The Malaysian dream sank in the Andaman: Poverty and uncertainty grip those left behind
The sea swallowed a crowded trawler bound for Malaysia, but the tragedy did not end there. In Samiti Para, families of the missing now face a daily struggle for survival amid uncertainty and loss
Just two months ago, the family was getting by, albeit with difficulty. Her husband, Md Harun (35), was the sole breadwinner. He worked as a doctor's assistant at Cox's Bazar National Hospital, and whatever he earned was just enough to keep the household running. But fortune was not on his side. Since the trawler bound for Malaysia sank in the Andaman Sea, life has seemingly come to a standstill for this small family of Raziya Sultana from Samiti Para.
The incident in question is the trawler that sank in the Andaman Sea in April while illegally carrying passengers from the Teknaf coast of Cox's Bazar to Malaysia. The vessel was carrying between 280 and 300 passengers when it went down. Many of those on board remain missing to this day. There is still no confirmed information as to whether they survived or disappeared beneath the deep sea. According to the International Organization for Migration (IOM), more than 250 passengers remain unaccounted for following the disaster. The trawler sank on 8 April, largely due to overcrowding and rough sea conditions.
According to information reported by various media outlets, most of those on board were citizens of Bangladesh and Myanmar. Among the passengers believed to have perished, around 150 were Rohingya, while the remainder were Bangladeshis. However, two days after the trawler sank, nine passengers were rescued alive. Of them, six were Bangladeshi nationals and three were Rohingya. The Bangladeshis were identified as Md Hamid of Samiti Para in Cox's Bazar, Md Akbar of Nuniar Char, Md Mohiuddin Hridoy of Mirsarai in Chattogram, Md Tofail of Baharchhara in Teknaf, Md Sohan Uddin of Laturir Ghona in Hnila Union, and Md Syed Alam of Teknaf Sadar Union (Desh Rupantor, 13 May). Among those reported missing were 240 men, 20 women, four children and 13 crew members (BBC Bangla, 15 April).
Along with these missing people, the dreams, security and everyday lives of their families have also been swallowed by a deep abyss of uncertainty. For Raziya Sultana of Ward No. 1 in Samiti Para, Cox's Bazar, the trawler disaster is not merely an accident; it has become a prolonged wait. Hoping to change his family's fortunes by reaching Malaysia, Md Harun boarded the vessel and left home two months ago. Before leaving, he told his wife nothing about his plans. It was only a day later that he called to inform her that he was on a trawler bound for Malaysia, asking her not to worry about him.
For the past two months, there has been no trace of Harun. No phone call, no message. Due to her physical condition, Raziya has been unable to make inquiries herself. It was through local people that she learnt her husband was among those who went missing in the Andaman Sea trawler disaster. Since then, each day has become an exercise in waiting.
Raziya still does not know whether Harun is alive or whether the sea has claimed him. Nine months pregnant, she is now struggling to care for her two sons amid deep uncertainty. Her eldest son, Hossain (15), was a ninth-grade student. After his father's disappearance, the burden of supporting the family fell on his shoulders. He has since dropped out of school and now works at a local vegetable shop. At the end of the day, he earns 200 taka in wages. That modest income is all the family has to put food on the table three times a day.
I never imagined I would have to send my children to an orphanage. I never thought we would face such hardship or have to depend on others for food.
Even Eid al-Adha passed in hardship. People in the neighbourhood came together and gave the family around two kilograms of meat. They stretched that meat over many days, hoping to save whatever little money they could.
As if that were not enough, a recent nor'wester storm tore the tin sheets from their home. Raziya had no means to repair the damage. Neighbours provided a few old sheets of corrugated tin and some plastic sheeting, which she used to patch up the house as best she could. That is how the family continues to get by.
Whenever she speaks about her husband, Raziya struggles to hold back her emotions. Tears gather in the corners of her eyes and her voice breaks with grief. The distressed mother-to-be does not know what the future holds. Within days, she is expected to give birth. Yet she has no idea whether the child she is carrying will ever see its father.
"Neither my parents nor my parents-in-law are alive. I don't know what I should do or where I should turn for help. I don't even know whether my unborn child will come into this world and see their father's face, or whether I will ever see my husband again. Somehow, I'm managing with my two sons. They're still young. They don't understand how to handle any of this," Raziya said, wiping away tears as she spoke.
The dilapidated house in Samiti Para has now been engulfed in gloom. A visit reveals the story of two teenage boys forced to grow up before their time, and a woman whose tearful eyes remain fixed on the doorway, waiting for her husband to return.
The Andaman Sea disaster did not only swallow lives; it shattered the ordinary lives of countless families. The household of Amina Khatun in Cox's Bazar's Samiti Para is trapped in a similar state of uncertainty. A mother of five, Amina still does not know whether her husband, Jahed Hossain (31), is alive or lost beneath the sea. She and their two sons and three daughters once lived a relatively stable life.
A fisherman by profession, Jahed earned enough to support the family comfortably. But one night, without telling anyone, he left home. Two days later, Amina received a voice message. On the recording, Jahed simply said: "I'm on a trawler now. Don't worry about me." Amina had so much she wanted to ask—where he was going, when he would return. But she never got the chance. The phone belonged to someone else. Despite repeatedly trying to reach that number afterwards, she was never able to contact her husband again.
Then came the devastating news. One day, a neighbour named Hamid informed her that Jahed had been travelling to Malaysia. The trawler carrying him had sunk in the Andaman Sea. Hamid himself had been among the passengers on board. He was one of the nine people who were later rescued alive and is currently in detention. It was through him that residents of the area learned that Jahed, along with several other men from Samiti Para, had disappeared in the middle of the sea.
More than two months have passed since then. Exhausted by the endless waiting, Amina is now preoccupied with the struggle to survive. Overwhelmed by hardship and poverty, she has withdrawn her eldest son, aged nine, from school. She has also sent her two sons, Salauddin and Syedul, to an orphanage, hoping that at least they will be guaranteed two meals a day there. There is no one left in the household who can earn an income. The boys are still very young—the elder is nine and the younger seven. Meanwhile, Amina's eldest daughter, Hamida, who had previously suffered abuse from her father, has taken refuge at her maternal grandparents' home.
In these difficult circumstances, Amina feels almost entirely helpless. There is no source of income in the household and not even a guarantee of three meals a day. When asked how the family has been surviving, she falls silent for a moment before replying softly:
"People in the neighbourhood give us one or two kilos of rice. Sometimes relatives help with food. That's how we've been managing for the past two months. Eid al-Adha came and went, and we didn't even see any meat. I don't know how much longer we can carry on like this. All I can do is pray to Allah."
As she speaks, her eyes fill with tears. Yet life was not always like this. The family had never known such hardship before. Now, alongside poverty, they are living with constant emotional anguish.
"I never imagined I would have to send my children to an orphanage. I never thought we would face such hardship or have to depend on others for food," Amina says through tears.
Despite everything, she continues to hold on to hope. She believes that one day Jahed will return, place his hand on his children's heads, and restore the family to the life they once knew. She refuses to accept that anything terrible has happened to him. Even after more than two months, her days are still spent waiting for her husband's return.
Ibrahim had been increasingly worried about various family matters. The household was struggling with poverty, financial hardship and a limited income. After weighing his options, he decided to seek work abroad. But travelling overseas by air required several lakh taka—an amount far beyond his means. So, hoping to change his fortunes, he secretly set off for Malaysia on a trawler without informing his family.
Twenty-nine-year-old Ibrahim worked as a driver and engine mechanic. However, his earnings were not enough to adequately support his three children. It was this financial pressure that ultimately led him to make the decision to leave for Malaysia.
Yet Ibrahim told no one about his plans before departing. His wife, Jubaida Akter, had no idea he was even considering such a journey. Before his phone went out of network coverage, Ibrahim sent her a voice message.
"I'm fine. I'm on a trawler. I'm going to Malaysia, so don't worry about me."
That was all he said.
Since then, there has been no trace of Ibrahim. His brothers have tried to find information about his whereabouts. They visited the families of other men from the area who had made the journey, hoping someone might have news. But they found no answers.
Later, they learned through local residents that Hamid had been rescued alive. It was from him that they heard what had happened. According to Hamid:
"When the trawler sank, everyone was drifting in the sea. I saw Ibrahim floating in the water as well."
Beyond that, neither Jubaida nor Ibrahim's family knows anything about what became of him. No further information has emerged about his fate.
Jubaida has two sons and a daughter. Her eldest son is six years old, while the youngest is just 18 months old. With such young children to care for, she too feels as though she has been cast into a vast and unforgiving sea. She does not know how she will raise them or what lies ahead for the family.
For now, Ibrahim's elder brother, Md Saddam Hossain, has stepped in to support the household. He has been looking after his younger brother's wife and children. Yet he himself is far from financially secure. A doctor's assistant at Cox's Bazar Digital Hospital, Saddam already has seven children of his own. With Ibrahim's three children now depending on him as well, he carries the burden of supporting a family of ten. The thought of how long this arrangement can continue often brings Jubaida to tears.
"If my husband managed to swim ashore somewhere, that alone would give me peace. I only want him to be alive," Jubaida said in a trembling voice.
For Akash, another resident of Samiti Para, the tragedy still feels unreal. Harun and Ibrahim were his childhood friends. They grew up together, played together and shared the struggles of life. Now those friends are missing. Akash knows that the chances of them being alive are slim, yet he still struggles to accept it.
According to Akash, the dream of reaching Malaysia is nothing new in the area. For years, many people have attempted the dangerous sea journey. Some have succeeded. They found work in Malaysia and regularly sent money home. For a few families, those remittances transformed their lives. Stories of such success continue to inspire other young men in the community.
"Travelling by sea costs much less. You can make the journey for around 200,000 to 250,000 taka. That's why many people borrow money and take the risk," Akash explained.
A total of six men from Ward No. 1 of Samiti Para boarded the trawler together. Among them were Harun, Hamid, Ibrahim and Jahed. Of the group, only Hamid has been rescued. The others remain missing.
