Morzina now works as a domestic help but her earning is inadequate to run her three-member family and bear the school expenses of her two children.

"It is becoming increasingly difficult for me to manage my family with this meagre income. My children cry for a hearty meal and new dresses. But I cannot fulfil their demands. It has become unbearable," she said with a choked voice.

She had already spent Tk 1.13 lakh for her husband's treatment at the burn institute. Of the total amount, Tk 40,000 was given by the prime minister's son Sajeeb Wazed Joy while the rest she managed by mortgaging the valuables she had.

Morzina lives in a small house at Mirhazirbagh at Jatrabari where the rent is Tk 1,600. She is yet to repay the mortgage money.

"After his [Asad] death, many people assured me of assistances. But none showed up in the last one year. Can you tell me where I should go? ... we don't do politics then why should we suffer for it?" she said.

Montu Chandra Pal also died the same day as Asad Gazi. Montu, a goldsmith, sustained 90 percent burns on November 10 after pickets in the capital's Laxmibazar had set alight a human hauler he was travelling in.

The death turned his wife's world upside down. His widowed wife Sanchita, aged around 25, also lost her child only four days into his birth. Now she lives all alone at her father's house at Pagla in Narayanganj.

Already saddled with poverty, her father Parash Pal, who lives on making idols of Hindu goddesses, does not know what to do with his daughter.

"None from her [Sanchita] in-laws house came to see her in the last one year. All the time she remains silence at home," he said.

Parash said after Montu's death they went to many places for assistance. Many people also gave them assurance but none have fulfilled their promises.

"I don't know what to do with my daughter... where to go," he sighed.

Al-Amin was happy to go home after sustaining severe burn injuries in his throat. A driver of human hauler, Al-Amin was burnt inside his vehicle on November 5, 2013, and took treatment at the burn institute for four months.

But his return was not much pleasant as he had to start a new battle. He lives in a tiny house now at Hazaribagh with a rent of Tk 6,500.

His family spent Tk 3 lakh for his treatment. Of the total money, he received Tk 1.5 lakh from the government and private donations. He had to borrow Tk 1 lakh from a cooperative society in Hazaribagh and the rest was managed from his family's savings.

To repay the loan, he now works seven days for a private medicine company without any days off.

"My physical condition is not completely well. Yet I work day and night to run my family and repay the loan," Al-Amin said.

Everybody in Al-Amin's family works. His mother works as a domestic help and his aged father pulls rickshaw. His wife and younger sister also contribute by packing locally made chocolates.

"Yet we are finding it very difficult to manage our monthly expenses. I don't know when good days will come again or if it will ever come at all," said Al-Amin's mother.