STAR DIARY | The Daily Star
12:00 AM, September 30, 2016 / LAST MODIFIED: 12:00 AM, September 30, 2016

STAR DIARY

Bitter Reality Of Poverty

As I was returning home, I got sad to see a special child, sitting on a wheel chair while a woman was pushing the wheelchair, and asking for alms. I was curious about the life of that child, so I enquired her that why she was not admitted to a school specialised for such children. Eventually I came to know that the woman who claimed to be her mother to the people, for sympathy, was not blood related to the child. Rather, she paid money to her parents, so that the woman could hire the special child for begging and earning. The woman also told me that every three months the child would receive government allowance of Tk 900, which is not enough. The child is denied proper medical treatment; she is not given a proper diet- as they want the girl's health to deteriorate further so that her parents could earn more. Later on, I met some other street children who shared the sad stories of their exploitation by their ''agents''. All of these children are exploited and are denied the basic rights of a citizen such as education, shelter, proper clothing, and food. I was hurt to know what I heard and witnessed and at the end of the day I realised how lucky we are to have good health and good lives.

Esaba Ahnaf

Maple Leaf International School, Dhaka


You have my book?

Whenever I lend a friend a book, I never get it back. I lent some books to a friend lately. When I finally got them back, to my surprise I found them badly marked. One came back covered in spices. I did not get two, because she told me, “they are somewhere. I am sure I will find them.” Later I discovered one of my other friends reading this book of mine that I lent to someone else. Without my permission, my books had been moving among her friend circle, her family and extended family. It makes my blood boil when people don't respect the fact that I lend people books because I want them to return those books. My friends have started calling me “kipta”, a miser, and they make me feel petty for asking for a book every time I see them. But I don't mind. Those are my books and I might want to read them again. Or just keep them with me forever. I don't mind people borrowing them, but please, make sure you return them.

Shahida Hassan 

Chittagong

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