Our last field day in Bangladesh. Again, we started our day in a slum – Rupsha. I had been here on my previous trip. It had not improved. The narrow lanes with room for only one person to pass, the filthy black runoff beside the path, the tiny houses crammed together. Cooking fires added smoke and at the occasional pump, water was collected and clothes were pounded and washed. Wet clothes lined the way. And, of course, beautiful people standing in doorways or inside busy with children or household tasks. No one should have to live like this.

We made our way to the Child Friendly Learning Center – always an oasis in these places. There we met with three girls who had worked in the shrimp processing center but were now out. And we heard their stories. Bristi is 13 and now in grade 7. She remembers the exact date she worked about two years ago now. Bristi is a star! Beautiful and outgoing – she is an excellent student, honored volleyball player, debate champ, and dancer. Her future is bright now and she wants to be a teacher and help her people. And this firecracker could have languished in menial hard work all her life. Her family story is too familiar here. Dad left and one sister left to work in Saudi Arabia as a “maid” but we know that is code for sex worker. She left behind a little boy who Mom is raising. Mom says her daughter is a maid but deep down, I think she really knows. It just doesn’t bear thinking about.

Fatema’s story was the hardest for me. Now 18 and looking 12 or so, this tiny young woman worked for 8 years peeling and deheading shrimp! When she was rescued, she had only completed grade 3 and the schools considered her too old to now attend. Instead, she received life skills training and is now an excellent seamstress, both sewing and selling fabrics in the area with Mom’s help. Dad is gone after suffering a mental breakdown and running off. They don’t know anything about him now – a truly lost person. Unlike Bristi, there were few smiles and she was dressed in black. Tears started to flow as she talked about her lost dreams and watching friends still in school. She was robbed of her childhood.

The last girl we heard from is 15 year old Nilufa, also a shrimp worker for a year. She is now in grade 9 and is doing so well. Her mom now has a fabric business to raise their income. Dad is gone – a far too common theme here. Nilufa likes math and hopes to work in a bank when grown. That dream is now possible.

We visited each girl’s home – such a privilege to be welcomed there. So often, attempts have been made to decorate the homes for our visit! Balloons, paper flowers – anything to brighten it up. There are really no windows as one is surrounded on three sides by the neighbors, The doorway brings in the light and air although they do have electricity so feeble bulbs struggle to dispel the gloom. Of course, the wiring would give an inspector fits over here!

Nilufa’s home is very close to the Rupsha River, and twice a month, at high tide, their place floods to knee high depth. They accept this very matter-of-factly and when asked why they don’t move, we were told the floods keep the rent down! When one of our woman suggested some improvements, Mom shook her head. Rent would go up. Now we are thinking of them as a cyclone is battering that area. Surely they are under water.

Joining us for lunch, we had more time with these young women and their families, Fatema showed up in a beautiful bright yellow outfit which she had made. Her very long black hair curled down her back and smiles came more readily to her face. My heart lifted some on her behalf. My prayer is that she will continue to learn and study on her own and that God would “restore the years the locust have eaten.”

Back at the center, we watched Bristi dance so gracefully along with two other girls. She then sang a song for us. There is nothing this girl can’t do! We then visited with smaller groups of girls and shared stories and a few pictures on our part,

Our last visit was to a Life Skills class of 20 girls, 12-16 years old and in grades 3-8. We observed some class activities centered around the theme of compromise. These classes meet twice a week for two months and the girls learn about their rights, hygiene, protection and so much more. They come away better equipped to handle the immense challenges of their lives. There are classes for boys as well. The class ended with our joining them in a couple of games.

Back to the hotel for food and sleep. Heading back to Dhaka in the morning,