Empowering the Margins

To say that Bangladesh is a populous country would be something of an understatement. It has about 150 million people squeezed into 133,910 square kilometers. (By comparison, the US is 9.1million sq km and 300 million people and Russia, over 16 million square km with 141 million people). This gives it one of the highest population densities in the world. And boy, when you're sitting in a Dhaka traffic jam, you really feel it.

Wending my way through the horrific traffic, I managed to visit two NGOs which are doing good work in their respective fields. The CREA-Modhumita HIV prevention and treatment centre is housed in a building in Lalbagh, Old Dhaka. Here, a small group of doctors and counsellors help drug users get off their addiction and also educate them about HIV. Housing both male and female drug users for three months, the doctors and staff work to not only get their residents off drugs but also to get them jobs after rehabilitation as well as reunite them with their families. Those who have family support afterwards tend to stay off drugs much longer than those who don't.

(Talking to male recovering drug users at CREA-Modhumita.)

I sat with the residents to ask them how they felt being there. It was easy to tell who had been there a while and who had just arrived. The former looked healthier and calmer while the more recently-arrived looked thin and more nervous. They all seemed to know exactly how many days they had been in there, readily answering '84 days' or '19 days' as the case may be. But they seemed to be universally appreciative of the opportunity to get their lives back, as well as to be in a safe place with decent medical care and food.

Asked what message they had for others using drugs and still on the streets, they stressed the importance of being safe, knowing the dangers of HIV.

(The shy women at Modhumita telling me their stories.)

There are not as many women in residence at Modhimatu but they have more difficulty in getting their lives back together. More sensitive about the presence of cameras than the men, we had to negotiate to keep their faces out of the photos before we could start talking. Many of them had worked in garment factories, some had become involved in prostitution. One shy young woman who understood English fairly well had once been a dancer and actress on TV. But they too felt grateful for the opportunity to get cleaned up and maybe, just maybe, get back on track again.

(The Durjoy team, Shahnaz Begum, President, in white, Hazera Bagum, in purple. The sign above us means 'Dhurjoy Children's Care Centre')

Not too far away from there, I visited a rather special NGO, Durjoy Nari Shangar. This translates into 'Victorious Women's Association' but the women of Durjoy are not your average women's association types: they are all sex workers. Shahnaz Begum is an attractive dignified woman who is President of DNS while the very pretty and lively Hazera Bagum is Project Director of the Durjoy Children's Centre. (Hazera had met me the night before at a UNAIDS function and despite my inability to understand Bangla, had chattered away at me insisting that I visit her centre. I could not resist.)

As can be imagined, sex workers in Bangladesh have lives well below the radar of most people. Marginalised, harassed, ignored and neglected, they suffer abuse at every turn. Worse still, their children suffer from being almost totally ignored by society.

In Bangladesh, father's lineage is most important in determining a person's identity.As most children of sex workers are unable to claim their lineage, they become non-persons, unable to obtain papers and therefore to do what other children do, including go to school. This is one of the reasons that Durjoy Nari Shangar was set up in 1999, to fight for the rights of both sex workers and their children. Today DNS has over 3500 members, all sex workers.

Thus far, without much fuss and fanfare, DNS has quietly been advocating for their rights, obtaining funding from various foreign donor organisations for the centre which I visited. One of the chief problems that the sex workers faced was what to do with their children while they were at work. Some have had their children kidnapped while waiting for their mothers on the street. Others have been forced to bring their kids into the same room as them while they worked.

(Little dancer, Durjoy Children's Centre)

In order to serve this need, DNS set up the Durjoy Child Care Centre specifically to cater to the sex workers' children. In a brightly lit but very bare room, the children played, sang, recited poetry and danced for their visitor, smiling all the way. They were proud to show off their English, these poor undernourished children, unlike our shy people at home.

(Shahnaz and I and the kids of Durjoy)

Like everyone I met in Bangladesh, the women and children of Durjoy were naturally hospitable, insisting I have tea and cookies. Shahnaz and Hazera are understandably proud of what they have achieved with their centre but worried that their funding would soon run out. Would there be anyone in the world who would be keen to help sex workers and their children in Bangladesh?