Shattered yet proud

This is the only photo in which all of them are together – Shamsunnahar, her husband Ripon and their two kids. Now that Ripon is no more, this photograph remains one of the greatest treasures of the family. Photo: Palash Khan

The memorial at Nimtoli, Nabab Katra, is not only a reminder of great loss for Rimi, 3, and Samia, 14, but a source of pride because it tells the story of their father's heroic deeds.
Their father Ripon, a small businessman, who sold bubble-toys in front of schools in Dhanmondi, sacrificed his life trying to save others from the devastating Nimtoli fire on June 3, 2010.
“When the fire started around 7:30pm, my husband started receiving mobile phone calls from his friend Haider's mother. Ripon told me that she sought his help to rescue them from the fire as Haider himself was out of town,” said Shamshunnahar, 27, relating the story of the ill-fated day that changed her life.
Though she forbade her husband to go to the rescue, Ripon left without saying goodbye.
“I found him on the veranda of the Burn Unit of Dhaka Medical College at 1:00 am. He only asked for his mother twice and then lost consciousness,” recalls Shamsunnahar.
After saving five members of his friend's family from the ground floor of the two storey building adjacent to Gulzar Khan's house, from where the fire generated, Ripon had gone to the first floor.
“When the lower part of his trousers caught fire he jumped from the first floor. Unfortunately, others who jumped to escape the fire fell on him. The fall broke his spinal cord and ruptured his bladder,” Shamsunnahar said, showing the X-rays images of Ripon's body.
With the breadwinner of the family gone, Shamshunnahar, who completed studies up to class eight, now has to find a new income source.
Ignoring her in-laws' pressure to spend the Tk 1 lakh government compensation for the victims of Nimtoli, Shamshunnahar has kept it as a fixed deposit in the bank. “I need to secure my daughters' futures,” she said.
Shamshunnahar now works as a tutor teaching the Arabic alphabet in the neighbourhood. “I earn Tk 2500 per month but most of it is spent on my elder daughter's education expenses which amount to Tk 2000,” she said.
“Next year she will take her Junior School Certificate examination which will require extra tuition and expense,” she anticipates.
“All I ask for is a respectable job that can pay for my daughters' educations, or some help to start a small business,” she implores, showing her tailoring work lying beside the sewing machine that stands in one corner of her one-room flat.
The tin-shed flat is on the 3rd floor of her mother-in-law's four-storey house which is shared by Ripon's three brothers.
With families of their own to look after, they cannot provide much financial support to their nieces. “Family members try to help during festivals like Eid, giving my two grand-daughters gifts according to their ability,” said Shamena, Ripon's 60-year-old mother.
“I am an orphan and keeping that in mind Ripon never misbehaved with me,” said Shamshunnahar remembering her husband.
Noting how hard it is to live in this society as a young widow, Shamshunnar said, “I will not marry again Apa. I want to live a respectable life bringing up my daughters and making sure they lead a good life.”