I reached out to a boatman I knew, hoping he could help us escape. He agreed but demanded a steep price—around $250 per person. We had no other choice. We waded through waist-deep water to reach the boat and set off in the middle of the night. By dawn, we arrived on the shore in Bangladesh. I was exhausted and in pain from my injury.
Just when we thought we were safe, the boatman detained my eldest son, insisting on full payment. Helpless, we spent the entire day in Teknaf, reaching out to family members and friends to gather the money. My injury was worsening, but I couldn’t think about that while my son was still being held. Finally, we were able to pay, and he was released to us.
We then made our way to the refugee camp [Teknaf], where my sister-in-law and I tried to find medical help for my wound. The first facility we visited was too costly, so we continued looking, moving from place to place. Eventually, I was referred to a larger facility, where I underwent surgery.
After 45 days, I was discharged, but I was told I’d need follow-up care. By then, we were trying to secure tokens as new arrivals and missing this would mean even more suffering.
My wound has only worsened, and I know I need to go back for more treatment, but I can’t bring myself to leave my family in this vulnerable state. I’m exhausted, uncertain, and struggling to keep us together in these conditions.
We are nine people packed into a small shelter meant for just four, sharing the space with my wife’s grandmother’s family. Food is scarce, and we survive on the few rations given by the Majhee [community leader] but it’s never enough. Some days, we only have one meal, and I have to look into my children’s hungry eyes, unable to offer them anything more. Water is limited, too. We each make do with a single jar a day.
Our future here feels bleak. We have no home, no income, and no certainty about what lies ahead. My children’s lives feel overshadowed by hardship, and now I’ve heard that the token distribution has been postponed again. Without proper documentation, we are denied access to essential services, including health care. My ongoing medical needs are unmet, and I fear for my health and the wellbeing of my family.
Each delay only adds to our fear, knowing we may soon have no support at all. We’ve borrowed from every relative willing to help, but even their patience is wearing thin. Soon, we may truly have nowhere to turn.”
* Name changed to protect privacy