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The Sorrowed Chronicle of the Locality, Bhabadaho … In Deep-seated Misery.
February, 21, 2008 (Hridoye Mati O Manush stepping into 5 years of operation successfully)
- Internet Edition
Bangladesh…hearing the roar of the Bay of Bengal, you would easily have a handle on the message that 3/4th of earth is filled with water and 1/3rd of it, is land. In other words, Bangladesh is belted up by numerous rivers, from where our mother-tongue, culture and all our meanings of life could be easily unearthed. Human being lives on land. Neither he is amphibious nor is he aquatic. Water carries the name of life on one side of the coin, but, on the other, there are times when life gets stuck in the wildness of water. The expectation and yearning of the citizen becomes hollow and frozen. The situation gives us hint of a Lalon song, “Joler Ruyo Joler Shurshi, Joleri Chaton, Joleri Pith Kabari, Joleri Aton” (Water on the top, Water beneath, Water on right and left, Water goes within, Water everywhere). You may come across all these in the secluded and neglected water-based community, Bhabadaho. People here communicate in Bengali…dream in Bengali as well. And, they are the representatives of the Bengal. No, we should not fix on the notion that from the ancient period, this community was water-doomed. The sorrow-chronicle is just 27 years old. Distinct and single perhaps is the history, but the expansion of sufferings is colossal. The account of loss is quite prolonged. The melancholic chapter of people’s distress is beggaring description.
A total of forty-six villages from the four Upazilas, Jessore Sadar, Manirampur, Keshabpur and Abhoynagar have now become the water-lands. Whilom, these places were absolutely scorched. Wealth and abundance of various crops in the three-crop land and what not! Eight thousand hectares of lands of this gigantic community are now under water, in crop-less and barren mode! Twenty thousands of families are now in the line of misery and affliction. Each year, on an average, the farmers are getting deprived of an approximate produce of eighty crore taka. All these accounts are in the documents of the agriculture department and customarily known among the people. But, there is no actual metre to get the perfect idea on the agony of the people, living in this region. Beforehand, the situation was even worse. Daohor Mohishahati village. One of the elders of the village is, Bhadro Kanti Mandal. He is in dilemma to sort out exactly, for how long he is in grief. They just can’t bear the fate of their lives.
The word, ‘Bhabadaho’ came from one of the ancient river-mouths. Here were many prehistoric river-mouths; the rivers were Teka, Srinodi and Harihar. This place was known as ‘Daho’. Superstitious beliefs are there, concerning ‘Daho’- that the current was so very mighty that even birds couldn’t fly over it, let alone other animals. From this myth, the name, ‘Bhabadaho’ derived. Once the monstrous ‘Daho’ became the focal point of trouncing of uncountable human lives. No, the water-kingdom of Bhabadaho hasn’t become any productive arena. You wouldn’t even find any fish over here. Lives of whom are now in deep peril, to them plan-wise fish-cultivation is somewhat fruitless appeal. Arun Mandal is trying to hunt down fish from the marshland. Realistically, is he getting anything? We reached Mohishahati village on boat after 14-15 km journey from Alipur. Alas! Only routinely we may call it a ‘village’. This is basically a locality, endlessly harnessed by water-bodies. It seems that water is chasing them from time immemorial. Those who live barely, their case is entirely different. But, whose lives don’t run at all and whose sufferings and the load of age make lives even thornier- would their stories ever reach anyone at all?
The once celebrated folklore of Bhabadaho lands has now become the folklore of marshland among all age-groups. They move by some means while building small culverts on the water. There is just no boundary of torment in case of emergency medication. To move in water is really precarious for the children and old-aged people. Many accidents have already taken place over here. And, the distress of the agriculture-oriented people has no boundary, as well. Some ponder on while judging it as a divine affliction…they blame their fate.
Thumbs down…this is not the commandment of fate; rather, the suffering is human-made. I have already told you about the four Upazilas. The entire rain-water used to fall into the Shibla river, after crossing Teka, Srinodi, Harihar and Kharnia. In summer, saline water used to make a way into all the river-ways. And, consequently, the crops were being damaged entirely. During 60s, the WAPDA constructed 39 spans in 40 sluice gates. Till 1980, 27 marshland water was extracted through those gates. During summer, those gates were being completely shut. Due to this, the saline water of the flow-tide was being obstructed; for which, the low-end of Harihar and Srinodi was filled up with silt. As the marshlands were below 7-8 feet of the river-depth, that’s why the rain-water started amassing. As the extraction ways were completely shut, that’s the reason why the water got permanently stuck over here. This is the largest water-stuck community of the country. After being doomed under water for a long time, many of the wreckages are personified. We had noticed our red and green map through the deserted building of Mohishahati Primary School.
The representatives of this region watch all these pains and sufferings from a very close position; still, they also have limitations in doing anything.
From one marshland to the other. Ah! Bhabadaho. Now this locality is more known by these marshland names: Mukheshwari, Dumuria, Jhikra, Bakar, Dohor Moshirhat, Kedaria, Peyara, Bula, Jialdaha, Harina, Bhayna, and Mukli. This is the main Bhabadaho marshland. After travelling for a long time by boat, we reached Shundoli School & College. For a long time, surrounding area including this school, the whole area was submerged. It’s only been a few days that this area has risen out from the water. Though, most of the surrounding areas are still under water. To the teachers and the students of the school…to each and everyone, the agony of Bhabadaho is all the same. Bhabadaho has now become the analysis sector for many organizations and institutions. Funds do arrive here for the upgrade of lifestyle, but where is the real effectivity of the fund?
Solely for Bhabadaho, not only a large community is counting the days of deprivation, but a terrifying collapse has arrived in all the socio-economic sectors, including agriculture. The social crisis of the region has become more dominant than the health problem. Once, these regions of Jessore were full of variety of fruits and crops. The people, living here, had the rhythm of going onward from each and every aspect. Smiles and delight was all around. And, it’s already been more than two epochs that their lives are now in deep…black…darkness. Although they have demands and rights like any other citizen of the independent Bangladesh, still they shed tears, shying away from everyone. In the darkness, these people encounter queries…Why they are the ones who are forced to suffer the lamentation?
We stand against numerous questions…Wouldn’t the agriculture of this region ever become lively? Won’t the thousands of people get relief from this misery? Today is the International Mother Language Day. This is the day when the spirited youth of Bengal earned the right of our mother tongue while sacrificing their valuable blood. Following this footstep, an entirely independent land had risen back at that time. Even in the independent homeland, people from a large community had to face an unexpected consequence. All the age-groups, starting from children to the old, wants this misery to end…this is their heartfelt urge.
Our Highest Honour for the Heroic Martyrs of the Glorious Language Movement.
Shykh Seraj
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