GMB AKASH

“Factories of Death”

Gmb Akash — Tue, 21 May 2013 12:14:36 +0000

“Drinking tears now is a daily menu to the people whose life collapsed with the building Rana plaza. In a stormy day when I arrived at hospital door I pulsed by the melancholy I encounter. No rain was not the reason, it was the pain in ever face which will haunt everybody long. Following continual screaming of a young girl I found her requesting mother to a reluctant nurse. As soon as my camera clicks the doctor arrived swiftly, not sure seeing camera or may be reminding patients call! Looking at hundred wounded bodies and hearing their screams it was hard to stand in the middle. But it is more important to share a bit of their unbelievable suffering in a small form. Thus my camera take place and I share their pain among you all”- GMB Akash

Khadeza (18) was a kind of girl who laughed more than she talked. Her mother used to beat her for excess laughing. Now everyday her mother asks Khadeza to smile for a while but Khadeza only wipe off. Doctor prescribes her not to do any hard work at least for next six months. She will not be able to do any hard job in future. Her mother is not sure how long it will take to recover. She is one of the survivors of Rana plaza.

It will take three more months to get physical recovery and six months she will not be allowed to do any hard work. Eighteen years old Shapla was working in textile factory for three years. She was in third floor while rescuer rescued her. Her one hand cut off while she was inside. Living with Several scars in all over her body, she sometime cannot recall her name. Her Husband Mehedul was inside the building for 72 hours but he came out harmless.

Rebeka (20) been rescued after two nights of the incident. Dead body of her colleague was stumbled on her shoulder for a night. People threw water from the only hole and she sip water from the floor. Doctors cut her one leg and another leg is badly injured. Still she screamed full night in imagining the hospital building is falling on her. Her husband is beside her but helpless. Her mother and grandmother who worked in the same floor are missing and she is unaware of the news.

Seeing them in the bed of hospital, no one can recognize that these workers – once upon a time used to work 7 am to 12am of the night. Life has treated them bitterest. Pains are unbearable to make anyone understand of it. Stepping out from the hospital I heard a woman telling that these workers will be much benefited. They will get 5 lac tk so this comes good for them. I can not stop myself and turn around, told her, can you cut off your hand if I give you 5 lac? I wonder how heartless some people can be!

My journey continues so as the rain. When I stepped in the residential area of Rana plaza’s garments workers, I met Isa Mia, a boy who lost his brother in the incident. Her mother was crying in the door and after 20 days of the incident she can not eat anything properly. Isa himself a survivors but not depending much he taken me to meet Marium, the single mother who lost her hand. One after another I meet with all. I have dedicated my fees to them which come from published textile stories in different publication of mine. I encounter the pain. the urge, the pathetic emotions which words can never justify. I want to believe one day will come when these people will see their life in the ray of a sweet dream. & then I realize this is non sense. The reality is they will suffer and this is destiny. But I will run to them again and again, until I can take in some of their tears.

After losing her right hand Textile worker Marium (27) lost in despair. Single mother Marium never spends two tk for buying a hair band as she knows her two children’s future is in her hands. Disable Marium shouts at night afraid of feeling dead bodies of workers friends are circling her. She spent one night and two days in the 6^th floor of the collapsed building while her right hand injured under pillar. She started her job four years ago in that time she received 1200 tk monthly, now she lastly get 4500 tk monthly wage in New Wave star Ltd. a factory which was in 6^th floor of Rana plaza. She lost her stability to think about her future. Still after near one month of the incident she did not receive any compensation from anyone instead of her last month salary.

Blue is Aleya’s favorite color. In the morning she wore her new blue dress and told her young sister if she die who will wear the dress! Aleya’s (18) family was fully dependent on her income. She wants to educate her younger sister and alert her mother not to send her in textile factory. Heart patient father and kidney problem of mother forces Aleya to start work in her early age. Her mother asks her to married off soon but she reluctantly said straggle of her life will never come to an end. There was no money at home and she told her mother instead of dying in hunger it’s better to work in a cracked factory. She was sure God has given them enough sorrow and nothing will happen to her. Her believe proved wrong. Her family cannot even find her dead body parts after 17 days of searching everywhere. Neither have they received her salary nor compensation.

A room call home is never a place of relaxation for textile workers. Often a room shared by 5/6 workers offer them the untidy floor to sleep. Their salary won’t make them able to go in a better place still after 5-6 years of their job straggles.

“Even after losing one leg in the terrible incident the worker is begging for a sewing machine. She said, “Still I have two hands. & my children are hungry”. Alike her thousands workers keeps their dreams alive in their heart and goes to work on time. In spite of everything they are straggling happily to get a dream future knowing dream is a dream. But they never imagine nightmares will replace their dream and they obviously fall in concrete mattress. Incidents of Tazrin/ Rana plaza might wake up them from their dream. But still they say, hunger is ugly than death”

– GMB Akash

Tagged: Bangladesh, Bangladeshi factory fire, Bangladeshi textile factory, Capitalism, Dhaka building collapse, economy, exploitation, fire incident in Dhaka garmentsvictims, garment factories, Garments, garments factory, Garments industry, Gmb Akash, Human rightsinsight of the terrible incident in Rana Plaza, May day, Photographer from Bangladesh, Photography, Photojournalism, politics, Savar Rana Plaza, south asia, stories of textile accident survivors, survivors of rana plaza, Textile victims, Victims of Rana Plaza incident, victims of textile accident, woman, women died in textile incident, workers right

‘Low-priced Slaves’

Gmb Akash — Thu, 02 May 2013 18:49:04 +0000

Nargis fainted three times while she defeated to find her mother in the derbies of nine storied building. It’s been one day one night she is frantically checking around hospital, each corner of destructed building and hundreds smashed dead bodies. But where is Nargis mother’s existence? Hundreds of weeping mother, father, sister, brother, husband, wife and children were mad on searching their beloved face. The population who are the backbone of the family, of the country, their bones cracked under wretched concrete. Knowing still hundreds people are breathing inside the dreadful collapsed building helpless thousands mass people came out with their humanity. Rescuing living being or carrying out dead bodies nothing evaporates tears of people who experienced such frightening circumstances. The deadly trap eat out lives of thousands workers who never might thought of loosing life as prey of capitalism greed. Many workers leave their breathe waiting to hear a call of rescuer, female worker’s hand or leg trapped under stone while they are still alive and asking rescuer to cut their hand and take off. What to do and how to do? The traumatized nation has no answer to speak. Sharif after finding cracked half body parts of his 21 years younger brother, he screamed “My brother never do any harm to any body. Why Allah punishes him, why? Because we are poor, we are useless to Allah, we are useless to riches, and because we are bloody workers”.

Some 3,500 people were in the Rana Plaza building in Savar, some 30km (20 miles) outside Dhaka, when it collapsed suddenly on Wednesday morning 24^th April. The first three floors of the building, located in the Dhaka suburb of Savar, contained around 300 shops. At least four garment factories — New Wave Bottoms, Phantom Apparels, Phantom Tack and Ethar Textile — occupied higher levels, employing around 3,500 people. Building showed cracks on Tuesday, but all garments workers forced to go to work on Wednesday threatening to cut off salaries. & the devastating accident happened

Local hospitals were overwhelmed with the arrival of more than 2,000 injured Textile workers. Victims were still calling for help from among the piles of shattered concrete slabs, according to rescue workers and volunteers, as hope began to fade for hundreds still trapped. & the death toll had reached 400. After putting the conclusion that no more workers can be alive rescuer workers are now using heavy equipment to clear the site, and officials expect the number of casualties to rise as hundreds of people remain missing.

Around 4 million people are employed in Bangladesh’s 4,500 textile factories. The industry generates 80% of the country’s $24 billion annual exports — making Bangladesh the world’s second largest clothing exporter after China — yet wages remain as low as $37 per month for workers spending 15-hour shifts in sweatshop conditions.

“What to describe and what to write! All I could see were dead bodies all surround me. A silent anger, unbearable pain and helplessness had frozen my finger to click. Besets dead bodies and their each drop of blood asking me to tape their vulnerable death memoir to show the people around the world, how painfully they left the world. & I can not rest until I can spread their pain of death. Shouts slaughtered under concrete. How many times we will remain mute and hollow out graves! Why world’s most innocent souls has to be always trapped as vulnerable victims! Their souls will never rest in peace until we know how dreadfully they died without telling their last wish” – GMB Akash

Tagged: Bangladesh, Bangladeshi factory fire, Bangladeshi textile factory, Capitalism, Dhaka building collapse, economy, exploitation, fire incident in Dhaka garmentsvictims, garment factories, Garments, garments factory, Garments industry, Gmb Akash, Human rightsinsight of the terrible incident in Rana Plaza, May day, Photographer from Bangladesh, Photography, Photojournalism, politics, Savar Rana Plaza, south asia, Victims of Rana Plaza incident, woman, women died in textile incident, workers right

“Exhibition ‘Water’ By GAETANO PLASMATI & GMB AKASH”

Gmb Akash — Tue, 09 Apr 2013 19:41:50 +0000

“This exhibition is a prism of callous realities and haunting metaphors of issues of climate change. Photographs of the exhibition will reveal the bare bones of climate disaster which causes human life to suffer for eternity. Either it is flood or desertification worst is these had severe effect on human life. Desertification is already causing changes in the social environment of certain areas of the African Sahel. Agriculture, livestock, and over-population have been the primary reasons that this previously stable dry-land ecosystem has been turning into desert. At the same time as these physical changes have been occurring, social destabilization and migration also have been, leading to food insecurity, disease outbreaks, and increasing levels of cultural extremism. more than 42 million people were displaced in Asia and the Pacific during 2010 and 2011. This figure includes those displaced by storms, floods, and heat and cold waves. Still others were displaced by drought and sea-level rise. Most of those compelled to leave their homes eventually returned when conditions improved, but an undetermined number became migrants, usually within their country, but also across national borders”

Gaetano Plasmati:

The project of Gaetano Plasmati is the result of a journey that lasted 15 years and has developed over a series of trips to Algeria, Libya, Tunisia, Morocco, Mali, Niger and Eritrea. The beautiful shots by Gaetano Plasmati describe a journey in search of people who live the drama of desertification, such as the Wodaabe, the Dogon, the Tuareg. Plasmati has followed the slow and inexorable retreat of the nomadic’s territories which become less and less comfortable for traditional economic activities that sustain them.
Desertification is a danger to almost 50% of the land and puts at risk more than 100 countries with approximately one billion inhabitants. The continent most affected is undoubtedly Africa: here over two-thirds of the cultivated lands are at risk. The path of Gaetano Plasmati winds through the dunes and the rock paintings of the Acacus and Tassili N’Ajjer in Algeria, the great Sahara, the markets of the mythical town caravan Timbuktu, Djenne, Agadez, Niamey and Djanet. Plasmati has portrayed hostile landscapes and people tempered by the roughness of nature, dunes vivid colors and rocks that are museums, suks and caravans in a succession of faces and landscapes which give rise to the extreme dignity and composure with which the “nomads of water” live their atavistic discomfort.

GMB AKASH:

“I have framed how every year flood causes people suffer miserably in Bangladesh. I experienced how with the drowning sun villages go under water. How People sheltered in roofs of their houses and lost their lives. Moaning of old people & shouts of children of the miserable atmosphere can only describe small bits of devastating sufferings of flood. After facing devastating flood every year, people still fights to live apart loosing shelter for existence. Still they fight to live. They collect all destroyed pieces of house to shed their head. Women go for fishing, children dry their damp books, and men rebuild homes. In flood I spend days, nights and months in flood affected areas past 12 years. Throughout the journey, the rotten water wrapped me by leaving a restless feeling. Every day, I encounter a new tragedy by finding people who have no way to escape from rising water, who can only surrender everything to the mighty nature. Several times I have been severely injured or illnesses have torn me down. Nevertheless I continue working because of my strong belief that my pictures can make a difference.” – GMB Akash

People in Bangladesh live precariously close to the risks of cyclones, floods and droughts and more than 100 million people live in rural areas. Two-thirds of the country is less than 5 meters above sea level and in an average year, a quarter of the country is inundated. Bangladesh has experienced severe floods every 4 to 5 years that may cover more than 60 percent of the country, resulting in significant losses. United Nations’ Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change predicted that rising sea levels could submerge 17 per cent of Bangladesh by 2050, creating 20 million “environmental refugees”.

This exhibition intend to speak about harsh reality of many who are displaced from their homes and living in exile in another country, and/or from issues to become victims of natural disasters and internally displaced in their own countries. The displacement, and migration, of very large numbers of people, will be one of the most significant effects that climate change will have on humans. Often times these displaced populations will have nowhere to go except to regions that are already densely inhabited. Many of which, will likely already be having trouble supporting their own population. We are cordially inviting you to visit how water impacted life. If you are in Matera in 14^th of April 2013 do visit the exhibition and those who are far away from the exhibition Gallery, this post will give you a trailer of the show. We hope that while you are in Matera, Italy, you will take a moment to visit the exhibition.

Exhibition: WATER

Gallery: Galleria di porta pepice present

Exhibition Date: 14 April 2013

Gallery address: Via delle beccherie 55, Matera, Italy

Tagged: climate disaster, Desertification, environment, environment refugees, exhibition, Flood, Gaetano Plasmati, GMB Akash’s exibition, Italy, land ecosystem, Matera, nomads of water, Water, water crisis, water year 2013

‘Life for Rent’

Gmb Akash — Mon, 01 Apr 2013 07:35:34 +0000

Night is the meaning of life here. Don’t dare to feel I am talking about moonlit night. It’s about a place where fluorescent bulbs hesitate to light up the great darkness. You have to go step by step by listening giggles and following Hindi songs. Cheap aroma or local fragrance continually defeated to hide smells of stinks. At the place, dreams never can lose its paths even by mistakes. But it certainly can turn into the ideal background for a horror blockbuster by following nearly naked heroine’s poster or staring into a photographs where a lady wearing red lipstick with her innocent eyes hanging over fungus wall.

Four storied building’s busy staircases are lively by steps of clients. Girls for converting themselves as woman putting all make up from her dear make up box and double lighten up their cheeks with cheap blusher. For killing hunger each moment they have drunk tears and fighting with each other to get same client for a night. Excess make up, vulgar cloths and even by showing off most of the female fascinated body parts these girls can not satisfied their MADAMs.

In the race by standing full day on a door dressed like this they have to show their madam their extra talent for hunting a client. While few of them get tired of being waiting and being rejected, lastly may get one/two clients at the last moment of very tiring publicity. Then the bargaining starts. It’s bargaining of beauty, the outer seal. Minimum 100 tk – to maximum 500 tk depends on the job’s creativity and longevity. Either a client comes for an hour, for a night or for several nights they never bother to enter into the corridor of these beautiful dolls’s heart. They rather treated as a toy of entertainment.

As like being used for years after years these girls started feeling themselves as product. Product of modern day slavery. In the middle of these professionals there is also few girls common who uselessly try to hide their body with their small cloths, who will not look at any one’s eyes either for sorrow or for shame. These girls are new to the place, they been bought by madam one to two days ago. Betrayal boyfriend, step parents or their closest one play with their innocence and sell in the castle for taka 4000- 20000. Before realizing what had happened in her life her innocent soul has been captured by brothel’s reality. In between them there are girls who has been gang raped and our civilized society refuse to accept her, so she finds her MADAM as mother and releasing all bitters of her life by the profession of sex worker.

Fighting over getting men at night does not change relationship between themselves on the day. An unknown bonding for each other has tied them up and takes care of them in dear need. That’s why, when a girl out of frustration cut her full hand with blade just to torture herself, her roommate wipe it off and put medicine on it. A six feet by six feet room is world for 3-4 girls, so when customer leave they decorate the bed with flowery bed sheet or place artificial flower for adding beauty of it. Knowing a home never will come in their life still they care for their small room as like their house.

By remaining in the strict guidance of Guards for several years these birds stop weaving their wings and thus they forgot how to fly. After earning 100 tk per client 3-4 years passed thus but loans and buying money of madam does not meet up as these fates less girls can’t even calculate. If their luck is good enough few of them get little better madam who let them free after three to four years to do their business independently.

The story does not change here. Again after doing free business the girl do same mistake by giving heart to a client. Then one day come when the trusted man flew with her all money, gold and faith. All the tiny battles she had within inside, that do nothing but shape her emotions, make her able to drink her tears of blood. Stories of a brothel have many shapes. Many girls do not miss their Fazar prayer; many girls learn to recite Quran. Many girls penned their parents and send money monthly putting fake address in the envelope. Many girls forced to take a drug designed to fatten cattle for market name Oradexon.

Their day passes by. One day visibly wrinkles can no longer hidden by heavy make up, they started losing clients, then nights come when they had no one, then they become nanny of younger sex worker. & finally after death their bodies can be buried in a cemetery, though still in a separate one. But better than having their remains floating in the river covered by a sheet which previously practiced as ritual. Their existence remains in their tank which preserve full of their life memories, which lastly kept by their dear one if someone still have time to recall a sex worker.

“Its been 12 years I am familiar to them. Not only as a photographer but also as a brother. In the photograph, I am seating with my one of sister from Tangail brothel. Whenever I go there, she runs towards me by calling “Akash Bhai”, she brings sweet, tea & speaks lot about her dreams. These girls are weak for affection as I once treated her as sister now she granted me as her brother. No one knows the story of those faceless girls who are sold by their boyfriend, husband or parents. This is one way journey to brothels a place that is everything to them. By documenting on them I would like to spread their story of pains which are only locked into their own madam’s castle. . I can also tell about one girl from those uncountable faces. Unsurprisingly – and despite her name – Asha isn’t very hopeful for her own future. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get married or have children,’ she says. ‘No one will marry me. If they did they’d only keep me for two or three days, and then they’d sell me back.’ She is more streetwise than some of the other girls here, many of whom share a tragic dream that one day a knight in shining armour will arrive, to carry them off; then they will marry him, have his babies and love him forever. I wish there would be a knight in shining armour will surly arrives, to carry them off from this living hell! I wish and I really wish!” – GMB Akash

Tagged: brothels, child sex worker, child trafficking, color photography, girls, Human rights, human trafficking, life for rent by gmb akash, life in brothel, oradexon, poverty, red light area, sex slave, sex worker, south asia

Embark on the Journey

Gmb Akash — Mon, 18 Mar 2013 19:32:52 +0000

“The moment I wake up, right away, I smile…. I am aware that a life is offering me twenty-four brand new hours to live, and that’s the most precious of gifts I received, while living every second of my life for a new day, for a new hope, for a new destination. I am traveler, won’t mind to be called gypsy. Hanging my bag, holding my camera, eying over everything, I keep walking. I discover a part of me in my journey. I mostly save each penny comes from my work for traveling. Simplicity is my luxury. Visiting my maples world is pretty sweating but I don’t mind to wait. Travel brings power and love back into our life. Sometimes we plan a trip to one place, but something takes us to another. Whatever purifies it is the correct road. Thus I stepped to Istanbul with an open eye in road to be lost”

- GMB Akash

There are a handful of cities around the world that draw me back again and again. In my list Istanbul was a most desirable place to visit. I got my chance and landed for a quick tour. In Istanbul It is difficult to be in quiet places in a city of 13 million, which was best for me. I was attracted to the city for its rich history—it was the capital of three empires and it’s the only major city in the world that straddles two continents. Navigating Istanbul can be difficult for tourists. There are so many forms of transportation—trams, trolleys, ferries, taxis, metro—and so many ways to get to a place. As a travel photographer I love all options. While I keep clicking my camera, a short, wiry Turk goes past, carrying a dozen folded carpets balanced on his head. The weight of the load seems to be greater than that of the carrier. Women wearing veil, only showing their eyes, gold bangles and chains reminding women of my Old Dhaka’s. Several groups of photographer’s rooming around like me with cameras on shoulders and heads almost mechanically swiveling from side to side in an endeavor to miss nothing. The famous Blue Mosque was just near my hotel, I was stunned by seeing one of the most famous and most stunning Mosques in the world. Istanbul is a city for those who can still enjoy a sense of providence: a sense of discovery and a sense of marvel.

Continually after walking almost ten hours it was not tiring to me. As a travel photographer one must quality is to be brave. Brave to face anything and everything on the journey. I travel alone and learn to enjoy entertaining myself. It is quite fun to explore a strange place and don’t get bored in loneliness. I love to watch people, introduce with new rituals and knowing different form of life. I keep images of memory in my travel folder. Photographs are not only holding my memories, but emotions and my interpretation of an untold journey.

Wherever I go, I keep trying to match my country with places I visit. Often I started missing my country. In Istanbul I was finding my bond, hearing Azaan in mosques was weaving images of my place, my Dhaka. There is a universal language in the world, the language of love. We human being are always try to name our emotion, level our feelings so as I keep trying to write in my dairy. My days ended so quickly, with my mixed emotions I was leaving the city, Istanbul. I headed to catch another flight for another place with the imaginary in my mind ‘Splendid Istanbul’

“I am not only burning myself in these journeys, I am shaping my molecules, the discovery nor ended up here, either do I go home. I will pack my bag by holding my camera, & another mystic road will open its arm for me, and I very well known, miracles dwell in invisible. I – a lost soul will walk step by step, hearing entire in silence. When I keep learning the art to fly, I keep discovering till my universe dissolves”

- GMB Akash

Tagged: blue, bluemosque, bosphorus, bridge, daily life in turkey, Gmb Akash, islam, life style, mosque, sea, sultanahmet, travel photography, travel story, travel to Istanbul, traveling, Turkey

‘Life is a Circus’

Gmb Akash — Sun, 24 Feb 2013 17:22:52 +0000

“Behind the curtain there is different universe, a world of people who are living far from the crowd, the people who serve entertainment daily as an artist. Circus people’s life itself a mystery as their performance never can define their inner world and mysticism. A Group of shining artists are surviving in the world of circus everyday by the continual competition of entertainment world of Bangladesh. Big audiences showed them reverse appearance already but still they are moving continually with their glorious history. This nomad performers moves monthly from place to place, their dreams shaped as their house moved like each month. By their hand they demolish their own house for taking place it in another territory for another month again by their labor. Still they only bother for their performance. Nor money neither fame touches their feet. To them life is circus, they are performer of life’s stage.”

– GMB Akash

In front of the bar locked gate curious crowd of children are permanent who never get chance to enter. Circus placed usually in large space as atleast 60-100 people has to accommodate their temporary housing and the stage has to build within the space they belong too. So the circus usually placed in big, empty spaces which are mostly far from the city, run by big generators.

A teenage performer Sharmin (13) was locating her makeup box in the tiny room of her which has been separated by a curtain as in the other side her parents use to sleep. She said, ‘The sad thing is my mirror broke while my father demolished our previous house. It takes one day to build this new house. Now this is my new home for next one month’. Sharmin was just three years old while she performed first time with her mother. Her mother and grandmother both are passing their life in circus. Sharmin has 15 different dresses for performing in stage. She has her instructor who taught her different plays, while answering she giggled, ‘My Guru beaten me more than our donkey. Circus donkey and I attend same class and perform same time. I fall down many times and got hurt but you know, an artist has to suffer lot, my guru told me so, that’s why I never bother. One day I will be the best performer.’ Sharmin gets 2000 tk monthly. She along her four family members all are occupied in circus.

Eleven months these artist works and one month they get vacation. Company hires them for one year, after one year their contract renews by the time. The company is responsible for two-time food of all artists, for 6 days food are lentil, rice and smash potato, rest one day fish and vegetable. For moving from one place to another company send their track, performer break their own house and move for new place. In the new place they build their house again by themselves.

Sharmin’s mother Shilpi shared ‘I born in circus. Circus is my family and so my blood belongs to it. Three of my daughters are in circus. What else we can do? Sometimes I feel to know the world behind the gate, but then I feel that world is not for us. I belong to circus, circus given life to my creativity and I will one day die like my mother by giving birth of my best performance’. Just nearby Sharmin’s tent another lady Shipra loadly pronounce, ‘What you are looking for? The makeup is my veil. Before starting of the music we are one kind of person after hearing the announcement of show we are far different from the person you are interviewing now.’

The man can sallow 20-25 fishes and can bring them out alive from his body, Bijon said ‘For mentoring cricketer, footballer, dancer, singer government brings many persons from aboard, but here in Opera or for Circus no one brings anyone. We only create ourselves, we only show ourselves, and we only stand by ourselves. For us nobody cares.’

While Selina was wearing her makeup whispered, ‘I am no longer an ordinary girl. Now I will fly over everyone’. Coming back from the stage after her 10min performance, Selina recklessly said, ‘Sometime audiences pass bad comments on us. I dnt bother and no other girl bother here. Stop letting other people influence your attitude, your hope, your potential to do something great. Stop worrying and start doing.’

Heena (38) singing song loudly while sewing her traditional blanket with her fresh make up. ‘Its my daily life, we dont mix with outside men, I like no one from my circus team, so I am still a single and happily living my life” Announcer announced her name she swiftly kept her blanket in a bench touches the platform of circus with respect, within a second she go top of the pang and scrolled slide down her head, with a jump she come down by catching another rope. Screaming of audiences seems no reaction on Heena’s face. She came back, seat in her bench, started sewing the blanket and replied “What else you want to ask? We are human just like you, as like your sister or as your mother. “

At the ending day Lilliputian Shre Anil Chandra (50) was packing his things. A lone man has nothing much than gifts from different villages. The man who made jokes throughout plays is very silent in back stage. Talk less, share less. His bed and his trunk is his property. “World is round. We move from place to place. Women of circus sometimes cry but men never. I wait to go to a new place to see new audiences. I enjoy my gypsy life’.

“This is not the ending. Circus will rise in another place, in another village. Children of that village will run to the gate again. Vendors will seat to attract customers again. Circus artists will avail their charismatic techniques for another jaw dropping performance. Audiences from far and near will encircle the area. Heena might finish her sewing by the time; Sharmin might get a new mirror from her mother. Never ends, never be lost – Life is a Circus”

– GMB Akash

Tagged: Art in Asia, arts, Bangladeshi Circus, circus performers, Circus., color photography, culture, entertainment, Gmb Akash, Heritage, life of artist, rural culture of Bangladesh, South Asia entertainment, south Asian attraction, south Asian culture

Inescapable Jungle

Gmb Akash — Sat, 09 Feb 2013 14:20:47 +0000

“Living everyday in the shadow of terror is enough to sabotage oneself. Behind The beautiful jungle there are stories which mentally paralyzed 3,000 “tiger widows life” in the universe of Sundarbans. People living surrounded by the jungle are living in the fence of fear, fear for loosing themselves or dearer any day or any night. Sons after losing their parents, grandparents again walk to the same path with the same dignity to feed rest of the family, knowing their day may end any day, any moment by a tiny second’s ignorance. Their bravery of fighting with a small knife with the tiger is heroic only in sense if they can fought and win, if not the flesh of the hero dries and lost in salt water, where no one can get anything than the blooded cloths. The story of this surviving lasts each day, each hour, and each moment in their life. As the beautiful jungle is reason of their life and reason of their death. They and their breathe belong to the inescapable jungle”

– GMB Akash

Marium Begum’s Husband Abdul Hamid went for fishing in Hatdabra canal in the Sundarban along with two fellow fishermen after Azaan. While they were fishing a tiger swooped on him and dragged him into the deep forest while his fellow fishermen escaped unhurt. Later, forest guards recovered the bruised body from the deep forest. Marium is just one of about 3,000 “tiger widows” in the Sundarbans.

Marium is bearing the wound of lost of her husband. The day she lost him is described as “The day remains nightmare for me forever. Noisy birds were circling my hut. There were bad omens everywhere. & My heart was beating in rush. I told him not to go but there was no food to eat so he has to leave and never come again”

75 year old Momresh Sekh lost his left eye to an attack by a tiger in 1969. He was accompanied by his uncle who hit the tiger with the branch of a tree. A jagged scar runs from his head to the back of his skull. Lumps of flesh were torn from his chest and thigh. He is blind in his left eye.

Forty-five-year-old Emem Ali poses with his daughter. In 2008, Emem was the target of a tiger attack. Grabbed by the arm, he was dragged into the forest, but abandoned by the predator at last. Found and brought to safety by a companion, he lives to tell the tale. Now he is living by selling fish in the local market. He is hoping to get a shop for surviving.

It is ‘Life saving knife’ as this only tool saved Shofiqul Islam’s (42) life from the ferocious tiger which was snatching him to the jungle. Hurts kept marks in his body though honey collector Shofiqul lived form hand to mouth for four months by avoiding the path of jungle. But after four months of his attack while again he was entering into the jungle, he said ‘Either I have to earn my food or I will become food for the prey’

This shirt bears the horrific memory but it is an icon for Shofiqul (42) too. The shirt reminds him the roars of the attacking tiger, its unbearable snatch to his backbone and his spirit to fight back to it with nothing but a small knife.

Shofiqul said “You no longer have to go deep into the forest to be attacked. They wait at the banks. I have never seen that before. We believe that even to use the word tiger risks summoning one”

The Sundarbans is made up of hundreds of islands of mangrove forests and mudflats. This is one of the most beautiful but most dangerous places in the world, a place of tigers and crocodiles and dangerous seas and canals. The region is home to approximately 500 Bengal tigers, one of the largest single populations of tigers in one area. These tigers are well-known for the substantial number of people they kill; estimates range from 50-250 people per year. Because of rising sea levels and shrinking forest, humans and tigers are fighting for space. The farmers are forced into the forest to hunt for honey, fish, or collect crabs, putting them at risk for a tiger attack. Poverty forces people into the forest, into the tigers’ natural habitat. And the animals are hungry, with hunting and newly introduced diseases steadily reducing the populations of wild boars, deer and monkeys in the Sundarbans. Hindus and Muslims alike believe that only the Goddess Bon Bibi can offer protection from the big cats. There are several statues of the forest goddess scattered throughout the jungle.

45 year old Saidul has stitches put into his chin in Shemnagar Hospital. He was badly injured by a tiger while he was out fishing. He said , “I thought it was a large dog. I pushed it away and heard a splash within the time its hits me”

45 year old Abu Taleb lies motionless outside his home. He was attacked by a tiger whilst fishing and has now lost the use of his arm and leg. He is unable to walk without the help of his wife. He spent seven days on the floor of Satkhira Hospital with severe injuries to his head, back and neck. After a year of bed rest he has still not recovered from his injuries and his wife has been forced to become a day labourer and beg house to house.

In 1995, the attack was on his first day out fishing. He was sleeping in the boat when the tiger attacked. Though he survived it, the damage to his face was such that no one from his village would come near him. His parents forced a girl to marry him. At the initial days of his marital life, he would not allow his wife to look at him.

Faizun is showing her scars which are permanent mark in her head. Tigers are coming closer to villages in search of food. They smartly attacking villagers and standing near the bank. Faizun was collecting woods from near her home beside the bank of the river, while tiger attack she thought it is a big dog while realizing she remember nothing. She believes forstes goddess saved her. Somehow she manages to escape and after the attack, she fled to her hut and collapsed.

42 year old Atiar Rahman was attacked by a tiger whilst out fishing. He lost his sight in his right eye, the ability to hear, as well as severe injuries to his back, neck and face. He spent six months in hospital at the cost of 9,000 Taka (80 GBP) and is now completely bed-ridden. His wife works to support their large family by working as a day labourer. She earns 50 Taka (0.4 GBP) a day.

Because of rising sea levels and shrinking forest, humans and tigers are fighting for space. The farmers are forced into the forest to hunt for honey, fish, or collect crabs, putting them at risk for a tiger attack.

The boat is the small vehicle which is use to go for fishing in the deep forest of sundarban. & often while they stay at the boat in night tiger attack fisherman and they have to fight back.

“Inside the Sundarban there is ‘silence’ everywhere, a fear runs in veins with the fragrance of incense, standing in the village of frequently visited by Man Eater Tigers, listening villagers rhythmic chanting and prayers and feeling the urge to get back to safety all these made it helpless for urban, educated, technologically advanced people. This jungle is only understandable for the people who are made from it, the people live by jungle can’t leave the place even knowing how risky to live within. Thus they will face the hungry tiger habitually either to live or to die.”

– GMB Akash

Tagged: animals, Bangladesh, Gmb Akash, honey hunters of Bangladesh, Jungle, man eaten tigers, mangrove forests, nature, royal Bengal tigers, south asia, sundarbans, Tiger, tiger story of sundarbans, tiger victims of sundarbans, Tiger widows, wildlife

‘Ship-Creators of Mighty Bangladesh’

Gmb Akash — Sun, 13 Jan 2013 15:49:11 +0000

“Steeping into the muddy shiphub my eyes stumble on barefooted children playing ‘Akka Dokka’. By following their queries giggles I smiled to the little-girl next to me asking ‘What to your father do’? With a wide smile showing her recently missing baby teeth’s, she whispered ‘My father builds big big ships’. The place is familiar to me so as these children but I rejoice these moments every day when I jump from my boat and my day start with ‘big big ships’. I walk towards to Ship Creators, to the people that the world knows little about. Step to them, who are building ships on a daily basis with their expertise, power, energy and who dream to make something big, bigger than their life, bigger than their identity, bigger than their credits without much expectation. ”

– GMB AKASH

© GMB Akash

In the shipyard every worker is full of activity, no one have any time to talk. Constant work with flame, sound and dust may seem intolerable. Especially the constant ‘Dhang-Dhang-Dhang’ sounds of steel and hammer will auto upgrade any ones heart beat. But to the workers it’s their daily doze. These Ship-craft-masters never get tired often handle everything in spite of getting any structural design keep building ships on their own effort with their basic genetic talent without any break. Frequently without goggles, risking serious injury or blindness, they all climb tall rope ladders to the ships’ highest points to retrieve items, risking death if they slip but yet happily they keep working in the pleasure of building the ship

© GMB Akash

Bangladesh is set to emerge as a new export leader for building small ships after cutting deals worth over $ 250 million last year alone. More than 250,000 skilled and semi-skilled workers are employed in the shipbuilding industry Bangladesh. All inland and coastal ships are constructed and repaired locally in these Bangladeshi shipyards. Bangladesh has all the ingredients to turn itself into a hub of export oriented shipbuilding for small and medium-sized vessels. The full utilization of the opportunities that are now present in the global shipbuilding market can turn this sector into a billion dollar industry within a decade. In recent times, a dozen shipyards are expanding their capacity for building ocean-going ships to enter the international market.

© GMB Akash

** (There are more than one hundred shipyards and workshops in Bangladesh, most of them are privately owned shipyards. Out of these shipyards, approximately 70 per cent are located in and around Dhaka and Narayanganj along the side of the river bank of Buriganga, Shitalakha and Meghna. About 20 per cent shipyards of Chittagong division are located along the side of the Karnapuli river and six per cent are located along the bank of the Poshur River in Khulna division while the remaining for per cent are located in Barisal division)

© GMB Akash

Availability of cheap human input is the main strength of the country and this is one of the main determinants in allowing this labour intensive industry to flourish. Also, easily trainable workers can provide this country with a decisive edge over other prospective countries. Bangladesh is in very much an advantageous position in this respect as labour cost is the cheapest among other shipbuilding countries around the world. But it alleys not that only for livelihood these ship-creators give their labour to this industry. Their dream, their hope ties with it and it’s in their gene to build ships. But the work is sporadic, and after paying the rent on the family’s tiny bamboo shack, workers has barely forty cents left to feed each of the family members. With no other options, workers usually sat their eldest son down in the work. An armature’s job would add $2.20 to the family’s daily budget. Still they build their hopes, build their ships with or without expectation.

© GMB Akash

Mishir Mia and his 25 member’s team seat silently beside the shipyard. After working two long years their team builds a world class ship. It will sail within short time. No one was answering my repeated questions. After a long break Mishir Mia said “Let me bring my son sir. I will show him the ship. He will become a marine engineer one day; then he will bravely share with friends that without any degree his father once built big big ships. Let me go Sir. I will answer you later.” Team of 25 labours is sign of victory. It’s our victory. It’s Tribute to their bravery, their silent involvement in the economy. Aren’t we seeing a mighty Bangladesh?

– GMB Akash

© GMB Akash

Tagged: Bangladesh economy, climate, GMB Akash works on shipyard, Photo stories on shipyard., photography of asian shipyard, ship, ship building in Bangladesh, ship building stories of south asia, shipyard labourer of asia, shipyard of south asia, shipyard workers, transportation

Angel In Hell: The Voyage Begins

Gmb Akash — Thu, 27 Dec 2012 07:56:19 +0000

“It seems like a lost world, where standing in a quivering dark, where there is nothing but darkness, a place where you stand alone and shiver in fear. I experienced the same. Children who are inhaling pains within themselves every second make me feel small, their sweating smile flashes their innocent identity, touches of their dirt-oily little fingers interpret their presence in my life, their spoken or unspoken life stories makes me unrest. Since then, I am upholding them inside of me. A simple and small photograph’s emotions might inconceivable to you if still now you do not know any of such children who straggle each day to make a living from nothing. Till the day, I know I had to do and I have to do my bit, may be it could be major, may be it could be minor but that was the day, I open the door of my heart and take them in. I vow to fulfill their lost smile by refilling it in their innocent lips. The creation I am crafting in 10 years never give me such feeling , but then first I felt the tender of giving birth of the creation by dedicating it to the angles of hell, at least my first endeavor to bring them up from the darkest hell. I celebrate my rebirth by expanding my arms, placing as more children as I can and thus my voyage begins.”- GMB AKASH

I cannot remain mute about the oppression that divides human beings — which is one of the reasons I commenced photography and it’s been 14 years I am doing. And it is my duty as a photographer and artist to point with my pictures at every aspect of existence in the society and world I live in, to show what can be shown, to go deep into every milieu and also into every aspect of poverty, deprivation and hardship that I encounter – because the only sin for a photographer is to turn his head and look away. After 14 years, acquiring tons of awards and gaining access to all major media frankly I experience NO CHANGE in the life of people I photographed.

Despite knowing a photographer duty only tilted for showing and investigating reality but this simple rule does not bring peace to my heart. Once an 8-year old balloon maker told me, “I took some damaged balloons for my little sister; I have no time to play. I have only time to support my parents,” I realized at that point I should turn my lens on lives like them.

I decided to dedicate whatever fund I left after make a living of mine to give to these ‘Survivors’. First I decide, I will gift them opportunity which will come from my personal earnings, portion of print sells or selling portion from my book ‘Survivors’. In the industry I am a straggler yet my pursuits provoke me to make my first experiment before I publish my book ‘Survivors’. I started searching faces inside the book and outside the book, which I photographed and found in vulnerable situation. One year I compromise my time, my photography, my assignment and my daily life to search these faces, I started living with them, understanding them and keep finding what I can do to make them able to earn a better life together. My idea is, working with them within the circumstances, gifting them the opportunity which will come as advantage in their life, advocate them as an assistant, monitoring their changes in life in one word to do everything that I will do to change my fate if I were them. Searching a face which I shoot 10 years ago is not an easy job, a face can be invisible in a crowd but I am fortunate to find many of them and building trust on me. 10 successful families consisting of ave 60 members make my dream come true. I ensure their life better, much better than they were living. & this gives me faith to publish my book ‘Survivors’ which is and will be the source of finance and gifting business/opportunity/education/chance to these ‘Survivors’ whom I photographed past 10 years. It was the day when I finally face my eyes to these children and touches their hand knowing I can at least rescue few of them from their daily hell. I become one of them, I become their hope, I become their asset and thus I started valuing myself and understand the significance and purpose of my rebirth.

It was just one year ago when I again found out Munna, whom I photographed at 2006. ‘Integrity with innocence’ this is the concrete of Munna’s character portrayal. Five years ago I first met Munna. Five years have passed fates of Munna & his father brings no change in their lives. At 2011, only difference was, with his five years experience Munna was getting 1600 taka ($1=72taka) per month. Moreover 12 years old Munna was running his younger sister education with his extra income of Friday overtime.

Munna’s father Alamgir was a cobber. Their family is consisting of five members who receive continuous negligence from their community as he works as cobber. Munna & his sister ashamed to say that his father is cobber and his little income cannot give education to his younger daughter Shathi and hunger forced Alamgir to send his little son to the factory which produces rickshaw particles. Alamgir elder daughter has to get married at early age because of poverty. They managed to eat hand to mouth, but without depending on Munna’s income their foods cannot be assured. Munna’s younger sister appeared to her class one final exam by borrowing pencils from neighbors, she had nothing without will for education. Munna works in a factory which produces intolerable noise during work. His 9am-7pm works ruined his childhood. His overtime income never allowed him to play. In fact he lost his interest for playing. A shy, unspoken boy whose whole body was covered with dust and permanent scratch on skins dull his brightness in an extent that he seems belong to the darken factory. During working with him in his work time, I never saw his smile. He had no ambition, no dream and surprisingly had nothing to share with anyone.

I aim to help Munna & his family. & my journey with them begins.

After seating several sessions with Munna’s family, we come to a decision that Munna’s father is the person who can be the financial in-charge of the full family and setting him in a business that he is capable to do will be helpful for the full family. After our market survey, by understanding the business chains he decided and I agreed with him to let him do business of cucumber. My logic is not to give money at their hand. I went with him and prepare everything; in short I assist him in every way to do the business. After one month of successful business Alamgir take out Munna from the factory. Their family started having three times food and able to provide rent of the house in proper time. He manages to make his capital triple in three months.

Munna’s younger sister running her school and did top in result. She will be in class four next year. Munna’s only one dream is to support his sister in education and fulfilling his family’s loans which are liabilities of their bad time. Still he wants to support his father by at least doing something. Within two months Alamgir tried to admit Munna at school but Munna told him in his spare time he will go to night school to get same age students like him and at day time he wants to do something he likes. As well Alamgir was afraid as they are living in slum and children who have nothing to do mostly get mixed with people who supplies drugs/engage in bad works. Again after seating with them, Munna expressed to me he wants to do popcorn business and he wants to establish himself independently. I realized I cannot take out him from the situation; I have to assist them to get a better life in their present situation. So I agreed with him and go to see first what will be his changes in life if he sells popcorn near his home at sadarghat.

Now every day, Munna willingly wake up early morning after brushing his teeth he seats with his sister to learn from her. Then he goes to ghat and buys popcorn from vendor later he sells popcorn till afternoon in ghat and finishing his work at 1pm he came at home. Now within months his appearance has changes a lot, his face, hands, and legs, fingers scars are recovering and mostly vanishes. The best thing is that now he laughs, he is making friends in evening field, he is proud that he is doing his own selling and helping his family beside education. Munna who lost most of his childhood in blocked, dull factory now loves to spend time with people by selling popcorn. He becomes vocal and ambitious. He keeps savings from his selling profit of popcorn. Munna’s sister Sathi dreams to become doctor. With the income of Munna’s father and Munna they are happily dreaming for their future.

Every evening Munna plays cricket with friends. Within Nine months Munna is recovering his forgotten happiness. His few hours works, playtime, quality family time and private education changes his life visibly. A family who hardly once managed one time food now can ensure nutritious foods for their children. A pessimistic Munna is now very much optimistic about his life and future. His family is earning happiness by putting out of their mind about their past bad days. I dream to get hundreds of Munna in my journey and to refill their lost smile. I am happy that at least there are many munnas with me and I am able to make them a part of my life. I will share these stories of my life with you one by one. It’s my belief that if a single hand comes to hold a child miracle in their life can happen.

“I am a story teller, nothing but I steal emotions, this link me to those lives which wrapped me in sentiment. I am a simple human being; I do mistake and learn from it. But I like to do experiment and I hate to be defeated. I try and keep trying until I achieve. I will keep contributing magic in lives I face with my camera. I will do my part, I will do my bit. A quote from Helen Keller inspires my journey.

“I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do something that I can do.”

If your heart is moved to do something do not make it complex, plan it, do it & do it right now. Stop dreaming in expectation of Superman. Within you there is a vast chance of opportunity spread your wings & bring humanity.” – GMB AKASH

Tagged: asia, Book ‘Survivors’, Born to work, born to work by GMB Akash, brick factory, brick fields, Child baour in India, child labour, Child labour in asia, child labour in Bangladesh, childhood, children, children in work, Life of child labour, pictures of child laborer, poverty, risky job, Save the children, south asia, street children, Survivors by gmb akash, transportation

Ashes of Souls

Gmb Akash — Sat, 08 Dec 2012 19:25:55 +0000

“A silent burial ground, where may be the ashes of wounded souls are still encircling. Broken pieces of brunt smashed tiles with countless busted glasses can tell the tale how staircases could not save hundreds of scorched living beings. Imagining myself at the place of these unfortunate garments workers who burnt alive, I felt vulnerable. Shoes, bangles or an unfinished ironed cloth in the stand or the half eaten evening tiffin are standing witness, how workers died helplessly. Pieces of glass bangles all over the floor, as mostly female workers had faced the tragedy, were witness of a violent disaster those no one of them even seen in nightmares. & thus by facing fire they lost their existence in burning blaze” – GMB Akash

© GMB Akash

Tazreen Fashions, located in a rural area of Ashulia occupies a nine-storied building. The ground floor, which stored the factory’s raw materials, had the only entrance to the factory, with three staircases leading to other floors. The fire at the eight-story building of the apparel factory started on the first floor, quickly cutting off all three exits from the building. Survivors stated that at least one exit was locked while no emergency exits existed in the building whatsoever. Some workers tried to escape the fire by jumping out of the windows of upper floors – many of them died. Others choked to death in the thick smoke of burning fabrics. Many of the bodies the firefighters found in the ruins were burnt beyond recognition. Later it was estimated that more than 1,000 people could have been inside the building when the fire started. But survivors claims more. Even it takes more than two hours for fire fighters to arrive at the factory. Firefighters trying to reach the blaze were slowed because the narrow road leading to the factory made it difficult to get to the site and there was no source of water nearby. It took firefighters over 17 hours to douse the blaze at the factory, after it started on Saturday evening November 24. The fire at Tazreen Fashions Ltd, led to the death of reportedly 111 workers, but witnesses and survivors alleged that the real number dead is possibly much higher.

© GMB Akash

Raziv is one of the Survivors of the tragic incident; he worked at fourth floor along 300 other workers that evening. He said, “I smelt smoke and ran downstairs at third floor and found that the place was already full with black fumes and I cannot breathe properly. With the sound of crying women the electricity went off within 5 minutes and most of the female workers had no mobile phone atleast to see though the phone light. I accompanied by my three friends & went at the small room of the third floor where I was atleast 200 woman were standing & crying helplessly. With another worker, I broke the window of the room and give the place to female workers to go out but most of them was so afraid and cannot do anything. I cannot be selfish to fly alone and helped them to jump through. But as soon as the fire was increasing I run to the biggest exhaust fan of the floor, many women workers seated at prayer and many started losing sense. Only by hand, I broke out the fan but cannot jump. The fire was so scary that I lost my power, I called and cried to my brother, he just said ‘Jump!Jump! Then I jumped to the roof of a shed next to the factory and found myself injured at the ground! I survived but I had no money for my treatment and no one asked me to help, even after five days of the incident I am searching for my coworkers and had not get any money for my treatment. I come to the factory for my four months due wages, no expectation from these rich bosses.” Along Raziv, Few more fire survivors said, that most victims died of suffocation as the blaze started on the ground floor warehouse, trapping the night-shift staff.

© GMB Akash

In hospitals cases are alike. Injured workers hardly save themselves form fire, some lost their memory, some are in trauma, poor families has nothing to give them better treatment. Amongst huge numbers of injured, few are receiving treatment and rests of the survivors are not fortunate to get treatment except lying at home for money crisis. A survivor Kushi stated that, after jumping from the third floor she broke her legs and cried at least one hour for help but no one was there and eventually she lost her sense.

© GMB Akash

Inside the living zone of these garments workers are not rosy. Jhilpar Slum is accommodating at least 20000-30000 textile workers and alike this slums garments workers living throughout all industrial hubs with daily straggles. Rooms of 10 feet by 10 feet accommodate minimum four women workers which monthly rent is 3000 tk. One toilet and one kitchen are definite for ten families of the slum. But still after having this trouble, passing through narrow life lines women garments workers are appreciating their lives as an independent being but incident like fire in Tazreen fashions has break out all hidden frustrations of them.

© GMB Akash

Accompanying workers in the fight for their deserved salaries I also faced problems with police officers. They tried to stop me for taking photos and said many times that I am ruining my country’s reputation. Even in many cases the injured, victim’s families and workers faced continual negligence by police, local authority even after so much pressure from national and international media and having consolation from all over the world they had to fight for their due salaries. End of the day they knows they have to fight for their right after losing their dears ones and even facing fire may be easier than earning rights and justice.

© GMB Akash

Nilufar lost four members of her family. While she received call from her brother, she heard only shout, ‘Save us!” ‘Help Us’! The phone was on the line for 20 minutes & she helplessly heard the sound of wounded peoples and their mourning. She passed the whole night in front of the factory gate along her two little brothers. While rescuers had lined up all the recovered bodies on the grounds of a nearby school, Nilufar unzipped bag after bag, searching her mother, father, brother and sister-in-law. She said the charred human remains looked like chunks of coal, but no where she found any dead bodies of her lost dear faces. Police wants ID cards of these four members then she replied, “I cannot found their burnt bodies after running three days, where the hell I would find ID cards!’ The tragedy does not end here; they have a long future to bear the wound with them with a tragic memory in mind.

© GMB Akash

“While leaving the place I heard, a mother exclaims that her son’s blood demand Justice. We all know their sweats, their bloods asking answers. No, we can’t stands at more loss. No Space for Further burials. Each drop of blood, each drop of worker’s sweat asks JUSTICE. Nothing more, nothing less” – GMB Akash

© GMB Akash

Tagged: Ashulia, asia, aviation, Bangladesh, Bangladeshi factory fire, Capitalism, economy, exploitation, fire incident in Dhaka garments, fire victims, Garments, garments factory, Garments industry, Gmb Akash, Human rights, insight of the terrible incident in Tazreen fashion, Photographer from Bangladesh, Photography, Photojournalism, politics, south asia, The fire at Tazreen Fashions Ltd, thick smoke, Victims of fire in Tazreen fashion, woman, women died in textile fire incident, workers right