She returned to work after a year – now Shahinur is missing in Keraniganj fire
Officials said an excavator would be brought in to clear the wreckage at the site – the only way to know how many, if any, remain trapped beneath.
Just three days ago, Shahinur Akter made a decision shaped by necessity.
After nearly a year away from work, the 35-year-old mother returned to a small gas lighter factory in Keraniganj, hoping to ease the financial strain on her family. Today (4 April), that decision turned into a nightmare.
She has been missing since a fire ripped through the factory in Kadamtali's Dipjol Goli area in Keraniganj. The Fire Service has so far recovered five bodies.
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As dusk fell over the charred site, Shahinur's relatives stood outside the burned-out building, clutching her photograph, scanning every stretcher, every face, every piece of debris that emerged from inside.
"My cousin went to work in the morning," said Sagar Hossain, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "Since we heard about the fire, her phone has been off. We can't find her anywhere."
A year ago, at her husband's request, Shahinur had left the same factory job after working there briefly.
Her husband, Raju Ahmed, earns a modest income at a clothing shop in Islampur. It wasn't enough. On 1 April, Shahinur went back to work.
Khukumoni, another cousin, could barely speak through her tears. "Bring my sister back," she pleaded. "Even if it is just her body."
Shahinur's story is one of many. A few steps away, another family was holding on to hope just as tightly.
Zahid, a day labourer, clutched his mother Parveen Akter's national ID card, showing it to anyone who might recognise her name.
Parveen has been working in the factory for the past year and a half. This morning, she had left for work as usual.
By afternoon, everything had changed.
"My daughter Mim also works there," Zahid said. "When the fire started, she ran out and came home. She said, 'Grandmother is still inside. I can't find her.'"
Mim had joined the factory only six months ago, working alongside her grandmother.
"I came running," Zahid said. "The fire was blazing. The whole place was dark with smoke. After it was put out, I searched everywhere. I still can't find my mother."
For those who live nearby, the fire broke into an ordinary day without warning.
Md Masud, a local resident, had been asleep when people started shouting.
"They said there was a fire. I ran," he recalled. "Some who came out told us no one was inside. But later, after the fire was controlled, bodies started coming out."
The bodies were burned beyond recognition, he said, except for one woman, whose face could still be partially identified.
"There could be more inside," he added.
By evening, the factory was no longer a building but a heap of twisted tin and ash. The roof had collapsed inward, sealing off parts of the interior. Firefighters continued their work, moving cautiously through the debris as a crowd gathered outside, watching, waiting.
Officials said an excavator would be brought in to clear the wreckage – the only way to know how many, if any, remain trapped beneath.
For the families, time has slowed into something heavier. Every passing minute stretches the space between hope and certainty.
