Basha Boutique

 Basha creates high quality, unique, handmade products which reflect our love for the traditions of Bangladesh while employing women at risk and survivors of trafficking. Basha, the house that hope built.

[bashaboutique]

First baby

The plan was to work with street children. And the mazaar, the burial site of a Muslim Shia saint,was certainly the place to find street children. This public site, where no one is turned away, is always teeming with people...people coming to pay religious homage, yes, but also people who are down and out. Handouts are available, as well, they hope, is fresh favour from the gods and  a change of fortune.

But that day changed everything. Yes, the children were there, bright dirty faces with eager hands reaching for alms. But that day the screams of a woman in distress broke through the usual din of the mazar.

A teen girl was giving birth in the midst of the busy mazar grounds. People were pulling at her arms, at her legs, trying to help her but doing anything but. Hosneara Khatun, CUP's Director, had worked previously in community birth, and she knew this girl needed a hospital... quickly. Her and another CUP founding staff member, Ruth Lipika Hira, helped her to a nearby hospital. With proper care she was able to give birth naturally and, within hours, was released from the hospital with her infant daughter. She still had nowhere to go except the mazar, finding some level of protection from others in the same merciless state.

All seemed to be fine for the first few days, in spite of the dire circumstances. But one night mother and baby went to sleep on the hard pavement, and the baby girl never woke up. Perhaps her mother had inadvertently smothered her. Perhaps something else. But the sadness of this short life served a greater purpose. From that day forward, the Children's Uplift Programme (CUP) changed their focus from children to pregnant girls/women and mothers with young children. “We realized it was best to start nurturing the baby before she comes into the world,” Ruth says.

Both Hosneara and Ruth are quick to relate the story of the “first baby.” It was the event that helped them realize that, although people were helping with street children, with sex workers, with homeless, … no one was helping pregnant women. They were alone on the streets, their only option for food was to beg. They had only their bodies to shelter their babies from the night.

Hosneara taught the staff how to reach out to the pregnant girls. How to help them build a support system, how to access resources, how to eat properly, and how to care for her baby once she was born. Eventually CUP opened a night shelter to ensure women have a safe place to stay before and after giving birth. CUP has now supported 200 births- 100 who participated in their long term training and rehabilitation programme, and 100 who came in just for support during their pregnancy.

If you visit the building shared by CUP and Basha, you'll see a room full of newborns- there are ten at the moment with two more on the way. You'll see rooms teeming with energetic toddlers. You'll see young students learning their letters or singing songs with gusto. Almost all of these childre were born at CUP. If their mom's have not already received full time employment at Basha, they are preparing to one day.

These children have a lot of hurdles to overcome. At Basha we're greatful that that ill fated birth on the grounds of the mazar, meant that so many babies had someone to nurture them before coming into the world.

A young mom, abandoned by her husband early in her pregnancy, recovers from childbirth at CUP night shelter and day programme.

Two of the newborns receiving care from CUP.

  One of CUP's Founders, Beth Jennings, cradles Bijoy who is now five years old and who is in Basha's day care while his mother works at Basha.

“Without darkness, nothing comes to birth, As without light, nothing flowers.” - May Sarton

“Birth is not only about making babies. Birth is about making mothers--strong, competent, capable mothers who trust themselves and know their inner strength.” - Barbara Katz Rothman

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It was never meant to be a home for little girls. SIM's Children's Uplift Programme, initially a drop in centre for mothers on the streets, established a night shelter for women in crisis. This centre has been used by many in need: women about to give birth, women nursing newborns, women with mental health issues, and physical issues; women escaping from pimps; even recovering from a suicide attempt. But as CUP opened it's doors to women in crisis, they couldn't say no to the young girls from the streets who came too.

Rekha's* mom was pregnant without a husband, unacceptable in Bangladesh society. She left her baby with a woman who didn't keep the child but instead passed her on to a woman who lived near the Mirpur Mazar, a religious site as well as a hub for criminal activity. Rekha was raised to beg to support herself and her foster mother. Approaching people on the streets and going door to door can bring in a reasonable amount of money, but there are dangers too and Rekha was frequently a victim of sex abuse. Her small shoulders also bore marks inflicted by her foster mother.

She first came to Children's Uplift Programme with another young friend from the streets in 2009 when she was around six or seven years old. They were enticed by free food, warm affection, and a first interaction with foreigners! When she first arrived at CUP she sought love the only way she'd experienced it- through inappropriate touch and sexual gestures. Gradually she responded to the redirection, parental affection, clear boundaries, and safe environment. She started school, ate three healthy meals a day, formed friendships with other children, and for the first time, was able to just be a child.

Eventually the woman who had raised her realized the income she was losing and tried to take her back. Because she wasn't a biological child, CUP was able to file a case with the police and keep her away. Angered, this woman spread rumours that CUP was trying to sell Rekha to a brothel. The reality was that that was likely her own intention.

Rekha continued to do well in school. She participated in counselling with the other girls. She flourished in school, often earning the highest marks in her class. Yet she was still being exposed to other women in crisis on a regular basis, still facing the threat that her foster mother could take her, still living in a crowded city in a crowded night shelter.

While younger children were able to go to boarding schools, Rekha and the other seven girls over six years old were not eligible. Multiple facilities were sought yet these girls were excluded from everyone's eligibility requirements. There seemed to be no alternative to the Dhaka shelter.

But then an email was sent to people around various entities working in Bangladesh. A boarding school for visually impaired girls had relocated their programmes to Dhaka and wanted to rent out their facility. With ten rooms, a garden, trees and nearby schools, it seemed the perfect site for both the girls hostel and a third office for Basha. The staff from the blind school were trained and ready to step into a new position as well. Lota didi had loved the blind girls and cared for them as a mother. She had mourned their loss, and was more than ready to have new charges.

Rekha and the other girls wasted no time settling in. They moved in right before Christmas and participated in community events with gusto. Instead of being stuck in an urban apartment, they are making trinkets from local clay, climbing trees, picking fruit. They are attending a local private school and have tutoring after school. They are learning to play the harmonium and learning traditional dances.

In Dhaka, the reminders of their lives on the streets, facing abuse, fending for themselves, were always present. Being in a new place, participating in community life, having opportunities to play freely has allowed them to have a childhood.

“Childhood should be carefree, playing in the sun; not living a nightmare in the darkness of the soul.” -Dave Pelzer, A Child Called “It”

“It's never too late to have a happy childhood.” - Tim Robbins, Still Life with Woodpecker

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She woke up to him kicking her, right in the hip, over and over. She told her husband she has to sit to sew, to earn, and he makes it painful for her. He responded with a blow to her ear. And it bled. What caused this night time rage is unknown. But it's not that uncommon. Sometimes their husband wants more of their paycheck leaving them without enough food. Sometimes he thinks she lied, that she wasn't really at the office late, or really earned more than she told him.

But to a Bangladeshi woman, her marriage is everything. An unmarried woman, particularly a poor woman with children, is vulnerable to advances of thugs. Her character is suspect. Her children's future is jeopardized. While many women's vulnerability and victimization initially came from her husbands abandonment, the reality is that she still loves him. And when she's stable and has a job and he returns, she's happy.

Basha employees long for a good family life. Their children long for their fathers. And more often than not, these men are doing what they saw their whole life. What they think is normal, acceptable. Often they're carrying the humiliation they experienced themselves throughout the day as they were bossed around and abused by those of a higher class with more standing.

I'll never forget a conference we did for husbands years ago encouraging families to be "torture free." One husband said incredulously, " I never heard of anything like this."  Bangladesh is a country where sixty-five percent of Bangladeshi men perceived wife beating as justified (Immigration and Refugee Board of Canada, 2004). Where 87% of women reported that they had experienced domestic violence, and 77% said they'd been abused within the past year indicating that they are habitually abused (nationwide survey titled "Violence Against Women Survey 2011," conducted by the Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics in collaboration with the United Nations Population Fund). 

Basha employees dream of a happy family life. So that is what we dream for them too. Last month the women in Dhaka made invitations for their husbands to attend a seminar on marriage. Their regular teacher and her husband conducted the meeting and talked about issues that they face as partners. They were encouraged to help and support one another. Kajol said her husband promised to help with marketing after the meeting. Maya's husband came to appreciate where she works and what she does. Shima's husband is more inspired to work and to be more financially responsible. I won't name the woman who's husband reminded her that she shouldn't nag him either! 

It's small steps, in a place where abuse is systemic and where change is slow. But we've seen so much transformation in the lives of Basha artisans, we're optimistic about their husbands as well. 

"if we truly knew what the word love meant...we would never hurt others or ourselves. Never." -Timothy Pina, Soul Vomit: Beating Down Domestic Violence.

If you'd like to read more:  

http://bd.thedailystar.net/most-abused-at-homes-8422

http://www.dhakatribune.com/law-amp-rights/2014/mar/13/bangladesh-presses-ending-violence-against-women

http://archive.thedailystar.net/beta2/news/domestic-violence-still-pervasive/

http://www.bangladeshsociology.org/Domestic%20Violence%20against%20Women%20in%20BangladeshBEJS%209.2%20Final%20_new_.pdf

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Who made your clothes?

On 24th April last year, 1133 people were killed and over 2500 were injured when the Rana Plaza factory complex collapsed in Savar, Bangladesh. While only miles away from Basha Enterprises, Basha's working conditions could not be more different.

Basha, a social business creating high quality, unique, hand made products, employs women at risk and survivors of trafficking. Basha's premises are safe and comfortable. Artisans earn a living wage and receive medical benefits. Artisans participate in training one hour per day, giving them opportunities to improve their literacy, gain confidence, and to have expanded opportunities. All employees are involved in decision making and given a voice. Children attend day care on the premises, preparing for school, or receiving tutoring or financial support to attend local or boarding schools. Everyone has opportunities to take on new roles, to be promoted, to help develop new products. We emphasize that Basha belongs to all of us, that we are all important and will work to build a bright future together. Basha artisans know their creations go around the world, and they smile proudly when they receive feedback from someone in a distant country who loves their Basha product and lets us know. 

In an area surrounded by garment factories where conditions are often very different, we at Basha long for a day when consumers will demand products that were made in safe conditions, and where everyone received fair remuneration for work well done. 

Let's all take time on this anniversary of such a horrific event to ask who made your clothes (and blankets!) and say a resounding thank you.

[bashaboutique]

Overwhelmed

We’ve been some sad times at Basha over the last few months- losing Tania’s smile and energy, and her infant daughter we were looking forward to knowing. Experiencing the fear of little Mim being kidnapped and rescued just before being trafficked. Fatema’s father dying.

So when I heard the screams and saw the tears, my heart sunk. It took a while to understand as the words tumbled out, one on top of the other, “I’m not good. I know I’m not good. But now you say I’m good.” Rina had just found out she was selected to be employee of the month!

We started selecting someone about a year ago. It gives us a chance to praise each employee one at a time: to show that we notice, not just the ones who produce the most, but the one who stayed late to help clean up; the one who is always good natured; the one who used to lose her temper all the time, but didn’t all month; the one who didn’t think she could sew that piece but she did.

Rina is clearly surprised she has been selected. “I have so many pains in my heart, but today I forget all these things. I am overwhelmed.”

Rina received a new outfit, and her photo plaque joins the others on the wall. And then we start watching for the next woman to honour, hopefully to surprise, and to show her, in one small way, how very special she is.

[bashaboutique]

Remembering Tania

At Basha we've celebrated so many firsts... our first day of operation, our first employee to be promoted to a supervisor, our first order from each different country. But this one, this one we could have done without...The first Basha woman to die, too young, too soon.

Tania found Children's Uplift Programme  in the early days of their work targeting mothers living on the street (please see www.childrensupliftprogramme.org). With a newborn to care for and a husband addicted to drugs, landing in and out of jail, it was not an easy life. When her second son was born, she participated in CUP's rehabilitation and training programme. Pictures of various celebrations and events show her telling a story, acting in a drama, bringing laughs and joy through her antics.

Tania's early days at Basha were a bit difficult. She would put so much effort into her hand sewing, yet she produced little. We changed her job to machine sewing and helping out with other tasks around the office which she was able to do more successfully.

When she became pregnant with her third child, Tania told people that if she had a daughter, she was sure her husband would “become good.” Instead her life slipped away within hours of giving birth to that daughter. The baby girl died a couple of days later. We held a small memorial service in the office, gathering together to sing, remember and pray. And as the women share their memories, grieve the loss of their friend, years of loss and pain accumulate in their words.

And it seems to senseless and cruel, like it should be from an earlier era that childbirth takes your life, not 2013. But in a Bangladesh village, it can still happen. Maternal mortality has actually improved greatly, declining 40% in the past nine years. But for Tania and her two little boys who will carry her giant eyes and infectious grin into the future, it's still just not low enough.

“Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back.” -Mitch Albom, For One More Day

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Close call

She ran home for lunch and left her young daughter with her mother.  But her mother didn't realize, and by evening time Mim was gone. A neighbor saw sweet Nim unattended and took her, sold her, a mere $57, but it's likely another sale was in the works. They searched and searched, took a loud system through the area, and finally got enough information to find out who had taken her. By force they found out the area she had been taken and tracked her down. The family wouldn't give up their purchase until the police were contacted, but we are now celebrating. Mim is back, her mother's tearful, prayerful vigil is ended, and we are freshly aware of how we must train and protect those we love.

To add an update a few days later: the people who helped were demanding pay. The people jailed were set free. I couldn't understand why there seemed to be no paperwork from the arrest. They want no trail when those arrested bribe their way free. And how many children will be trafficked in the future because no one cares about the children of the poor and powerless.  

“Our problems stem from our acceptance of this filthy, rotten system."  Dorothy Day

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Basha 'shop'

When you hear their stories you might cry. When you see them now, you marvel. Their strength and fortitude as they come daily and work away is inspirational. But trauma leaves a trail. And we see that trail, especially on hot days when tempers flare. Or when sickness makes it's rounds. Or when space is tight. Or when stress at home pervades work. Or when a gentle request is misconstrued. We started out fining for these outbursts which shatter the peace. But when your budget's tight and your responsibilities huge, that only makes things worse, and tension leads to more outbursts. Staff put their heads together and came up instead with the Basha 'Shop'.  Each day women get points for attendance, helpfulness, promptness, participation... Points are subtracted for outbursts. Every Wednesday women use their points to purchase things from the 'shop'. There is a wide variety of items, thanks to donations made to Basha. There are clothes for men, women and children, school bags, jewellery, hand bags, shoes, candles, trinkets, children's items, toiletries. With donated money we buy staples such as rice and dal (lentils). We are grateful to all who have made this possible through your donations. We not only have a better work environment, our employees have items which are useful and a blessing to them. Thank you!

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Basha cuppa

“Good morning how are you I am fine please come again,” she fires words off in rapid succession. In the early days she said she couldn't learn- she avoided all the classes, Bangla, English. It all just seemed too hard to her. As did everything else. Uneducated. Abandoned by her husband. Abandoned by her family. Deserted by everyone who should have treasured her. Forced into a brothel. Then the harsh streets of Dhaka.

She found Children's Uplift Program. And they did all they could to find work for her. But she couldn't learn to read and write. She couldn't focus to sew or make their beaded jewellery. They invested in a tea stall for her to run. But her tea... sometimes it's good, but sometimes there's too much sugar, sometimes too much milk. She had customers, but someone without power- they can't always get their customers to pay. What wasn't taken or sold, she drank, until her pulse raced and she'd lie awake all night. It was soon clear this enterprise was not going to succeed. It was time to count the losses and admit failure.

Basha came into being. But she still couldn't sew, and the kantha blanket, a product all Bengali women are familiar with and can typically learn, for her was impossible. She began helping with day care. But a woman who can't read, how can she help the children learn? And her frustrations with herself and the stress of the job- she'd sometimes pound her head on the wall and collapse in tears.

And now she cleans. And when the office floors are clean, that's her. When you receive a soft clean blanket, that's her. And when literacy and English classes are taught, she's there, learning as best she can. And when you visit our office and are served a cup of tea, that's her.... and just maybe the sugar and milk will be exactly right!

  "Over the years I have developed a picture of what a human being living humanely is like. She is a person who understand, values and develops her body, finding it beautiful and useful; a person who is real and is willing to take risks, to be creative, to manifest competence, to change when the situation calls for it, and to find ways to accommodate to what is new and different, keeping that part of the old that is still useful and discarding what is not.”  ― Virginia Satir

[bashaboutique]

Transformation

She shouldn't have taken the fabric, it's true. It was particularly pretty. She didn't think we'd need it. The anger flowed through my voice- harsh and strong. It brought the desired result- the fabric returned. But her face was sad, and she said she couldn't stay. I said I knew she thought we didn't need it. I said I now saw that many were taking items they assumed we wouldn't use. I announced what I hadn't realized needed announcing- that nothing should be taken away, whether it looked like we needed it or not.

But she didn't come back. And we missed her and her careful stitches and her steady manner and wide eyed son. One day, two days... and there she was.

She came into my office. I expected excuses, complaints. My initial harshness stared me in the face as she asks my forgiveness, says she knows she was wrong. But she talked about that time away. How she'd gone to the streets where she used to live. She saw her old life looking back at her and she knew she couldn't go back. She spoke of her young years, with a stepmother treating her as a slave. Never going to school. Never feeling love.

And she said this was the first place she'd felt love- CUP and Basha. A training center and a job. A training center and a job.

I get so busy, and I see that we are not keeping up with orders. That I'm weeks behind. That my plans, policy projections are all horrendously out of date. I forget that it's a place they come to for love, for dignity, for making something beautiful, and simultaneously feeling something beautiful. And I'm humbled as my tears trickle down and my priorities are jumbled and I'm glad I'm changing too.

“I strongly believe that love is the answer and that it can mend even the deepest unseen wounds. Love can heal, love can console, love can strengthen, and yes, love can make change.”Somaly Mam, The Road of Lost Innocence: The True Story of a Combodian Heroine

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Following the latter course

As an afternoon rain storm breaks the sticky heat of the day, I long for coolness to break through and bring calm to the violence and unrest in Bangladesh. As people’s lives still ebb away, lying trapped in the Savar building that collapsed, thousands have taken to the streets with sticks and bricks, easing their rage with shattered glass. And why not break all the windows, when your powerlessness rises up hot and violent? When greed forced thousands of people, human beings, sensing the danger, to enter an unsafe building. Poor, powerless, they couldn't refuse; not if they wanted their pay check, not if they wanted to feed their family.

Those protesting know their life is just as cheap as those dying. They are valued only for the 10-12 hours of work they can put in each day producing cheap garments, making as much profit for the owners and retailers as possible, creating the bargains we all love. Apurbo Shohag expresses this rage on Facebook: “In this country death comes easy. Because the cheapest thing is the human life. Not only today's disaster in Savar, we have heard many times after the previous factory disasters that those who responsible including the owners will be brought to justice. But we don't see them get punished. So such disaster happen again and again. The bodies pile up in greater numbers.”And what do you do when this powerless hits you in the face? You smash everything you can.

Fifty people were injured in clashes with police at the collapsed factory site as people don’t feel the rescue is going as it should. On Friday a protester was run over by a bus, resulting in a rampage through Gulshan, a section of town usually protected from such violence. On Saturday Basha offices were closed as the women feared the protesters would turn to us as one of the few places open in the area.

I feel the same hot anger that wants to lash out blindly whenever I read the life histories of Basha employees. The multiple people who abused them, sold them, violated them. Knowing there wasn't anything to keep them safe, no one to rescue them. How powerless they really were against an evil fate, only years later to come to a safe place bearing scars I would give anything to erase.

I have a fresh understanding for the huge challenge Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King. Jr., and others who led nonviolently had, a renewed respect for what they accomplished. To quiet this rage and to filter it into a powerful, non violent response is huge! Smashing a bus, or the local Pizza Hut, or a factory that IS providing good, safe jobs- how does that help anything? But to transcend the instinct of rage for intentionality- that seems impossible.

I have no answers. People in Bangladesh need jobs. Factories won’t come here with all the corruption, political issues, poor infrastructure, if prices aren't low. The fact that so many people do put up with abuses indicates just how desperate they are for work. But o, if they only could work, not with resignation to their powerlessness, not with misguided rage at all they encounter, but instead, build a strong, powerful, and peaceful voice. May we all be inspired by the words of Martin Luther King Jr., “As my sufferings mounted I soon realized that there were two ways in which I could respond to my situation either to react with bitterness or seek to transform the suffering into a creative force. I decided to follow the latter course.”

http://www.thedailystar.net/beta2/news/fight-for-life-on-under-debris/

http://www.thedailystar.net/beta2/news/rmg-workers-go-berserk/

http://www.thedailystar.net/beta2/news/rescued-after-45-hrs-under-rubble/

photo (AP Photo/A.M. Ahad)

http://photos.mercurynews.com/2013/04/27/photos-protests-and-arrests-follow-bangladesh-building-collapse/?repeat=w3tc#1

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Prayers for a missing child in Bangladesh

More than 15,000 women and children are trafficked out of Bangladesh every year. (Police estimates, http://www.webpage.com/hindu/daily/980220/03/03200004.htm 19 February 1998)

Every day, over 50 women and children are trafficked out of Bangladesh through the land border areas. (Trafficking in Women and Children: The Cases of Bangladesh, UBINIG, p.8, 1995)

Between January 1990 and September 1997, there were 845 cases of kidnapped children reported in the media in Bangladesh. 512 or 84% were rescued. (President of the Centre for Women and Children Studies, Ishrat Shamin, "Trafficking in Women and Children: A Human Rights Crisis)

There are two basic methods that traffickers obtain women and children: One is to kidnap them. The second, is to lure the women with false promises of jobs and marriage options. Traffickers pose as prospective grooms, then take the girls out of the border as their wives. (Trafficking in Women and Children: The Cases of Bangladesh, pp.16 &17, UBINIG, 1995)

Accessed 16 April 2012 on http://www.uri.edu/artsci/wms/hughes/banglad.htm

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Hartal (Bengali: হরতাল hôrtal)- the act of closing shops or suspending work, especially in political protest.  

As Bangladesh has a number of politically hot issues currently, a number of parties are reacting by essentially shutting down most commercial activities and motorized transport. Hundreds of millions of dollars is lost as a typically industrious nation grinds to a halt. This week hartal's were held on Saturday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.  This causes so much hardship, especially for the poor. 

Basha is small enough to carry on unnoticed, and as most of us are able to walk or ride a rickshaw to work, our risk is low.  The most frustrating thing is seeing the children who should be in school and calculating how many days they are missing.  Basha children have a unique privilege as they attend our day care, participate in classes, practice their English, and review their subjects, but what effect will this have on a nation when children can't even go to school?!

You can read more here: http://www.thedailystar.net/beta2/news/a-country-of-hartals/

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The infant caught my eye as I walked to work.  So sweet, so vulnerable. As I coo'd and pinched those sweet cheeks I saw the marks on his mother; signs of internal pain relieved through deep cuts to her own flesh.  Additional scars down her cheek reveal that someone else has cut her too.  She cradles her infant and her daughter leans in.  She tells of two other children who died.  She knows our partner training program is near by.  She's been there before.  "Come with me," I say.  "I will have to go every day," she objects. "Is that so bad?  I can see your life is hard.  Don't you want to give this baby a different life? Come with me, I will give you a job."  "Tomorrow," she says.