In search of the 6 Rakhine families of Chhayanipara

When I visited in 2017, Gongshe Matbor of Chhayanipara was still alive. Chhayanipara is a small, ancient Rakhine village in Tiakhali union of Kalapara, Patuakhali. In the Rakhine language, the village was named Khraoradan. ‘Khra’ means six, ‘ra’ means hundred. Because the land there was priced Tk 600, it was named ‘Khraoradan Rowra’, which later became Chhayanipara.

Around 1760, Pruwan and Poum Matbor founded the village. At their time, 65 Rakhine families lived in the neighborhood. When I visited in March 2017, only 10 families remained.

No one in the neighborhood was in good spirits. Under the pressure of eviction threats, frustration and uncertainty due to the land acquisition for the Payra Port, the entire village seemed crushed.

In 2019, several government surveyors suddenly entered Chhayanipara without prior notice, took photos and videos and began measuring the land. Before leaving, they said Chhayanipara's land would be acquired for the port and that villagers would be informed in time. The villagers had appealed to the government through the District Commissioner to save their village.

Even in 2017, the declining condition of Rakhine villages had been striking. Nine years later, when I returned last June, I found that the ancient village had been ruthlessly erased. The displaced Rakhine families had still not received permanent resettlement.

After Gongshe Matbor passed away, everyone had to leave Chhayanipara in November 2021, during the Covid-19 pandemic and on a particularly cold winter day.

They moved to another Rakhine settlement in Baliatali Union, about 25 kilometres away. Their chickens, ducks, cows and goats had already been sold. Lachhimong walked to Nayapara with the settlement’s last five cows.

In 2021, the government paid Tk 9.6 million to six Rakhine families as compensation for houses, infrastructure, solar power systems, ponds, farmed fish and trees under Section 8 of the Acquisition and Requisition of Immovable Property Act, 2017.

No documents relating to the land acquisition could be found with either the Chhayanipara residents or the government. Displaced resident Chingdamo Rakhine said that until permanent rehabilitation, the administration was supposed to provide Tk 5,000 per month as house rent to the six families. The payments stopped after six months.

The land that Payra Port purchased from the Chhouthen Talukdars of Nayapara for the permanent housing of the evicted families is a waterlogged agricultural land. The displaced people have heard that each family will receive approximately 2.5 kodas of land (1 koda = approx. 3 decimals). When I visited in June, although some soil had been raised on the land, the environment was not fit for building houses.

In the evicted Chingdamo family there are five members, in Lachhiong's family two, in Mongcho's family two, in Neshai Mong's family four and in Yangsi's family, there are six members. Lachimong and Chingdau are elderly siblings.

But not all of the displaced families could be found in Nayapara. The two siblings, Lachimong and Chingdau, have found shelter in an old house there. Everyone is struggling to survive in Nayapara. They have to walk a long way to fetch drinking water. They have no land for cultivation and must buy everything they eat.

Chingdamo’s and Neshai Mong’s families live in rented houses in Kalapara.

After being evicted from Chhayanipara, Neshai Mong died last December in Roowa Shye Para (New Para), in Kalapara. He was cremated at the settlement’s cremation ground, which has now become a garbage damp.

Gongshe Matbor, Lutphru Matbor, Frumaowu, Mongchingda, Chilau, Mui Maing, Chanda Pru and Chieu are buried in the cremation ground at Chhayanipara.

In Rakhine society, it is customary to honor the memories of deceased persons during Sangrengpowai on Chaitra Sankranti, Woz-a on Ashwin Purnima, or Waso on Srabon Purnima. But the port authority did not leave any trace of the village, including the crematorium and graves. As a result, there remains no way to honor the dead according to Rakhine customs.

Rakhine people ring a large bell called a tukhang at temples. During prayers at home, however, they use a brass bell called a chanje. It is played with a wooden stick known as a tiosa.

Rakhine people believe that when the chanje is rung, the spirits of the dead, including those of humans and other living beings, awaken and become alert, saying, “Sa-dhu, sa-dhu.”

Chingdamo has still not been able to play the chanje in the rented house where she now lives. In fact, she has not been able to hold the chanje since leaving Chhayanipara.

She has also faced difficulties performing traditional rituals and prayers because many of the flowers and leaves required for them are unavailable in the new area.

The bells of development will ring across the vast Payra Port, but the sound of the “fragile” chanje of one Rakhine settlement will gradually fade away. Amid the “stronger” sound of the port’s bells, perhaps Bangladesh will say, “Sa-dhu, sa-dhu.”

Beside a canal in Chhayanipara stood a sacred archaeological site of the Rakhine community known as a “Choyensaba” in their language.

The three century old sacred site had four ancient choyangba or karanja trees and 10 jablongba or date palm trees. When I visited last June, I found that the entire sacred site, including the ancient trees, had been destroyed.

The port authorities could have preserved this small Choyensaba along with its ancient trees. Under the Wildlife (Conservation and Security) Act, 2026 and Article 18A of the Constitution, protecting such ancient heritage trees and groves is a responsibility of the state.

The port authority politely guided me around the entire area. But nothing clear was known about the acquisition and permanent settlement. How the housing construction and land handover process for the Rakhine people in Noyapara will proceed, who knows. The port was built despite knowing that the Rabanabad Channel of the Payra River is extremely silt-prone. Now, a huge budget is also needed for dredging to keep the port operational. Many unanswered questions lie sleeping beneath the soil of Chhayanipara.

I found Uyenue, the wife of displaced Neshai Mong in Kalapara. As I was leaving their rented home, I noticed several seeds tied to the bamboo wall.

They were seeds of the reddish, sour-leaved Saibongchi fruit. Rakhine people use it to prepare a soup called He-re-chao.

Uyenue said the seeds had been passed down from the time of her great-grandmother-in-law’s mother. Her mother-in-law had given them to her to preserve the family lineage.

These seeds are a record of her family’s history.

She managed to bring only a handful of them from Chhayanipara.

I asked Uyenue where she would plant the seeds next.

She looked away.

I do not know. Perhaps the genetic memory of thousands of Saibongchi plants carries the marks of oppression and silence left behind amid much development.