Celebrate, not Criticise
Soon after the collapse of the 9-storied Rana Plaza at Savar 24 April, the fire services, armed forces, police, Ansars, and other government organs moved in alongside the local people, Scouts and volunteers of all ages from all over, particularly the doctors, nurses, interns and students of nearby Enam Hospital to partake in one of the most mammoth and now most successful rescue operations in history that has seen the recovery of about three thousand people; sadly the meaningless death of four hundred workers will record this as one of the greatest industrial disasters of the world.
Sohel Rana, the notorious owner of the building being a megalomaniac adherent of the party in power did not help, although the building was initiated in 2007 when AL was not in government. 'Despite his direct involvement in Awami League politics, he enjoyed immunity from prosecution during the last BNP-Jamaat rule, as he also had close contact with some BNP leaders and senior police officers.' (Daily Star, 30 Apr)
With the nation focussing on rescuing trapped men and women, there was a constant attempt by some quarters to divert the attention.
That 'rescue operations were being suspended and the building was being brought down mechanically' was floated fictitiously on the second day. Only on the fourth day when rescuers agreed that there was no possibility of finding anybody alive by manual means as employed from Hour One, the rescuers under the coordination of the local GOC, Army, undertook the use of heavy machinery in continuing the risky rescue operation.
'Garbage trucks have been lined up to remove hundreds of dead bodies' was another bluff aired by some fishing in troubled waters, and yet TV channels were counting the dead and the injured by the head, as well as reporting Live in presence of thousands of saviours the number of bodies that were being handed over to the hapless families, and those lined up at Savar Adhar Chandra Model High School.
Then there came a letter on from a medic at Enam denying earnestly that there was no truth in an appalling gossip that more than 150 bodies were concealed in her hospital. With the number of freelancers involved under the 24-hour watchful eye of the media, it was impossible for any sleight of the hand.
Rumours obviously thrived about Sohel Rana after he disappeared since the collapse. That he had withdrawn 23 crore Taka from his Savar bank accounts, that 20 of that was given to AL fund, that the government was helping him escape, etc. He was arrested at Benapole on the fourth day to silence critics, only to create new ones who suspect Rana or the arrested garment factory owners shall not be punished, or will be granted presidential pardon. Noticeable trend though was that Murad Jong, the local MP, pictures of him kissing Rana's temple making splashes in the media, could not approach the Prime Minister when she visited the affected Savar area and the victims on the fifth day.
So why was Rana, a criminal, brought to Dhaka by jamai-ador in a helicopter, was also a cry from the depths of despair of sections trying to politicise the matter. The people seemed uninterested. Do we not see the same persons raising hell had something untoward happened if he was escorted by land? His cohorts could have snatched him. It has happened. The vehicle could turn turtle. It has happened. The ferry could be stuck. It has happened. The helicopter did travel with detectives to Benapole, and it had to return to Dhaka.
This was not a time to criticise unconstructively. This was a time to celebrate civilisation as manifest in the mindless exertion of compassion to pull out from the debris unknown fellow human beings; the possibility of an aftermath collapse was always looming large. This was a time to bury one's hatchet and provide succour to the betrayed souls that toil for our economy.
There lay a survivor with the roof slab inches from his head. He saw two of his friends pierced in a brick-wall, dead. He said he returned from his grave.
'Bhai, tell my mother to forgive me. I am from Pirojpur, Hularhat. Bhai, if I die, please send my body to my village,' whispered one to a rescuer.
'Bhai, if necessary, please bring me out by cutting my leg. Save me, I can bear this pain no more,' heard another hero as he neared another ill-fated victim.
'Bhai, give me a hammer, I can do it myself.'
'Cannot breathe, I will die from the stench of the corpses. Bhai, can you please get me some oxygen?'
'Bhai, bring me out from here, I have a two-year old son, save me for him, I have to feed him.'
Even the dead spoke at Savar. A body clutched a piece of white paper. On it was written: 'Forgive me Amma-Abba for I shall not be able to buy you medicine any more. Bhai, take care of Amma and Abba'.
Others did not live to tell their tale. Their near and dear ones waited.They will wait.
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