Living hard times for a better tomorrow

It takes a few seconds to adjust the vision in the darkness. And even before the complete adjustment of vision, the nose takes the first samples of what could be seen inside. The air reeks like a mixer of rat droppings, unwashed clothes, sweat and all sorts of Indian spices.

Gradually the eyes get adjusted to the darkness inside and a room - hardly ten feet in length and eight in width - comes into full view. Five double bunks have crammed the room and in the corner lies the cooking paraphernalia including some sauce pans, a pack of eggs and a few bottles containing oil and spices.

On the bunks lie some lungi-clad dark figures, sweating and lost in deep slumber. Small table fans tied to the bunks try to blow away the tropical heat that leaves a sweltering sway over Singapore.

"Come in, please," says bare-breasted Mizan. "I know, this place is pretty dirty, but this is our life."

Mizan (24), who came here two-and-a-half years ago, is only one of the estimated 65,000 Bangladeshi workers, mostly illegal, who are toiling in Singapore for a better life. For the small East Asian nation, they are a necessity that the country loves to overlook. The tall high-rise buildings of Singapore are a testimony to their contribution to the economy. Without them, there would be no one to service the sewage system or fix the fittings or other niggardly jobs that the Singaporeans love to avoid. And yet, in sharp contrast to the shiny Singapore city life style, these Bangladeshis live in a gutter-like environment.

"I am an illegal here," says Mizan in his small room on the fifth floor of an apartment at city's Deskar Road, adding "my employer also knows this, but he wouldn't hand me over to the police because I work for half the wage of a Singaporean. Besides, there are a few locals who would do my kind of job, which is fixing sewerage lines."

Just then a gasping young man, Sujan, in his early 20s entered the room in a hurry and started heaving sighs of relief. "Oops, the police are raiding today," he announced and the other figures in the room immediately sprang up on their beds. "We were walking down the road and suddenly this police car pulled over and started checking the documents. Some Indians got caught. Its quite lucky that we managed to back away before they could trace us."

For the illegal workers in the thriving Singapore city, police trouble is an usual event and one needs lucks to get away with these troubles.

"My work permit has expired and I am carrying the photocopy of another guy's permit," says Sujan. "I have just changed the photograph. Whenever the police catch me, I immediately get down to convincing them that the original one is with my employer. Sometimes, they call my employer who lies to them simply to save the cheap labour he gets from me."

For a native Singaporean worker, the wage is around 40 Singapore dollars a day and he is also entitled to a lot of benefits. But for a Bangladeshi one, this is just 15 Singapore dollars a day with three dollars for overtime.

"When I got nabbed last year, they flogged me four times and detained me for 30 days. Then I was let out for 52 days to work and earn my ticket back home. But I disregarded the ultimatum and am still here," says a 35 year old Harun who hails from Munshiganj.

Every month, over 300 illegal Bangladeshi workers get nabbed in Singapore. According to the Bangladesh Embassy in Singapore, 358 illegal workers were arrested in August 1999 and 112 were returned home. In September, 380 persons were arrested and 128 sent back, in October 350 got caught and 118 deported and in November, 348 were arrested while 120 were returned home. The embassy still has not received the arrest figure for December, but officials there said that 94 were deported that month.

For the illegal workers, friendship is something that lasts as long you are alive and not caught by the police.

"My cousin died in an accident last year, but I did not dare to go and see his body because both of us were illegal," says Mohsin. "These are our survival tactics here in Singapore. When someone dies or gets caught by the police, we just forget him."

Every year some 10 to 15 Bangladeshi workers die in Singapore, mostly in their construction workplaces, according to the Bangladesh Embassy.

But how can an illegal worker ever go back to his country? "That's no problem," says Harun grinning. "I will get a PC."

PC? What's that? "Don't you know? It stands for photo change," he explains. "There are agents here who always get hold of valid passports of the newly-arrived people. They will change the photo and place yours for some fees. This you can use to quit the country."

He does not know what fate he will meet if gets caught again. But whatever it is, Harun is desperate to stay back as his own country offers no future for him who is only a high school pass.

Amin, who hails from Mymensingh, is even better educated and has been in Singapore for four years now. He willingly lays bare his heart and says a lot about the life in Singapore, but would not talk his about qualification or wouldn't give even his full name.

"I paid two lakh taka to the manpower agent to come here," he says. "Now I can save about Tk 10,000 a month. A bunk in a similar room costs me $120 and I spend $40 to $60 on food and $30 as transport cost."

Amin sends his savings back home, but never uses the official channel. "We never go near any official thing, because you never know what may creep out from there when you are an illegal. I haven't seen anyone sending his money home through the banks. We rather prefer the hundi channel."

And this hundi business is always thriving in the Little India of Singapore. The place has been named so because of the vast Indian population in this part of the city. According to the official of a Bangladeshi bank in Singapore, there are at least 40 such organised hundi operators who handle about Tk 30 crore of the Bangladeshi workers' money a month.

As the day edges closer to the evening, the workers put on their best outfit. It's a Sunday, the big get-together day for the Bangladeshi workers. On the streets of Little India, thousands of Bangladeshi labourers loiter around in groups, gossiping and exchanging market intelligence.

"Is there a job in your place? If there's any, let me know."

"How much are you getting now?"

"Bashar is going home next week. If you want, you can send your money with him."

" Do you know, police caught Nasim yesterday?"

Words like these fly around, which very much look like any place here in Dhaka - brisk, populous, dirty and chaotic.

The Dhaka Hotel at a corner of the Deskar Road is, as usual, busy in serving its customers foods like muri (puffed rice) mixed with Kebab, dal puri, khichuri and biryani. Aslam and his four friends are sitting on a table on the street and are relishing khichuri. From Munishiganj Mart across the road, the air is filled with high pitch sound of Bangla folk songs. A further down the road, sex-workers in lingerie flirt with the customers. For many of the Bangladeshi workers, this is their only source of entertainment in life after toiling a hard week. Big posters in Bangla reading "Use condoms, be safe" hardly matters to them.