Sahera Banu: A life spent on CRO Bihari camp’s staircase

Sahera Banu, an elderly Urdu-speaking woman, has been living on the staircase of the CRO Bihari camp in Mohammadpur for decades. 

She was offered a room of her own, even the chance to move to Pakistan where her daughter has migrated to, but Sahera chose instead to spend the rest of her life in the narrow space on the camp's staircase. 

"I am very well here," said Sahera, sitting in the shack on the staircase of the top floor. "I will not go anywhere from here as long as I live."

Nargis, a young Urdu-speaking woman born and raised in the CRO camp, said Sahera, whom they refer to as 'Broccoli Khala', has been living like this for as long as she can remember, and is like a family member to everyone in the camp at Town Hall area of Mohammadpur.

Why do they call her 'Broccoli Khala'? Nargis said it is a nickname they use affectionately, but could not quite recall how or when the name first stuck.

Sahera lost her husband during the Liberation War of Bangladesh, and since then, she had taken shelter in the CRO camp with her son and daughter.

"After my husband died, I survived by doing all sorts of work — working in people's homes, begging, cleaning," Sahera said, recalling how she raised her children.

Both her son and daughter married decades ago; her son then migrated to India, where he later passed away, and her daughter moved to Pakistan with her family.

"Everyone asks me why I don't go to my daughter's, but I have my daughters and granddaughters here. All these people are like my children," she said. "They feed me, they offer me tea."

Sahera Banu lived with her parents in the Alambazar area of Kolkata until the Hindu-Muslim riots broke out in the 1960s.

She cannot remember the exact year — perhaps it was 1964 — but recalls that both her father and brother were attacked by Hindu rioters. It was also their Hindu family friends who stepped in to shield them and saved their lives.

"They said, 'These are like our family members — don't harm them,'" Sahera recalled.

Even so, the family fled India to save their lives and eventually settled in Bangladesh [then East Pakistan]. 

Nargis said there are 45 families in the CRO camp.

"We're in a far better state than the Geneva camp; we all live here like a family. We don't have drug dealing or crime here. Sure, we quarrel and fight, but we live in close harmony. We are all professionals — my father's a driver, I am a beautician, and some work as salesmen," she said.

"She [Sahera] talks to everyone, watches television, spends time with us like one of the family," Nargis added.

The Urdu-speaking people in the camp have long lived in overcrowded conditions with minimal amenities. Though they have had citizenship since 2008, they are still labeled as stranded Pakistanis, and this community is not given the dignity it deserves.

Sahera does not know much about her rights, but she is content with little.

"I came here young, and now I am old. What would I do with a home? I am an old, lonely woman. I won't go anywhere. I'll die here and be buried here," Sahera said.