Under rows of tin sheds, ten yards from the no man’s land, Rohingya refugees were kept for the time being. The Rohingyas arrived not only from Ruthi Daung district, but also from Buthi Daung and Maung Dao. Each shed was twenty feet wide and eighty feet long. The sheds were open all around them. The sheds stood upon concrete pillars, ten feet apart.
Thousands of refugees took shelter under the tin sheds. Ten sheds were appropriated to the refugees from Aung Syke. The Molla clan was seen scattered under a shed, occupying a third of the shed. Some of them were lying or sitting on mats or blankets, while others watched helplessly what had been happening around them. Infants and children clung to their mothers for protection. Strangely, none were seen crying. The bitter truth had permeated into them that it was of no use if they cried. Matter of fact, the parents seemed more helpless than their children.
Rahim had his relatives among the refugees. All of them got shelter under the same shed. Abdul, Rahim’s first cousin, sat next to him, providing company at these difficult hours. He was ten years younger. Rahim fell sick while they had been on their way to the refugee camp. So, he lay down on a mat. So far in two days, twice he had the runs. With him, Abdul had brought packs of oral saline which was administered to Rahim. It stabilized his condition. Nonetheless, he was still very weak. No one among the refugees seemed as helpless as this old man. He suffered a psychological melt down after losing his elder son. That he would face this kind of ordeal in his lifetime, was a shocker to begin with. Consequently, he could be seen continuously whispering something to himself. Whenever asked, he would stop, and the person asking the question would be given a blank look. Then he would say, “Trying to balance the balance sheet of my life. Now I know, I’ve been a novice in this.”
Rahim’s miserable state would make Hajera Begum cry. With a choking voice she would say, “I bear witness that you’ve fulfilled your responsibilities without any kind of negligence. You never usurped anyone’s right, never harbored malice towards anyone. On the Day of Judgment, His mercy will encompass you. Surely, He’ll make it easier for you to account for your actions. So what if you’re a novice in accounting, our Lord is an immaculate accountant.” These reassuring words acted like a medicine on the feeble old man. He would stop murmuring, and then close his eyes. Soon he would fall asleep, while Hajera Begum gently ran her fingers through his untidy hair.
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In the filthy atmosphere of their temporary shelter, within a few days, the refugees were in an utterly desperate state. Together, the filthy atmosphere and the August heat devastated the lives of each and every resident of the shelter. The women folks faced the greatest hurdles. Only a handful of tube wells in the colossal refugee camp, made washing and cooking truly a daunting task.
This was the glimpse of life of the refugees in their temporary shelter. A week after their arrival at the camp, under the supervision of the UN’s desk for the refugees, the task of preparing a list of the refugees began. The refugees were told, soon they would be relocated to their permanent camp at Shamlapur. When the time came, those refugees from Aung Syke received everything they needed from the UN agency to build their own shacks. In total, the Mollah clan built ten shacksp. Three of them were allocated to Rahim and his elder brother’s family.
Rahim, his wife and his daughter in law moved to one of the shacks. The shack had wicker walls around it and a tin roof. Two small openings on either side of the hut formed the windows. Four wooden posts held the thatched roof over the space in front of the shack. This space was to be used as veranda. Kulsum put a large polythene over the thatched roof of the veranda, so that it would protect the roof of the veranda from natural elements. The size of the shack did not exceed three hundred square feet. The floor of the shack was raised a couple of inches from the surrounding ground. A shady tree next to the shack provided protection to the shack from the scorching sun.
Rahim performed additional salat as a sign of gratitude to the Almighty, right after he had stepped into his new abode. Their new address didn’t have any store, or a teak grove, or farmland around it, but still, they had no complaint or grudge. In that flimsy shack, at least they could sleep well at night. No one was going to harass them or label them as outsiders with the intention to evict them from their little shack.
Because of Hajera’s insistence, they brought a kerosene stove with them. For the time being, they were to use that stove for cooking. Once they had fully settled down, they would have an earthen stove in the space before the shack. The first meal in their new residence comprised of mashed potatoes, smashed boiled egg and lentil.
Rahim also asked his brother’s family to have dinner with them. In a foreign land, they couldn’t afford to be isolated from each other. At these uncertain times, they were to look after each other. In time of danger, his cousin and nephews would have to play the role of his sons. From then on, he would have to seek their assistance, be it for buying groceries, or getting medication.