Category: Uncategorized

By Saydia Gulrukh

Sodork or Totteleng

Rupan Chakma?s Mother

A member of Hill Women?s Federation was waiting at the bus stop. We took a rickshaw to the public gathering. The school yard was full and bursting at the seams, but people were still coming. There were posters of Kalpona Chakma. A big red banner demanded the punishment of those who had abducted her. Placards demanded an end to harassment by military personnel, an end to violence against women by both army and settler. I breathed a sigh of relief; I was saved from shameless displays of Bengali culture here.
The speakers were gathering on stage, a friend whispered in my ear, that’s Rupan Chakma?s mother, in the front row. Rupan was studying in class six, in Rupkari Bahumukhi High School. After Kalpona’s abduction, he became very active in Pahari Chatra Parishad (PCP).? Two weeks after her abduction (June 28, 1996), when civil and military authorities had been equally busy in covering up their involvement, three Pahari organisations called a blockade, in Marishya, to protest her abduction. During the protest, police opened fire, Rupon was killed along with Monotosh, Shukesh and Shomorbijoy Chakma.
That evening, I went to Rupan?s house. His mother told me about the nightmare she had the night before Rupan Chakma was killed. In her dream, she saw herself killing a dog mercilessly, with a dagger. She was full of anguish and an untold fear the next morning. She was unable to do anything, to concentrate on anything during the day. She had asked her elder son to go look for Rupan. As she spoke, she brought a photograph of Rupan. It was a studio photo, Rupan was sitting on a motor cycle. As she passed me the photograph bound in a wooden frame, she said, ?It?s been thirteen years, his face is fading.?
There are eye witnesses to Rupan?s killing. I met them at the Rupakari High School playground. We sat in a circle. At the other end of the play ground stands a Shaheed Minar, this one commemorates the sacrifice of Rupan, Manotosh, Shukesh and Samarbijoy Chakma. They had all been students of this school when they had been killed. Rupan?s friend began, ?In those days, the PCP had student wings even at the school level, military harassment was an everyday matter. Rupan was not an active member, but he was a strong supporter of PCP. Kalpana?s abduction was so unjust, so cruel, we thought we must do something. We just had to. I was there with him at the rally, it could have been me, I saw a Bengali settler snatch a rifle from a BDR, and he just began shooting.? After a slight pause, he asked me, ?What kind of administration is that that allows an ordinary person, one who has no authority, grab a weapon, and open fire on us, on unarmed civilians?? Even though I knew the answer, I still asked him, ?Was there ever a police case, have you ever given your testimony?? He replied, ?No. No one has asked me to testify.?

Our Circle of Grief

Since 1971, we have been absorbed in building a nation-state exclusively for Bengalis. Our circle of grief reflects that. It excludes all others. We are unable to inhale the fragrance of any flowers but Shapla, Shaluk or Kathal chapa. Our hearts weep only for Bengali mothers, not for Rupan?s mother. Today, on Independence Day, I want to remind our Bengali-self that there are other lives which need to be memorialised; that there are other Shaheed Minars too, awaiting jumma flowers.

Nelson Mandela’s release from prison 20 years ago opened negotiations which finally ended the racist segregation of the apartheid system. The BBC’s diplomatic editor James Robbins, who was in Cape Town to report on the release, has been back to talk to key figures in the country’s transformation.
“Nelson Mandela’s first steps back to freedom…”
I can vividly remember the excitement of being able to say those words as I reported on the moment that transformed South Africa for ever? as Nelson Mandela started that long walk which eventually led him from prison to the Presidency.

Nelson Mandela had spent more than half his adult life in prison. As he walked to freedom, already 71 years old, his largest task still lay ahead. The ANC leader had to negotiate an end to white rule. Twenty years on, I returned to Cape Town to look back with FW de Klerk – the last white President and the man who finally set Nelson Mandela free – and to revisit Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who led the protest the helped make Nelson Mandela’s release inevitable.
Mr de Klerk is in no doubt about the significance of his decisions to unban the African National Congress and the South African Communist Party and to free Mr Mandela at last:
“I realised that after the announcements which I made, South Africa would be changed for ever.”
‘Blessed’
Archbishop Desmond Tutu heaped praise on Mr de Klerk for breaking the white stranglehold on power. “He deserves all the credit that you can imagine. He showed incredible courage,” the Archbishop said. “Not every country has a Nelson Mandela. We were blessed, I think. We could so easily have gone up in flames.”

And I’ve been back to one of those black townships in the Cape – which was so often in flames. I often used to go there to report violent clashes with the army and police.
At the time, they fired shotguns from their armoured vehicles, or charged with teargas and whips at anyone daring to demand basic rights in a racist society.
This time, I’m meeting Zongs Liwani. He was one of those protesters. He was just 21 years old when Nelson Mandela was released, and he went to the City Hall in Cape Town to see him that first day. Zongs realised immediately that his life, too, could change:
“The way Nelson Mandela was so sure or – how could I put it? – aggressive about changing South Africa, I knew that he would actually come out and make a difference,” he said.
Poor but free
And the difference for Zongs himself? He proudly took me into the new township supermarket. It’s large, it’s thriving and it’s his.
“I’m standing in my own shop,” he said.
So I asked him if something on this scale could have happened under apartheid. His view is clear: “That was something way far from us getting into then.”
Outside, though, much in Nyanga has not changed. There are many of the same shacks and leaking corrugated iron roofs. There is still a housing crisis in South Africa. There are still squatters living here. There’s still poverty, but at least the people are free.
I met South Africans with very strong memories of the day Nelson Mandela was released, but the future of the country belongs, of course, to those too young to know that day except as a day in history.
So I went to the University of Cape Town, which was overwhelmingly white when I lived here, to talk to a group of 20-year-olds of all races and backgrounds.
Neliswa Dludla got a place at this prestigious university after a childhood in the townships. She is in no doubt of the disadvantages she had to overcome, including a lack of the sort of support white children have been used to.
“You don’t necessarily have a study room, so you find yourself having to push yourself,” she says.
I asked her if she had had to be a fighter.
“Ya, basically,” she replies.
Her friend Rachel Mazower, who is from a privileged white background, is delighted to be growing up in a free, non-racial South Africa, but acknowledges it’s going to be tougher for her.
“Oh, definitely it’s more difficult for us than my parents’ generation,” she said. “They tell me they just had to scrape through everything. The best jobs were guaranteed for them in those days.”
‘Need for reconciliation’


It’s?left to Lynn Leigh-Brandt to inject one note of caution. She’s hesitant about voicing it, but then:
“OK, I’ll be completely honest? What if Nelson Mandela dies? What could happen,” she says.
“Is it still going to be equality for all? Will there still be black economic empowerment?”
And Lynn readily agreed when I suggested that Nelson Mandela was such a unifying force that people behave better as long as he’s here.
The last words belong to the former President and the Archbishop.
FW de Klerk is in no doubt: “The commemoration of Mr Mandela’s release. It reminds us all of the need for reconciliation,” he says.
And Archbishop Desmond Tutu gives me a huge smile at the end of our interview:
“Hey man, God took some time creating God’s own country,” he breaks into a huge, rolling, infectious laugh.
“Fantastic country? fantastic country.”
———-
My meeting with Mandela on his 91st birthday

by: Shahidul Alam and Rahnuma Ahmed

Rahnuma Ahmed writes?

My last column had ended with these words: ‘The current regime?s voter registration list has, in all probability, lessened the likelihood of fraudulent votes. But it also has, in all likelihood, laid the groundwork for installing a new regime of surveillance, one that will be deployed against the citizens of Bangladesh‘ (National ID Cards. In the Interest of Surveillance?, New Age, 29 September 2008). ?

Little did I know when I wrote it that Bangladeshi bloggers had intensely debated the pros and cons of national ID cards four weeks earlier. The discussion in amarblog.com had been generated by Ashiq’s Amra O Pari post, eulogising the electronic registration of voters, a feat that was termed a ‘silent revolution.’ Ashiq wrote, at first, no organisation had expressed its willingness to complete the task within the period stipulated by the government, not even foreign companies. Sky-high figures had been quoted. But fortunately, the Bangladesh army had submitted its own proposal to the government, just like any other organisation. Its budget was also the lowest.

A person who writes under the name of Incidental Blogger had raised these questions:?

— The Bangladesh army’s budget was the lowest — what is your source of information? Do you know who were the second and third bidders? Do you know why the latter failed to secure the contract??

— Who was in charge of the selection process? Who were the commitee members? Could you tell us how much freedom they had in reaching their decision, and your source of information? Was any internationally-recognised independent evaluator assigned??

— What was the criteria for selection??

Chor, another blogger, commented further down, the national ID card project is the task of the Election Commission. Of course, the EC can request the help of the army, this is not the problem. The problem is when public money is used to charge the public for services rendered. ?

Incidental Blogger further wrote, the ID card issue is linked to the issue of individual freedom, privacy etc., this is why western governments are finding it difficult to get their own electorates to agree. Not mincing words, he wrote, does the caretaker government in Bangladesh have the right to make a decision on something as fundamental as the national ID card, something that is a matter of state policy? Did it not happen very conveniently, almost too easily? Are you sure this information will not be shared with western intelligence agencies? He went on, you may look at it positively, but I look at it as the first step in Bangladesh turning into a fascist state. ?

I read and re-read the blog. It is good to know that my fears are shared by others. ?

While researching for my previous article, I had surfed the internet for information, and learnt that the voter roll project in Bangladesh was a “co-operative venture” between BIO-Key in the US, TigerIT in Bangladesh (their “systems integrator on the ground”), and the Bangladesh army.? ?

I had asked Shahidul when he came home whether he knew of TigerIT Bangladesh. No, never heard of them, he said. Hmmm, I said, their webpage says, the Cofounder and Chairman is Ziaur Rahman, it lists a Joseph Fuisz, as the Cofounder. And guess what, a Daily Star Weekend magazine article on Info-Tech says, `TigerIT Bangladesh Limited is an offshore technology campus of TigerIT, USA, with its corporate headquarters located in Northern Virginia’ (March 2, 2007), but this is not mentioned in their website. ?

Shahidul became curious. Read what happened next, in his words.

Shahidul Alam writes?

I knew about Tigers. There were the Bengal Tigers, our cricket team, even Tiger Beer. TigerIT was new. Having initiated DrikTap, the pioneering email network in Bangladesh in the early nineties, I thought I knew about the IT scene in the country. So when Rahnuma told me about this ‘cutting edge’ Bangladeshi company, I asked around amongst IT savvy peers. No one had heard of TigerIT. A quick search of the ‘who is’ database revealed that the domain tigeritbd.com had only been registered on 21st August 2007. So when on the 1st May 2007, the chief election commissioner had said the “countdown of the 18-month timeframe starts from today,” the domain www.tigeritbd.com did not even exist! ?

A quick search on Joseph Fuisz the co-founder of the company revealed that he was based in Washington DC. Since I was scheduled to give a presentation at the National Geographic in DC, I dropped Mr. Fuisz a line asking if I could interview him. The “out of office” response was followed by a mail saying he was away on a family holiday in Miami. It just so turned out, that I was presenting at Miami University on 30th September. I suggested we meet in Miami and provided my itinerary. Upon arrival at Miami, I received the following mail, “Unfortunately, I have been tied up in meetings all day today. Thus, I am sorry that it does not appear I will get to see you in Miami.” This was the man who was away on a family holiday for a week. I offered to meet papa Fuisz (Richard C Fuisz, MD), in Washington DC. I should have anticipated the response: “I am so sorry — your prior email did not come through (I just found it) and so I did not forward it to my Dad’s assistant. I think it is too late to schedule now.? Please accept my apologies.? I will email you some things about Tiger and hope to meet in you Bangladesh some day — very best, Joe Fuisz.” ?

I’ve had no further correspondence from Fuisz.?

Rahnuma Ahmed writes?

If you had met him, what would you have wanted to know, I ask Shahidul. His list of questions was ready: ?

(1) What were the factors leading to a newly formed company, TigerIT BD, being able to obtain such a prestigious and lucrative contract?

(2) What are the implications of having a biometric database for Bangladesh? Who might benefit from this data, nationally and internationally?

(3) Does your company TigerIT (the parent company of TigerIT BD) have any previous experience of working in Bangladesh or the region?

(4) Why did you choose to work with relatively inexperienced people in Bangladesh and set up a new company rather than teaming up with existing IT companies with a track record?

(5) Who are the main clients of your company TigerIT (the parent company)?

(6) What is your equity in TigerIT BD??

He grinned and added, but of course, I sent him a very general note saying we were fascinated by the news of what they had done and wanted to do a feature on the company for DrikNews.?

So, why are western citizens concerned? As Peter Boyle asks, what’s the fuss behind another little piece of plastic? What is dangerous is not the card itself, he says, but “the mother of all databases that is behind a compulsory national ID card system.” Chris Puplick, a former Liberal Senator who was a member of the joint select committee on the Australia Card, speaking of his `fear’ of national ID card systems wrote, “Should 20 million Australians have their liberties trashed so that we might — I repeat might — detect the two or three mad jihadists in our midst? Will files now be created on the basis that people belong to a certain religion, attend particular places of worship or hold specific political opinions?” ?

Does the national ID card system help to combat terrorism? Privacy International (PI), a global human rights group, in a 2004 study on the relationship between national ID cards and the prevention of terrorism was unable to “uncover any instance where the presence of an identity card system” was a significant deterrent to terrorist activity. I remember coming across a blog comment somewhere: `Want to be rid of terrorism? Pull troops out of Afghanistan and Iraq.’ Another blogger had said, ‘Governments quite often frighten me more than terrorists.’?

Some Bangladeshis — still carried away by the present military-backed caretaker government’s drive against corruption — may think that it will help clean up corruption. As a blogger had commented in drishtipat: `Like driver?s license renewal or getting cars inspection every year, the national ID card… will have huge impact on and spectacular change in the society.’ Those pro ID cards probably don’t know that computer disks containing detailed personal information on 25 million individuals, and 7.25 million families in Britain, went missing last year. Personal information included names, addresses, national insurance numbers, and data on almost every child under 16. According to experts, the information “could allow crimes beyond identity theft,” since some people use a child’s name or part of their address as password on their bank account. In other words, a combination of these details could allow criminals to break their code. Another critic says, if a government or criminal wanted to frame someone, amending, erasing, or adding to the details on one’s medical records, employment history, could be easily done, since all information would be stored on a single device.?

Khushi Kabir had left a comment on my column at Shahidul’s blog, speaking of her own disturbing experiences: `What was also worrying was the religious and other profiling done, albeit arbitrarily in majority of cases, despite that this information was not asked for in the form filled up prior to getting photographed or finger printed. My big teep must have confused them, so they asked for my religion, which I did not find necessary to provide them, or any other information that was not on the form. Others were not asked but religion was put on the basis of their ?assumption?. When challenged as to why they needed my religion or to keep it blank they stated that they were required by the ?authorities? to profile it. Shireen Huq had a similar experience. They informed her there was only space for four religions in the database ie Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist and Christian. No scope for others. This kind of information can be potentially frightening.’ ?

Of course yes, Khushi. As Jim Fussell of Prevent Genocide International points out, ethnic classification on ID cards in Rwanda, instituted by the Belgian colonial government and retained after independence, spelled a death sentence for Tutsis at any roadblock. No other factor, says Fussell, was more significant in facilitating the speed and magnitude of the 100 days of mass killing in Rwanda, that left 800,000 dead. ?

The near-deafening silence of Bangladeshi human rights organisations and activists on the national ID card issue, is remarkable. I wonder why? Are their campaigns waged aganist ‘locals’ only — the neighbourhood bully, the local rapist, the village acid-thrower? Do they shy away when human rights violations are caused by ‘big’ actors? Does speaking out against Big Brother’s `war on terror’ fall outside the prescribed terms of reference? ?

Do not misunderstand me, fighting against local power structures has not always been easy or convenient, as their own records of struggle show. But it is a global world, and we should learn from the African feminist who had said, I am oppressed not only by my patriarchal village headman, but equally so by the IMF and the World Bank. And I add, by western regimes who are waging terrorist wars against the world’s peoples.?

?

You may be forgiven for thinking that the results of the National Geographic
All Roads project (http://www.nationalgeographic.com/allroads/) had been
fixed by me. Two out of the four main awardees and two out of the five
honourable mentions were from my list! Those of you who were here for Chobi
Mela III will recognise the work of three of the photographers listed here.
Shehzad was not involved in the festival, but has been a regular contributor
to Drik for many years. Neo spent a year at Pathshala as a Fredskorpset
participant. I am enclosing my introductions to the photographers that I had
submitted to the National Geographic.
The festival opens at the Egyptian Theater in LA on the 21st September 2005.
Or else you could come to the 2nd part of the festival at the National
Geographic headquarters at Washington D.C. from the 29th September to the 1
st October. There is a morning seminar on the 30th. You will get to meet All
Roads Advisory Board members, photo program awardees, magazine editors,
filmmakers, and artists from around the world.
The blurb from Geographic:
Photographer Panel Discussion
*"Camera and Culture: The myth of objective documentation"*
Is documentary photography inherently objectifying? Can comprehensive
documentation be done through non-native eyes? Is there an unspoken
universal morality in documentary work?
Please join us for a candid and interactive panel discussion exploring
these issues and more at both festival venues. Panelists will include *All**
Roads Photographers Program 2005 Awardees*, world-renowned photographer *
Reza*, and award-winning International Editor & Curator *Shahidul Alam*; the
discussion will be moderated by National Geographic Magazine, Senior Editor
*John Echave*.
Please see below for times at each location:
*L.A.**:*
Saturday September 24, 2-3:15 pm, Egyptian Theater
or
*D.C.:*
Saturday Oct.1, 2-3:15 pm Grosvenor Auditorium
And now the photographers:
Neo Ntsoma (http://www.chobimela.org/g_sa_neo.htm):
Neo Ntsoma is a complex person. High strung, energetic, intense,
passionate, laughing, crying, running, leaping, she is in the middle of
everything and everywhere. A spring ready to uncoil. She is also deceptively
perceptive. Having faced racism, in every guise, she has toughened herself
to face life's challenges. But it is her black identity that has emerged as
the soul within her work. She rejoices in her colour and rejoices in colour.
Her search for identity within the black South African youth, is no
nostalgic trip down memory lane, but rather a buoyant leap at the crest of
the wave of youth which captures
the energy, the dynamism, the joy of a youth determined to find its own
expression. It is the raw energy of her work that attracts me.
Sudharak Olwe (http://www.chobimela.org/g_bd_abir.htm):
Olwe's photographs have a Dickensian construction that reflect the
complexities of the lives he portrays. Fine detail. Frames crammed with
information. Seemingly superfluous data spilling over the rim of the frame.
Photographs charged with an energy that perhaps talk of the people he
portrays. People who eke out everything they can from a life that has had
the nutrients pulled out a long time ago. With visual elements jostling for
space, Olwe's multilayered images reflect the layered hierarchy of a class
and caste system that have permanently relegated those in the bottom of the
rung. A rung is perhaps a deceptive metaphor, as a ladder suggests the
ability to climb. For Olwe's characters, there is no exit. No happy ending.
Tomorrow is no different from today. So the characters themselves, squeeze
every inch out of life. Ironically, in dealing with a life with very limited
options, they live life to the full. Much as the frames of Olwe's
construction.
Abir Abdullah (http://www.chobimela.org/g_bd_abir.htm):
There are few photographers I have come across who have maintained as high
a level of integrity as Abir Abdullah. I have observed him as a student, as
a fellow photographer, as a colleague, a fellow tutor and a friend. At all
stages, he has been exemplary in the way he has upheld the values that
photojournalists live by.
A fine photographer, Abir is also a sensitive individual whose work
reflects the attachment he has for his subjects. Though he is currently
employed as a wire photographer, his approach has never been superficial,
and he has relied on his ability to build relationships with his subjects.
It is this sensitivity, and the respect that he has for people that I feel
comes through in Abir's work, and is eventually the underlying strength of
his photography.
Shehzad Noorani (http://www.fiftycrows.org/photoessay/noorani/index.php):
Noorani's life has shaped much of what he photographs. A child worker who
got caught raiding a neighbour's kitchen for food, is an unlikely candidate
for a successful career in photography. But statistics are very poor at
predicting life as it unfolds. A need to feed the family led to Shehzad
having to ensure that the money kept flowing in. This he did with consummate
ease by being one of those rare photographers who always deliver on time, to
specification and to highly exacting standards. This thorough professional
however, is also a skilled artist, who has combined his human skills with a
wonderful eye that finds things other eyes may have missed. It is the
subaltern that Shehzad has photographed, but not through pitiful eyes, or
some romantic notion of charity, but through a genuine understanding of what
being poor is. His tenacity, his ability to push himself and his unusual
duality between the disciplined professional and the gifted artist, makes
Shehzad special.
Dear Shahidul:
We would like to thank you for taking the time to send in your nominations
for the 2005 class of the *All** Roads Photographers Program*. On Monday
July 18th four Awardees, and five Honorable Mentions were selected from a
very talented and diverse pool of nominees. As a matter of fact, having five
Honorable mentions is a testimony to the high quality of the photoessays.
The final awardees are: *Marcela Taboado*: Women of Clay (Mexico); *Sudharak
Olwe*: In search of Dignity and justice: the untold story of Mumbai's
conservancy workers* *(India); *Neo Ntsoma* South African Youth ID ? Kwaito
Culture (South Africa); and *Andre Cypriano*: Rocinha, An Orphan Town (
Brazil).
And the honorable mentions are: *Shehzad Noorani:* The Children of Black
Dust ? That child who wants to live (Bangladesh), *Abir Abdullah*: Old Dhaka
(We were born here and will die here?) (Bangladesh) , *Walter
Mesquita:*Viva Favela Project (BrazilMahalla,)
*Rena Effendi:* Faces of Change (Azerbaijan) , *
Gia Chkhatarashvili:* Ushguli, A Village at a Crossroad (Rep. of Georgia)
We were most pleased with the nominations and encourage you to please start
thinking of qualified photographers for next year!
Warm Regards,
Chris Rainier and Eduardo Abreu
All Roads Photographers Program

http://www.cps.canon-europe.com/articles/article.jsp?pageId=1&article.articleId=100424

http://www.cps.canon-europe.com/articles/article.jsp?articleId=100424&pageId=2

Sorry. Haven’t worked out a way to copy this page onto the site yet. Please follow the URL.

Best,

Shahidul

http://www.zonezero.com/tsunami/shahidul/article.html

Shanika clung on to her dad Priantha, when she realised we were near to the sea. She had been in her aunt’s house in Hikkaduwa which had survived the waves, but had felt the fury of the sea. It had taken away her mother, her twin sister and her two other sisters and their home. The sea was to be feared. She did not want to go back there, photographs or no photographs. Priantha tried to explain that it would be safe, but Shanika was not convinced.

It was my digital camera which changed things. Most people in the sub-continent love being photographed. The joy of seeing her own image instantly brought a smile to Shanika’s face, and soon we were friends. She took photographs of her dad, her aunt and of me. Soon she was taking photographs of me by the sea, but telling me to be careful!

There are no direct flights from Dhaka to Colombo and I left on the 29^th December, the first flight I could get. I didn’t have a very clear idea of what I would do once I got there. Dominic put me in touch with wildlife photographers Rukshan, Vajira and some other friends who had all gotten together to try and get relief goods to the worst affected areas. Margot and others had also helped. Dominic and I had bought some stuff, but it was pale in comparison to the truckloads ! that Rukshan and his friends had put together. Our convoy of twelve vehicles followed the two lorries though Ratnapura, Pelmadulla, Timbolketiya, Uda Walawe, Thanamalwila, Wellawaya, Buttala, Moneragala and Siyambalanduwa until we came to the Lahugala military camp.

It was there that we realised that our planning was less than perfect. The initial outpouring of support had resulted in places being overstocked, while we heard of other places which had received nothing. A military anti landmine vehicle helped pull one of our lorries from the rainsoaked fields, and except for a small amount of rice, lentils and medicine which we left for families in most need, we put things back on the lorries to be returned to Colombo until we had a better idea of what to do. Soaking in the rain we piled back the tons of rice, milk powder, medicine, soap, clothes and all the other things we had emptied from the vehicle. While the others headed back, Rukshan, ! Vajira and I went on to the eastern coast of Pottuvil. There was an eerie emptiness. Only the scattered toys and other remnants gave away the fact that there had been a vibrant village. There were no bodies, no sounds, no wailing for the dead.

As a Bangladeshi, I was used to disasters, but the spontaneous collectives that would form when we were kids, singing songs, collecting old clothes from door to door, forming community groups who tried in their own way to stay by the needy, seem to have given way to the more ‘official’ methods of relief. Nowadays NGO efforts and organised disaster management seem to be our standard responses. Our own efforts seem to be restricted to the prime minister’s relief fund. In Sri Lanka, I could still sense the outpouring of sympathy that people felt for their fellow being.

I came across wonderful stories of human compassion and bravery. And while I lamented the lack of early warnings and the bureaucracy that prevented those who knew, from warning those who didn’t, I still came back convinced that it would take much more than tsunamis to tame the human spirit.

Shahidul Alam

Dhaka 7^th February 2005

While on the subject of humanitarian aid, look up my work on Edhi in Pakistan at: www.saudiaramcoworld.com/issue/ 200406/humanitarian.to.a.nation.htm