Chapter 23
The call comes long after they have gone to bed.
Ghadiya answers the hand phone. Hasina can hear her cousin’s voice go from sleepy to excited in two short words.
‘Hello? Daddy? I’ll get her.’ Ghadiya turns to Hasina. ‘He wants to talk to you.’
Hasina holds the phone to her ear. Is this what she’s been waiting for? Have her parents been found? Is it good news or bad?
Uncle Rashid wastes no time. His voice is full of energy. ‘Hasina? I can’t speak long. I am waiting for a call from the refugee camp. But I have good news. Your parents have been found.’
‘Where are they?’
Beside her, Araf stirs and wakes. ‘What is it? What is going on?’
‘Uncle Rashid has found Mama and Baba!’
Ghadiya tumbles out of the bed. ‘I will go and get Dadi.’
Hasina puts an arm around Araf, who snuggles into her side. She holds the phone between their ears so they can both hear.
‘Ibrahim and Nurzamal are with Rukiah at the camp,’ Rashid continues. ‘They are safe and, I believe, they are well.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Rukiah found them. And then a non-government organisation called me. The NGO workers are trying to arrange for your parents to phone you. It will be in a few days. Now, I must go, Hasina – there’s another call coming through. But the news is good.’
‘I will tell Dadi—’
But Rashid has already hung up.
Hasina and Araf hug each other tight. Their parents are alive. Alive! At last, they have real news. Hasina doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. How long has it been since she last spoke to her parents? She adds up the days and weeks into months. She has yearned for just this news. What will it feel like to speak to her mother again? Wait until she hears about the rice harvest! What will it feel like to speak to her father? Will he be pleased with her? Has she done the right thing by her brother and cousin and grandmother? She thinks back to the terrible night of the men like demons, to the last time she saw her parents. She doesn’t even feel like the same person.
Araf, as usual, is full of questions. ‘When will they come home? Do they miss me? Where exactly are they? Will they bring me a present? Oh, when are they coming home?’
Hasina laughs. ‘Of course they miss you, Araf. But you can ask them yourself. Uncle Rashid says they will call in a few days.’
Just then, Ghadiya returns to the room.
‘Ghadiya, your mother has found Baba and Mama. They are all in a camp in Bangladesh. Did you tell Dadi Asmah?’
But Ghadiya’s face is anxious. ‘Hasina, I can’t wake Dadi.’
Hasina feels a stab of fear. Quickly, she pads across to her grandmother’s room, Ghadiya and Araf behind her.
Asmah looks tiny and frail beneath her thin coverlet. In the moonlight, her face is grey.
‘Dadi,’ Hasina whispers, ‘we have good news. Wake up!’
But Dadi Asmah does not wake up.
‘Dadi?’ Hasina places her hand on her grandmother’s forehead. Her skin is clammy and hot. Gently, she shakes Asmah’s shoulder. ‘Dadi? Wake up, Dadi. Uncle Rashid has found Baba and Mama!’
Asmah sighs, but doesn’t open her eyes.
‘Please, Dadi.’ Hasina is about to grip her by the shoulder again when something strange happens to her grandmother’s body.
Asmah begins to shake. Her whole body shivers, her teeth chatter, her legs rattle. The shivering lasts for a long minute before she is still again.
‘That is what Araf looked like when he had the fever,’ Ghadiya whispers.
Hasina stares at her cousin. Ghadiya is right – this looks like fever. Which means that Dadi Asmah needs medicine, and she needs it now.
But there is only one place Hasina can think of to get what Asmah needs: U Ko Yin’s shop at the bazaar.
Chapter 24
Just before the first light, when the watchman opens up the steel doors, Hasina and Araf arrive at the bazaar entrance to wait. Under one arm, Hasina carries a heavy parcel. This is the only thing left of value in their home – Aunt Rukiah’s textbook.
‘Come on, Araf,’ Hasina whispers, taking his hand and rushing him through the silent bazaar as soon as the doors are opened. When they rattle the steel roller door at the Brothers & Sons Puppet Stall, a sleepy Isak pokes his head under the bottom.
‘Isak,’ Hasina whispers, ‘oh Isak, Dadi Asmah has fever and I need medicine fast.’
Isak rolls up the door to his room and invites them onto the platform. ‘What can I do to help?’
‘I need to buy medicine from U Ko Yin. Can I leave Araf with you?’
‘I can do better than that. We will go together. I don’t like you talking to that man alone.’
Hasina would like to say no, but the truth is, she feels safer with Isak at her back. The three of them walk towards U Ko Yin’s stall.
Hasina stops in a sheltered spot just before they get there. She gives Araf a quick hug. ‘Please be patient and wait here with Isak while I talk to U Ko Yin. Thank you, Isak.’
‘Don’t worry. I will be right here.’
Hasina takes half a dozen steps towards U Ko Yin’s stall. Up ahead, U Ko Yin is fussing around a new delivery of rice and medicines. And who should be wheeling it in, but Zaw Gyi from the construction village. At the sight of him, Hasina’s heart lurches and she shrinks into the shadows, waiting until the bags of rice are piled up and Zaw Gyi has gone. Then, with her heart in her mouth, she prepares to speak to U Ko Yin.
‘Uncle?’ she calls in a small voice.
But U Ko Yin is too busy writing on white card with a red pen, making a sign advertising his new stock.
‘Uncle?’ Hasina repeats, this time louder.
U Ko Yin turns and grimaces. ‘Oh, it is you,’ he grunts.
Hasina shi-khos deeply before him. ‘Uncle, may I—’
‘I am busy right now, Hasina. Come back later.’
‘Sorry, Uncle.’ Her voice feels very small. ‘Uncle, my grandmother is very sick.’
‘Humph,’ U Ko Yin grunts, busy with his sign.
‘I need some medicine for her. Please, Uncle. How much? For medicine?’
At the magic words how much, U Ko Yin’s ears prick up. He swivels around and gives Hasina his best salesman’s smile. ‘Very good medicine. Foreigners’ medicine. Special price for you. Ten thousand kyats.’
Ten thousand kyats! It is a fortune. And whether it’s ten thousand or two thousand, Hasina doesn’t have it. All she has is in the parcel.
‘Uncle, I have no money, but I do have this.’ She unwraps the maths book that Aunt Rukiah brought all the way from her school in the south. Thick, heavy, full of the numbers that Hasina loves so much. It is a wrench, but she holds the book out to U Ko Yin.
‘A book! A book!’ U Ko Yin laughs. ‘What do I want with a book? It is in English! Not even in Myanmar language. You will have to find something I want, if you must trade for your medicines.’ His eyes narrow. ‘I have told you – your boy, he should be working. I can get him a job. Not at my teashop, mind you, but another one. Then you can have all the medicines you need.’
‘Araf is too young.’
‘Your choice,’ retorts U Ko Yin. ‘But too bad for your grandmother.’
‘Please, Uncle. Is there nothing else …’
U Ko Yin ignores her. He is finished with her.
Utterly miserable, Hasina turns to trudge back to Isak and Araf. She feels like weeping, but what good would it do?
Araf launches himself from the shadows. Isak follows close behind.
‘Did you get medicine for Dadi Asmah?’
‘No.’
‘No?’ exclaims Araf. ‘Why not?’
‘He wants ten thousand kyats.’
‘Give him the money.’
‘I don’t have it, Araf.’
‘What about the book?’
‘He doesn’t want a maths book, he wants money or …’
‘Or what?’
/>
‘Or nothing. Forget U Ko Yin. We will find another way.’
‘What way?’ Araf demands.
Hasina doesn’t have an answer.
Before she can stop him, Araf pulls away from her and sprints straight towards U Ko Yin. He tugs at his longyi to get his attention.
‘Please. My dadi must have medicine. I will do anything.’
‘Anything? Now we are talking,’ U Ko Yin replies, his voice oily. He shoots Hasina a triumphant grin. ‘Would you like a nice job in a teashop? The pay is all the medicine you need. Good medicine, from foreigners.’
‘I will work in your teashop.’
‘No Araf!’ Hasina cries out in horror.
‘Let the boy speak for himself.’
Isak steps forward. His dark eyes flash with defiance.
‘Araf, come here.’ Isak grabs Araf’s arm and pulls the boy to his side. ‘You leave him alone, U Ko Yin, he is only a boy. He will not work for you.’
U Ko Yin shrugs his shoulders and smiles his insincere smile. ‘We will see about that.’
Tears flow down Araf’s face as Hasina and Isak march him back to the family stall.
‘Araf,’ Isak speaks gently, ‘the boys who work in teashops are stolen from their families. They are treated very badly.’
‘But what about Dadi?’ he wails.
‘We will think of something,’ Hasina replies. ‘But please, stay here,’ she begs.
‘Don’t worry, he is safe with me,’ Isak promises.
Hasina unwraps the precious maths book. This is her last chance. She walks to the Arakanese part of the market. She sees a woman opening her stall.
Shyly Hasina approaches her. ‘Mingalar bar,’ she begins, in Burmese. ‘My grandmother is very sick. I need ten thousand kyats to buy medicine. I am selling this maths textbook.’ The woman looks at Hasina in surprise. She narrows her eyes and shakes her head.
Hasina tries stall after stall. Nobody wants to speak to, let alone buy from, a Rohingya. One man shouts at her, ‘Ask your own kind for help.’ Another takes pity on her, and gives her a packet of sweets. But that is all.
After an hour, Hasina still does not have money or medicines. She is about to return to the family stall when she spots the kind Arakanese man. She has come full circle in the market.
‘Please!’ she calls to him.
He stops, turning to face her, and Hasina takes a few faltering steps towards him. ‘Please, you have been so kind to us. I want to ask you for one more kindness. My grandmother is very ill.’ She gets no further before hot tears pour from her eyes and her voice shakes. ‘I need ten thousand kyats to buy medicine. I have no money. I am selling this maths textbook.’
‘Ten thousand kyats?’
‘She has fever. U Ko Yin has foreign medicine.’
‘What kind of medicine?’
‘Tablets.’
‘Like these?’ The Arakanese man fishes a shiny packet of pills from his pocket.
‘Yes,’ she cries, her heart leaping with hope. ‘Like those!’
The kind Arakanese man turns to his stall and pulls out a metal box. Inside are more shiny packets full pills in different colours and sizes.
‘You said fever?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then, she needs to take these morning, noon, evening and bedtime.’ He hands her a silver packet before fishing out another, this time with green and white capsules. ‘And these too, once a day, with her breakfast. By the way, we sell the fever medicine for two hundred kyats not ten thousand. These others, two hundred and fifty.’
‘Thank you.’ She shi-khos to the kind man and then hands him the book.
‘You keep your book,’ he says.
‘But I must repay you.’
The kind Arakanese man sighs. It’s a sound both sad and weary. ‘We’ve seen such bad things. There is nothing to be paid. Just stay away from U Ko Yin.’
Hasina sprints back to their stall, relief flooding through her. She holds the precious slab of medicines in her fingers. Get Araf, she plans. Thank Isak – Isak, who is always there when she needs him. Get home. Give Dadi the medicine. Quickly, quickly, she repeats this in her head.
But when she gets to the stall, Isak is slumped on the ground. And Araf is nowhere to be seen.
‘Isak!’ Hasina cries. ‘Are you okay?’
Isak groans. ‘Hasina?’ He lifts his hand to his head. ‘Ouch.’
Hasina can see a large swelling rising on Isak’s skull. ‘You’re hurt! What happened?’
‘Someone hit me from behind.’ He touches his scalp gingerly. ‘Where’s Araf?’
Hasina feels the warmth drain from her body. She checks behind the curtains. No Araf. She rushes back to Isak’s side. Her foot hits a white package on the floor, neatly tied.
As soon as she sees the packet, Hasina feels that dead weight in her stomach. She picks it up and unwraps it with trembling fingers. Inside, there are several boxes of foreigners’ medicine stamped AID in red. There’s also a bit of paper. In red ink are the words 10,000 kyats – received in kind.
‘Isak, look at this!’
Isak takes the paper from her hand. ‘It’s a bill of sale.’ He looks up at Hasina. ‘U Ko Yin has Araf. He has bought him.’
Hasina turns and runs to U Ko Yin’s stall. U Ko Yin is writing more signs in the same red pen.
‘Uncle,’ she says to U Ko Yin, ‘I found these medicines.’
U Ko Yin looks up at her. He smiles a nasty smile. ‘I told you, you can have all the medicines you need. As long as I get what I need.’
‘Where is Araf?’ she demands.
‘He asked me to find him work.’
‘He’s too young!’ she shouts.
‘Your kind shouldn’t be shouting in the bazaar. People will think you’re causing trouble.’
‘Where is Araf, please?’ Hasina begs.
‘You should be thinking about your sick grandmother. Araf is thinking of her. You don’t have much time if she has fever.’
Hasina peers beyond U Ko Yin’s shoulder and into his empty teashop. She steps around him, searching beyond the tables.
‘You won’t find him here! I told you – he will have a job, but not in my shop.’
‘Give him back! Please! I beg you.’
‘Araf has decided. The deal is made and a contract is a contract. If I were you, I would go home to your grandmother. Give her the medicines while they can still make a difference.’
Chapter 25
Hasina runs the whole way back. How have things got this bad? She must get the medicine to Dadi. But if she does, how will she find Araf? If she searches for Araf, how will she get the medicine to Dadi? By the time she gets back to the stall, colour has returned to Isak’s face and he is sitting up.
‘Where is Araf?’
She hangs her head. ‘U Ko Yin has him.’
‘No!’ Isak groans.
‘I don’t know what to do, Isak. I need to get medicine home to Dadi. But I also need to find Araf.’
‘This is all my fault. Let me help you. Please, Hasina. Let me look for Araf.’
‘But your head.’
Isak gives himself a shake. ‘I’m fine. Look, if U Ko Yin has Araf, then Araf must still be here in the bazaar. Nobody knows this place like I do. It’s the least I can do. You take the medicine to your grandmother.’
‘But—’
‘Go!’ he commands. ‘I will find Araf and bring him back to you.’
Hasina arrives back at Third Mile Street just as Dadi Asmah is having one of her shivering fits. Ghadiya is putting a cool compress to her head.
Hasina holds up the pills from the kind Arakanese man. ‘I have medicine. She needs these morning, lunch, evening and bedtime. And these, at night and in the morning. Then, we have to wait.’
Together, Ghadiya and Hasina rouse Dadi. They give her the medicine. When her body begins to cool and she seems more peaceful, Hasina pulls her cousin aside. ‘We have another problem,’ Hasina whispers to her cousin. ‘A very bad pr
oblem. U Ko Yin has Araf.’
‘What!’ Ghadiya exclaims.
‘I think he’s taking him to work in a teashop somewhere. Isak is looking for him at the bazaar. I am going back there now.’
Hasina places U Ko Yin’s box of medicines on the bed. She explains how she tried to trade the maths textbook for this medicine. How U Ko Yin had wanted ten thousand kyats and then, how he wanted Araf to work for him. How Araf has said he would work for U Ko Yin. How the medicines were worth far less than U Ko Yin was asking. How Isak had been knocked out and Araf taken.
‘Poor Araf, he is trying to help,’ Ghadiya cries.
Just then, there is a call from outside. Hasina’s heart lifts. Isak is here. But when the cousins run outside, they find Isak alone.
‘I searched everywhere. I asked the stallholders. Nothing,’ Isak says, miserable. ‘This is all my fault.’
‘They knocked you out, Isak.’
‘I think we need help. Adult help,’ Ghadiya interjects.
Hasina agrees. But who can they turn to? The kind Arakanese stallholder? But he has already given her medicines. Would he really stick his neck out for a Rohingya against another stallholder, even though it is U Ko Yin?
‘So, he is not in U Ko Yin’s shop, not even in the back room?’ Ghadiya asks.
‘He wasn’t there,’ Isak replies.
‘U Ko Yin was very clear – he will not be working in his teashop. He will be working in a teashop,’ Hasina says.
‘Tell me exactly what you saw this morning while we were waiting for you near U Ko Yin’s stall,’ Isak says to Hasina.
‘U Ko Yin was unloading rice. The rice with the red stamp – you said it is a gift to us from foreigners. I remember that, because Zaw Gyi was delivering it.’
‘Zaw Gyi?’ Isak says. ‘The truck driver with the messy hair? I saw him hanging around. It must have been him who knocked me out.’
Something clicks together in Hasina’s brain then. It is like the day of the helicopters, when she could just see what she needed to do. ‘What if Zaw Gyi is delivering the boys … Think about it: the first time we met him, he invited Araf to climb into the cab of his truck.’
‘He said he could find him a job. In a teashop,’ Ghadiya exclaims. ‘And he brings in the AID rice and medicines. He must go back and forth to Sittwe all the time.’
Hasina: Through My Eyes Page 13