Banani Godown Slum fire: 'At least you're alive. Be grateful', mother tells daughter
“Nobody was even living in the shanty where the fire started. I felt the heat first, and then the flames just exploded, spreading in seconds. Now we have nothing left – no roof, no walls, nothing but ashes where our home used to be."
"Everything's gone. My daughter Mim is cold. She is shivering. There are no warm clothes, not even a towel. All my belongings are ashes. How can I run the family now? Under the open sky, starving and with nothing?"
Taslima, a mother living in the Godown Slum in Banani where a fire had ripped through this (24 march) afternoon, was speaking to her mother in Cumilla through her husband's phone.
Her mother, from the other end of the line, offers comfort: "At least you're alive, Taslima. Be grateful. Money and possessions can be replaced."
Keep updated, follow The Business Standard's Google news channel
"We moved here in December. If I'd known everything would be reduced to ashes before my eyes, we never would have come."
Describing the origin of the fire, Taslima said, "It started in a shanty right next to mine. There's an open field in front of the slum where they burn plastic, wires, and paper all the time. I thought the smoke and smell were just from the usual burning, but then I realised the fire was right beside my room!
"Nobody was even living in the shanty where the fire started. I felt the heat first, and then the flames just exploded, spreading in seconds. Now we have nothing left – no roof, no walls, nothing but ashes where our home used to be."
Mohammad Walid Khan, a driver from Pirojpur, said, "It's all burnt. Nothing is left. My home – burned to the ground. All of my savings – Tk30,000 stored in clay pots and tin boxes, my important documents – all burnt to ashes,"
Having waded through the now flooded streets, Walid stood before whatever remained of his home.
"While I was driving to Gazipur for work, my wife called me in tears. Our slum was engulfed by a massive fire, she said. It felt like the world had collapsed around me. I rushed home on a motorcycle that cost Tk800."
By the time Walid arrived, he saw that nothing had remained. "There was nothing left to salvage. My wife escaped with our son, clutching his hand. Not even her phone or clothes could be saved.
"We're left with nothing. We have nothing left to live for."
Omar Faruq, 42, a rickshaw puller from Kishoreganj, said, "I was at Banani 11, upon seeing smoke billowing up over the slum I rushed to my home. By then all are gutted, even at first encounter I couldn't recognise my home. It's no more a home than debris."
Driven by fear for his family, Omar continued, "My first priority was finding my wife and children. I looked everywhere but couldn't find them. Thankfully, I later discovered they were safe at a neighbour's shanty across the road."
Omar was trying to find out his wife's gold jewellery from the ashes, seemed to find a needle in the haystack.
Mohammad Robin, 12, said, "My brother and I were asleep. It was past 3:30 in the afternoon when panicked shouts woke us up. We scrambled out of bed and ran for safety as fast as we could."
Robin continued, his gaze shifting to the partially burnt refrigerator, "My aunt Nasima just bought this fridge a week ago, and now...well, at least it's not completely gone."
Nasima, 45, said, "By the time we realised what was happening, it was already too late. I took my grandson and ran, but the flames singed both of us. We have burns from our shoulders down to our hands."
