Photo Story

Life At a Standstill

Anika Hossain
Photos: Zahedul I Khan

Dhaka city is quiet. The usual background music of life– the all too familiar sound of traffic is missing. The air is clear of polluted black smoke. Roads are empty, most shops are closed and children stay home from school. As pleasant as it all sounds, there is an undercurrent of fear in this peaceful scenario. Violent outbursts can happen anytime, people worry for their safety as they make the mandatory journey to and from work. Businesses suffer, people lose income and all everyone wants is for the Hartal to end and to go back to their hectic, frustrating, unsatisfactory, regular routine. Lets take a peek at how a hartal is perceived by the average Dhakaite.

The students of Residential Model College are out of luck. There is no hartal holiday for them. “Our classes have not been cancelled,” says one worried student “but we did have an exam scheduled, which has been cancelled because of the hartal. It's risky to go to college during the hartal because of all the trouble on the streets–we are worried for our safety but on the upside, it takes less time to get there because the roads are empty.”

His classmate, also expresses his concern, “Our parents are very worried about out safety. We just don't think the issue they are protesting against is important enough to hold a hartal. Why doesn't the opposition protest at the parliament instead of harassing the public? What have we done?”

Our average working woman must also find a way to get to her office somehow. “I face many problems because of the hartal,” says Shapla Khatun, who owns a clothing factory. “Two of my working days have slowed down because of this. It is also difficult to move around on the streets with so much uncertainty and outbreak of violence everywhere. I have been waiting for my bus for a long time in this heat and I don't know when it will arrive if at all.”

Our average working woman must also find a way to get to her office somehow. “I face many problems because of the hartal,” says Shapla Khatun, who owns a clothing factory. “Two of my working days have slowed down because of this. It is also difficult to move around on the streets with so much uncertainty and outbreak of violence everywhere. I have been waiting for my bus for a long time in this heat and I don't know when it will arrive if at all.”

For some folks however, hartals aren't all that bad. IUB student Fahim Zaman and his friends who have time off from their university, are out on the streets, playing cricket to their hearts content. “We can't usually play because there aren't too many fields available,” says Zaman, “The ones that we have in this city are always booked. We can play on the street today because it is a hartal, and our universities are closed so that's nice for us.”

Rickshawpuller Mohammad Shujah Mia is also benefiting from the hartal. “My income is better during the hartals because private cars and buses don't come out as much but many offices and work places remain open,” he grins. “So people usually take rickshaws to go to and from work. We can also take our rickshaws out on VIP roads during hartals which we would not be allowed to do on any other day. On a regular day I earn about 400 to 500 per day but on a hartal my income goes up to 700 or 800 Takas.”

Ambulance drivers are also taking full advantage of the hartal and making quite a bit of profit. “We are needed more during hartals because private cars are not allowed on the roads,” says driver Ashim. “When we go out of town during a hartal we charge 10,000 but on a regular day we charge 8000 Takas. If we are travelling within the city we charge 2000 Takas during a hartal and 1000 on a regular day. We don't really face any risk during hartals.”--Way to rip the public off Ashim!

Not all public transport systems are running at a profit though. CNG driver Mohammad Milon shares his woes. “Business is terrible during a hartal. I usually earn 700 to 8 00 Takas a day, but during a hartal, it is difficult to make even 200 Takas. Also, there is always a risk that my CNG will be damaged when there is trouble on the streets.”

While intercity public transport is still available, the long distance public transport is at a complete halt. Buses are crowded at the Gabtali Bus Terminal, but they aren't going anywhere during this hartal. “We have left our counter open but bus lines are not operating today,” says Abu Shahid, the supervisor of Village Line Buses. The owner Jahangir Mia says “We are making losses amounting to 2 or 3 thousand takas per day and since we get paid on a daily basis, we have no salary coming in. We don't have any faith in the police. They burned down a parked bus right in front of our terminal yesterday, the cops were standing right there. They don't really provide us with any protection.”

Bus Helper Noyon has his own problems with the hartal. “I don't get a salary if the buses don't operate. I usually make 250 Takas per day, so I've lost 500 in the past two days.”

Vendors selling perishable items are perhaps a group that bears the biggest losses. “I have had this stall for the past 26 years and hartals have always been bad for business,” says Mohammad Majnu, a fruit vendor “Regular customers who come by car to buy fruits from here, so whenever there is a hartal there is a huge loss for me. My fresh fruits go bad if I leave them out here for too long so I lose a lot of money. I have invested a lot of money on these fruits and every day there is a hartal I make a loss of about 2 to 3 thousand Takas. I am a poor man and this is a large amount for me.”

“Sales are low because of the hartal,” says Mohammad Sabbir, the owner of a butcher shop at the Mohammadpur Municipal Market, “We are not even making one tenth of what we make on a regular day. Usually, we have meat from two or three cows, today I only have meat from one. It's a huge loss for us.”

Vegetable vendor at the same market, Mohammad Morshed Alam shares his troubles. “We have not increased the prices of our vegetables because of the hartal, despite the fact that we are suffering from huge losses, almost 50 percent. My vegetables are rotting here.”

High-end food shops are also facing hartal blues. “Business definitely slows down during a hartal because private cars stop running,” says salesman Amin at the California Pasty Shop. “Our customers usually come by car. We don't even have half the customers who come on regular days, especially during lunch hour. Our baked goods are wasted. We have ordered less than half of what we usually do, but we are still operating at a loss.”

Meanwhile, our protectors, the law enforcement officers of Bangladesh are vigilantly guarding the streets. Police on Hartal duty at Shahbagh reassure us by saying “There hasn't been too much disturbance in this area. Our duty is risky, but we are taking all possible precautions to keep everyone safe.”

It appears that by far, our traffic police have had the most peaceful hartal experience. On these occasions, they have absolutely nothing to do. “Faizul Alam, a traffic police, from the Ramna Traffic Zone says “I don't really have much to do during a hartal. I have to be at my post but that's about it. Usually we have three officers on duty in this area but today it's just me,” I'm sure we can all find it in our hearts to be happy for this guyz.