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People try to put out a fire at Sir Denim Limited garment factory in Mollartek, Dokkinkhan, outside Dhaka, Bangladesh, on Nov. 26, 2012.
At a meeting convened in 2011 to boost safety at Bangladesh garment factories, Wal-Mart Stores Inc. (WMT) made a call: paying suppliers more to help them upgrade their manufacturing facilities was too costly.
Low cost jeans are displayed at a discount clothing store in New York City. Photographer: Spencer Platt/Getty Images
The burnt out corpses of the sewing machines all laid out in a grid, had the appearance of a graveyard. For many of the workers at Tazreen Fashions, that’s exactly what it was. Nischintopur. Savar. Dhaka. Bangladesh. 3rd December 2012. ? Shahidul Alam/Drik/Majority World Bales of cotton on either side of the stairs were in flames that workers had to go through to escape the fire. Nischintopur. Savar. Dhaka. Bangladesh. 3rd December 2012. ? Shahidul Alam/Drik/Majority World Stairs on either side of the huge hallway were the only exits to the factory. Nischintopur. Savar. Dhaka. Bangladesh. 3rd December 2012. ? Shahidul Alam/Drik/Majority WorldContinue reading “The cost of cheap clothes”
Mahesh Murthy: If you wondered what actual Facebook update sent two girls to jail this morning, based on a complaint by Shiv Sena pramukh of Palghar, Bhushan Sankhe claiming “religious hurt” – and what then supposedly justified his Shiv Sena goons to go over and ransack one girl’s uncle’s clinic without being arrested – it was this:
In all our countries we have things called ‘shok dibosh‘ (days of mourning), imposed upon us. We mourn by state dispensation for some leader or other, regardless of the lives they led. While calling them shahid‘s merely because they were killed might be a bit extreme, one could perhaps sympathise with the fact that they died in the course (if not call) of their duty. Ordinary people die in the hundreds in launch disasters every year. Slums catch fire mysteriously before developers move in on city land. Road disasters every day leave us unmoved, until the death of someone close, or prominent, moves us to anger. Garment workers working in death traps die when their prisons cave in or catch fire. We have our moments of rage, a temporary outburst, but there is no systemic change, for these moments are not remembered. The death of the insignificant, remains insignificant. But a politician or a wealthy person dying, even a natural death, raises the person to sainthood. Suddenly we forget who they were while they lived. Eulogies are written for the shomajshebi (philanthropist), who is said to have left behind an adoring public. We are required to weep.
I have no wish to be insensitive to the pain of their dear ones. Praying for a departed soul, however one might choose to pray, is a response I have no problems with. But the forced collective self?flagellation?that is imposed on us, because a person of influence ceases to be, merely for having outlived ones life, leaves me befuddled. And when questions being raised upon their role while living becomes punishable by law, that law, like any unjust law, must be challenged.
5.30pm: Dad is bent over the toilet bowl with a brush in his hand and a scowl on his face. I walk up to him. “Shall I give you a hand?” Dad begins to snicker, abandoning any attempt to make sense of the situation. We stand shoulder to shoulder with our backs to Mom, who paces around the patio with a newly fitted catheter in her hand.
The catheter has been put in by her nurse, Marianne to enable her doctor, who will be with us in half an hour, to give Mom a lethal injection. But instead of having a moment of peace with us, as Marianne suggested, Mom demands that we clean the toilets. Both upstairs and downstairs.
My brother, Maarten, is sitting on the edge of the bathtub, staring out of the bathroom window.
“Imagine,” he mutters. “Her last hour, spent like this.”
This is the Netherlands, where voluntary euthanasia is permitted, as well as physician-assisted suicide. This is the day my mother has chosen to die, and the toilets need to be spotless.
Three months earlier
I’m on a writer’s retreat in the UK, where I have been living for the past three years. I’m working on my novel when my mobile phone rings. The display shows it’s Maarten, calling from the Netherlands. Mom’s test results have come back.
“It’s secondary cancer in her lungs.” He pauses. “They think she’s got two to six months left.” Continue reading “I am going to Die on Monday at 6 15 pm”
Tareque Masud and Mishuk Munier amongst five killed in road accident.
Drik mourns the death of two dear friends, the injuries of three others and the numerous deaths of their colleagues and the thousands of uncounted others who regularly die as a result of negligence, corruption and the wanton irresponsibility of those who are in charge of keeping our roads safe. Tareque and Catherine Masud with their baby boy Nishad. Photo Collected From Family Album Tareque Masud, one of the finest film makers this nation has produced. Mishuk Munier, a talented cameraperson and a media professional who had both the dreams and the ability to change the way reporting was done, died a brutal death as they were returning to Dhaka having chosen the location for their next film. The wreckage of the microbus that was carrying Tareque Masud and Mishuk Munier lies beside the road after the crash Saturday. Photo: Daily Star
Catherine,?Tareque’s equally talented wife, the producer of the Oscar nominated film Matir Moina, artist Dhali Al Mamoon, who had given the inaugural Golam Kasem Daddy lecture on Drik’s 20th anniversary, and his painter wife Dilara Begum Jolly are in hospital recovering from multiple injuries. Dhali’s condition is critical. (From left) Raghu Rai, Shahidul Alam and Dhali Al Mamoon at the inaugural programme. Photo: Daily Star - Internationally acclaimed filmmaker Tareque Masud, cinematographer, broadcast journalism guru of Bangladesh CEO &?? Chief Editor of ATN News Television station Mishuk Munier, and three others were killed as their microbus collided with a Chuadanga-bound passenger bus on Dhaka-??Aricha highway at Ghior sub district in Manikganj district on August 13,2011 Eminent film producer and Tareque's wife Catherine Masud, painter couple Dhali Al Mamoon and Dilara Begum Jolly also were injured while the team were on a recce visit for '??Kagojer Phool'??, a feature film to be made. The bodies were taken to Dhaka Medical Collage Hospital for post-mortem and the injured to Square Hospital for treatment. Photo: Saikat Mojumder/DrikNews Photo: Saikat Mojumder/DrikNews Photo: Saikat Mojumder/DrikNews Photo: Saikat Mojumder/DrikNews Obituary on Guardian UK
It was a welcome opportunity to meet Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina during her official visit to the UK. Three of us, Lord Eric Avebury of the UK House of Lords, Brad Adams of Human Rights Watch and I met the Prime Minister on 30 January at her hotel suite in London.
Bangladesh Foreign Minister, Dr Dipu Moni and the Bangladesh High Commissioner to the UK, Dr Sayeedur Rahman Khan were also present at the meeting.
We began with a discussion on the war crimes trials, restrictions on human rights groups visiting Chittagong Hill Tracts, and the continued delay in implementing the Chittagong Hill Tracts Accord (CHT) that was signed in 1997 during Sheikh Hasina?s previous tenure as Prime Minister.
The Prime Minister said she was committed to implementing the CHT Accord and had set up a committee to advise her on how to implement it.
The Foreign Minister said the government was aware of the concerns the International Bar Association had raised about the law under which war crimes will be tried. She said the government had sought the opinion of legal experts on those concerns and that the amended law incorporates their advice. She said the process is to heal wounds, and the government is looking at all issues in relation to the trials, and the rule of law would be followed.
The law denies, among other things, the right to challenge the jurisdiction of the Tribunal and the right to the possibility of bail but it was not clear if the government would move to amend the law.
I told the Prime Minister that Amnesty International welcomes the government?s move to make the National Human Rights Commission permanent and asked for her assurances that it would remain independent and well resourced. Also, the government?s move to try Bangladesh Rifle mutineers in civilian courts, as against courts martial, was welcome.
I expressed concern that the government?s move to address some of the human rights concerns appear to favour only members of her own party, the Awami League. There is a long, unwelcome legacy in Bangladesh for governments to go soft on the criminal activities of members of their own party and harsh on the opposition. I asked why the only known cases of the government pardoning death penalty convicts were 20 convicts, 19 of whom were members of the governing Awami League. I also expressed concern about the activities of the Bangladesh Chattra League (BCL), the student wing of the Awami League, and the serious allegations of human rights abuses by this grouping, which have gone unpunished.
The Foreign Minister said the deaths sentences had been politically motivated and for that reason the prisoners have been pardoned. I was dismayed as I had hoped to hear a commitment to pardoning more death penalty convicts and the exercise of utmost impartiality in choosing who to pardon.
The Prime Minister said she had taken action against the BCL members. Some have been arrested for committing crimes and some have been expelled from the Awami League.
I explained that torture continues to be widespread and asked the Prime Minister if her government would consider implementing the 2003 Supreme Court ruling that provides guidelines for torture free investigation of suspects. This question remained unanswered.
I referred to statements the Prime Minister had made before and after the 2008 elections that extrajudicial executions would end. Yet, they continue and nothing seems to be done to stop them.
The Prime Minister said extrajudicial executions have been happening since 2004 and she has been very vocal on the issue from that time. She said they could not stop overnight. She said all incidents are investigated, and if any officer is found to have committed a crime ?immediately we take action against it?.
I agree that extrajudicial executions cannot stop overnight, but work to stop them can begin straight away. While the Prime Minister?s comments generate the hope that the government might be prepared to address the issue, the Home Minister?s comments last week that extrajudicial executions were not happening undermines that hope.
At a time when Bangladesh is being asked (against the wishes of its citizens) to send troops to Afghanistan, an interesting article on the complex forces that are at play in the region.
related article: Sitting on a man’s back
By MATTHIEU AIKINS
Published1 October 2010 CARAVAN
Matthieu Aikins is a journalist whose feature writing and photography have appeared in such US, Canadian, British and Indian publications as Harper’s Magazine, the Globe & Mail, the National Post, the Coast, the Toronto Sun, The Caravan, Progress Magazine, the Halifax Chronicle-Herald, the Kingston Whig-Standard, Bad Idea Magazine, SAIL Magazine, and on CBC’s ‘The National’ and Global TV’s ‘National News’.
THEY WERE BOTH YOUNG. One had just the first wisps of hair on his cheeks, like an adolescent. The other was not much older, his short-trimmed beard caked with dried blood. There were gaping exit wounds in his shoulder, and in the pale skin of his belly, where his undershirt had been pulled up to reveal the damage. The two boys were lying dead amongst scattered bricks, at the feet of a crowd of gaping onlookers and journalists, in an abandoned construction site in Kabul.
?Where do you think they?re from?? a reporter asked the policeman who was taking a picture of the bodies with his cell phone, his assault rifle dangling from his other hand. The glaze of adrenaline still shone on the cop?s cheeks and eyes. ?Pakistan,? he said. ?Definitely not Afghans.? They always say that here, as if you could tell. They looked like Pashtuns, at least.
It was just one of several attacks in Kabul this summer, unremarkable in its execution and impact, but as a result, a series of extraordinary events had been triggered that would serve as a bellwether of India?s waning influence in Afghanistan. It was 29 May, the first day of the National Consultative Peace Jirga, and the two militants had managed to set up in the empty site and fire rockets at the Polytechnic University, the site of the peace jirga?a carefully stage-managed event that had brought handpicked tribal elders and civil society figures to endorse President Hamid Karzai?s plan to reconcile with the Taliban.
Karzai was furious that the jirga had been disrupted, in the middle of his inaugural speech, no less. One of the rockets had severed the leg of one of his personal bodyguards, and the two attackers had held out for several hours in a gun battle with police before finally being shot to death.
The following week, Karzai called a meeting with Hanif Atmar, the Minister of the Interior, and Amrullah Saleh, the chief of the National Directorate of Security (NDS)? the Afghan intelligence service?where he accused them of deliberately failing to provide adequate security in order to undermine the jirga. In a heated exchange, both offered their resignations. It wasn?t the first time that either of them had offered their resignations in response to an angry outburst by Karzai, but this time the president accepted. Continue reading “India in Afghanistan, Nation building or proxy war?”
A photo of Yves.
I woke up when Yves thrust himself off the mattress. “My head is killing me,” he said. “I’m going to take some more Tylenol.”
I heard him open the cabinet door, turn on the water as if pouring himself a drink. Then a loud bang startled me from bed.
Yves slumped on the floor, his back against the wall, his side against the bathtub. Tylenol was scattered on the tiles.
“Help me stand up,” he said. But when I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled him toward me, we both fell forward, my back hitting the vanity as I struggled to cushion him from the fall. His eyes fluttered. He was clearly in pain.
“I think we should call a doctor,” I said.
“No, no,” he said. “I just need to get back to bed. Give me a minute.” Then he closed his eyes.
“Yves,” I said. No response.
I sat beside him, stroking his back, letting him know that he was not alone, while we waited for the ambulance. I had only met Yves in person that day. But it felt like we had known each other for a lifetime.
I’m not sure what made me get in touch with Yves when I saw him on Salon personals. How can we untangle the mysterious calculus that is attraction? I liked how he playfully listed the languages he spoke as “French, English, and Body Language.” I liked the description of the woman he was seeking: “sensualist a must. a self-confident goddess too. a mermaid is also welcomed.”
I’m sure other women looked at his profile and thought “nope.” But I read it and saw a kindred spirit. He lived in Montreal, and I could tell from the way he wrote that he was Quebecois. I liked the idea of the two of us communicating in two languages. “This online dating thing is well ? difficult,” he e-mailed me early on. “And I’m a bit ‘clutsty’ at it.”
It was the “clutsty” that clenched my heart. Continue reading “Our first date was the last day of his life”
Do you look away from images of real-life horror, or look closer? A series of shocking photographs from Somalia asks disturbing questions about the ethics of bearing witness
Farah Abdi Warsameh's Stoned to Death, Somalia, 13 December. Photograph: AP
“To catch a death actually happening and embalm it for all time is something only cameras can do,” writes Susan Sontag in Regarding the Pain of Others, “and pictures taken out in the field of the moment of (or just before) death are among the most celebrated and often reproduced of war photographs.”
Sontag goes on to describe the context in which Eddie Adams took what was arguably the most shocking image of the Vietnam war: the moment in which a South Vietnamese police officer executes a Vietcong suspect by shooting him point-blank in the head. She points out that the picture was both authentic and staged ? “by General Loan, who had led the prisoner, hands tied behind his back, out to the street where journalists had gathered. He would not have carried out the summary execution there had they not been available to witness it”. Wearily, Sontag concludes that “one can gaze at these faces for a long time and not come to the end of the mystery, and the indecency, of such co-spectatorship”.
I was reminded of that final quotation when, a few weeks ago, I navigated the winner’s gallery of the World Press Photo of the Year website. There, amidst the many dramatic images of conflict, death and destruction, was a series by an Associated Press photographer, Farah Abdl Warsameh, entitled Stoned to Death, Somalia, 13 December. The four images are shocking in a way that even the most graphic war reportage seldom is any more. The first shows the victim being buried up to his neck in earth. The second shows a group of men, their faces concealed by headscarves, raining rocks down on his head. The third shows his bloodied torso being dragged out of the soil. The last shows the men hurling large rocks at his prone and lifeless body to finish off their gruesome ritual. There are no captions; we are left to guess the context.
One’s immediate instinct on coming upon the photographs is to recoil in horror, which is what almost everyone I showed them to did. A colleague described them as “a kind of pornography of suffering”. (The Sunday Times ran the series last week in their Spectrum section devoted to the World Press awards. Many readers were outraged and appalled.)
Last week, in a blogpost for Foto8 magazine, the veteran picture editor, Colin Jacobson, wrote that “the rather disgusting pictures ? raised some interesting ethical matters”, which is one ? somewhat understated ? way of putting it. More problematically, Jacobson said that “obviously there was collaboration between the photographer and those carrying out this gruesome death sentence”. Perhaps. But what kind of collaboration? Unlike the shooting of the Vietcong suspect, the dreadful execution of the Somalian man would seemingly have gone ahead at that time had the photographer not been present. (Other images from the series, not included in the World Press selection, show an audience of villagers who had gathered to witness the execution.) On that level, the photographer did not collaborate with the killers, though he almost certainly gained permission from someone to shoot the stoning. He also shot every stage of the killing in all its protracted and torturous barbarity. What it takes to do that, and at what personal cost, only he can say.
Images as extreme as these beg so many questions about the morality of reportage. Did the photographer, one wonders, have any communication with the victim in the time leading up to the event? Would our reaction to the photographs be different if we knew that the condemned man granted the photographer permission to bear witness to his dreadful death? Would it be different if we knew that the photographer risked his own life to travel though strife-torn Somalia to bear witness, which, as one of the respondents to Jacobson’s blog points out, was probably the case. Does such extremity diminish us or enlighten us? Or simply shock us into a kind of impassioned helplessness?
Part of the complex power of these photographs comes from what Sontag calls the “provocation” inherent in all images of real suffering. The first of many questions they ask is: “Can you look at this?” Perhaps Sontag comes closest to articulating the moral dilemma at the heart of extreme images of suffering when she writes: “There is shame as well as shock in looking at the close-up of a real horror. Perhaps the only people with the right to look at images of suffering of this extreme order are those who could do something to alleviate it ? or those who could learn from it. The rest of us are voyeurs, whether or not we mean to be.”
Firefighters battle the blaze at the Tazreen Fashions plant in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Photograph: Hasan Raza/AP
