“We were looking at the plate of rice”: 2 Bangladeshis recount harrowing experience in Libyan detention camp

“We were just looking at the plate of rice, bhai, instead of eating. Just seeing rice on the plane was enough to fill our stomachs.” This is how Mashiur Rahman described receiving a meal of rice on the flight back to Bangladesh from Libya after 45 long days.

He landed at Hazrat Shahjalal International Airport in Dhaka on a special Buraq Air flight from the Tajoura detention centre in Tripoli at 10:00 am on Tuesday. Having endured a protracted period of captivity, he and 174 other Bangladeshi nationals returned home with the assistance of the International Organization for Migration (IOM).

Mashiur Rahman and Sohel Mia sat side by side on an Ajmeri Glory bus heading towards Gulistan from outside the airport. Both were dressed in navy-blue tracksuits. To an onlooker, they might have appeared to be returning from a workout or a sporting event; however, the blue bags provided by the IOM told a vastly different story.

On Tuesday, Prothom Alo’s correspondent spoke with them on their journey from the airport to Gulistan.

Mashiur Rahman, 38, is from South Dudhkhali village in the Kalikapur Union of Madaripur Sadar Upazila. Back home, he owned an eatery where he worked as a skilled artisan, crafting parathas and singaras; business was thriving.

However, with his younger brother having been in Italy for five years, Mashiur felt a fierce longing to head to Europe to alter his own fortunes. Although his family and brother strongly disapproved of this perilous undertaking, Mashiur eventually set off for Libya against everyone's advice.

Mashiur’s journey spanned a harrowing nine months. Departing Bangladesh in December of last year, his first transit was a 12-hour layover in Malaysia, followed by two days in Sri Lanka, a 2-hour transit in Kuwait, and finally an arrival in Egypt.

After spending five months in Egypt, human traffickers transported him to Al-Khums, a city on the Mediterranean coast in north-western Libya. There, he was held in a so-called “game house” for nearly three months.

Over various stages, he had to pay Tk 3.2 million to the brokers, handing the money over to the traffickers’ local agents in Bangladesh. Threats of detention or beatings in Libya were delivered over sudden phone calls; fearing for his safety, Mashiur’s family was forced to borrow this massive sum from relatives at exorbitant interest rates to pay off the brokers.

Finally, three months ago, the sea crossing—known locally as the “game”—commenced from Khums, carrying 30 Bangladeshis and four Egyptians on a wooden boat. Just half an hour into the voyage, the boat was intercepted by the Libyan military. They were taken to the Tajoura Detention Centre in Tripoli, where Mashiur was held captive for 45 days.

Mashiur shudders when remembering those days at Tajoura. A room designed for a maximum of 200 people was crammed with 500 detainees. The Nigerian guards in charge subjected them to inhumane abuse. Even over minor misunderstandings due to the language barrier, beatings were a daily occurrence.

Recalling those painful memories, Mashiur said, “They held long pipes in their hands. Without a word of explanation, they would just start beating us ruthlessly.”

The worst suffering in the detention camp was the lack of food. Mashiur did not see a single grain of rice in 45 days. Breakfast at 10:00 am consisted of a single piece of khubz (a thick flatbread). At 3:00 PM, lunch was served: a single medium-sized bowl of pasta shared among seven men. That same meal cooked for lunch was served again for dinner.

Mashiur swallowed the food with his eyes closed, his tears dripping into the shared bowl. “There was no alternative but to force that food down,” Mashiur reflected, “No one’s stomach was ever full, bhai. Someone would always break down in tears during mealtime, while the rest of us tried to comfort them.”

However, the shortage of clean drinking water was the hardest part; they had to survive by drinking salty tap water.

Finally, on 23 August, the IOM confirmed Mashiur’s return home. On Monday, 31 August, at around 2:00 pm local time in Libya, he boarded the flight, landing in Dhaka on Tuesday morning.

Thirty-six-year-old Sohel’s home is in Tekerhat, under the Rajoir Upazila of Madaripur. In Bangladesh, he used to drive an auto-rickshaw. As most young men from his village crossed the sea to reach Italy, Greece, and Malta, Sohel dreamed of saving some money to cross the Mediterranean in search of a better life.

Sohel left home 14 months ago. Much like Mashiur, he travelled from Bangladesh through Malaysia, Sri Lanka, Kuwait, and Egypt before reaching Libya. To reach Italy, Sohel spent Tk 3.9 million in stages, paying the traffickers Tk 1.7 million initially and another Tk 1.2 million later.

To raise this money, his family was forced to sell their ancestral property. When that still bore no fruit, as a final attempt, he tried to arrange an independent “game” by paying an additional Tk 1 million to another broker named Suman.

Barely an hour to an hour and a half after setting sail from Khums on a fibreglass boat, Sohel and his companions were caught by the military. Subsequently, attempts were made to sell them off to other human-trafficking syndicates.

Securing release from those brokers would have required another Tk 1 to 1.2 million. Consequently, they pleaded with the soldiers to transfer them to Tajoura rather than sell them off, knowing that the IOM had access to the Tajoura Detention Centre, offering a potential avenue to return home. Sohel spent 48 days there before finally returning to Bangladesh.

Sohel’s experience with the food was identical to Mashiur’s, but he found the oppressive heat even harder to bear. The few fans available were woefully inadequate for the crowd, creating a suffocating environment inside the room.

In the detention camp, Sohel spent one of the most bleak Eid ul-Azha celebrations of his life. There was no joy on Eid day; like every other day, it was spent eating pasta.

Sohel claims he will never be able to forget that day. “Was that really an Eid day?” he asked. “I cried all day and prayed to the Almighty, “O Lord, do not take my life before I get to see my homeland again.”’

Upon returning home, the Criminal Investigation Department (CID) of the police interviewed them and provided contact numbers for legal aid to help take action against the traffickers. The IOM also assured them that they would remain in regular contact for any assistance needed.

However, Sohel refuses to entertain the thought of going abroad ever again under any circumstances. He stated, “The IOM mentioned we would receive a financial grant. If I can arrange an auto-rickshaw here in Bangladesh, I will work hard to clear my debts. I no longer wish to go abroad. I will manage with my family through tough times, but I will never speak of going abroad again.”

While Mashiur’s grueling Libyan ordeal has come to an end, landing home brings a fresh burden: a massive debt taken on by high interest rates. For now, he wants to return to his village, leaving the rest in the hands of the Almighty.

Finally, Mashiur was asked whether he would attempt this journey again or perhaps try another route to another country. With a smile, Mashiur replied, “Once the craze for Italy gets into someone’s head, brother, does it ever really leave?”

In pursuit of a better life and livelihood, many Bangladeshis embark on illegal routes abroad despite knowing the immense risks. For a large proportion, the ultimate target is Italy in Europe. Facilitated by brokers, they attempt to reach Italy via Libya by braving the treacherous sea route across the Mediterranean.

While some reach their destination, many perish at sea. Yet, the desperate quest for this golden prize remains unabated. Why does this dangerous journey persist, even when the tragic stories of lost lives and dire peril among acquaintances are well known?

Mashiur explained, “It is a trap. Seeing someone else go to Italy and earn a salary in the hundreds of thousands makes people lose their heads. It is only after setting off that one realises how painful this path is. My younger brother warned me not to go, but I didn't understand it then. Now that I have lost everything, I finally realise.”

Meanwhile, the bus pulled into Gulistan. Stepping off, the two men began walking hurriedly towards the bus stand bound for Madaripur, eager to get home. When asked for permission to take a few more photographs, Sohel pleaded, “Bhai, we intend to go back and confront the broker. If you publish our photos now, he will say, ‘You’ve spoken to the media, so what money are you talking about?’ If we can recover even a portion of the money from the broker, it will help us survive a bit. Please keep us in your prayers, and ask the people of our country to pray for us. May no one else make this mistake or fall into this trap.”