Migrants Endure Brutal Trips to Leave Bangladesh

By PARVEEN AHMED / AP WRITER

TEKNAF, Bangladesh — When night falls, the man told him, head for the boats.

The trip would be easy, he said. Four days on a ship to Thailand, then a short trek through forested hills to Malaysia. Then, he said, you're in the money.

Instead, Mohammed Sharif found himself captive in the boat's hold with nearly 100 others, eating only rice and water while the crew threatened beatings and the boat drifted for weeks in the sun, lost at sea.

The 26-year-old taxi driver had fallen prey to a network of human traffickers that has emerged in Bangladesh's coastal communities to serve a growing pool of customers willing to risk their lives to reach wealthier shores.

The fate of migrants on the illegal route from Bangladesh to Thailand has sparked international outrage. Allegations surfaced last month that Thailand forced nearly 1,000 migrants back to sea in boats with no engines and only a few bags of rice. Hundreds drowned.

Many of the migrants leaving Bangladesh are Rohingyas, members of a stateless Muslim ethnic group that originally fled from Burma to escape persecution. Hundreds of thousands of Rohingyas live in Bangladesh.

Thai authorities caught 1,025 Rohingya migrants in 2006, 2,700 in 2007 and then nearly 5,000 last year, according to the Bangkok-based Arakan Project, which advocates on behalf of the Rohingyas. Most of those were believed to have been headed for Malaysia.

Thai military officials have repeatedly denied they forced migrants out to sea, insisting they only detain and then repatriate them. But Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva has said authorities are investigating the charges.

Indian authorities rescued more than 300 migrants in late December and early January and are holding them in the Andaman Islands. Indonesian authorities are holding roughly 200 migrants who washed up on Sabang Island.

Sharif, who made his trip last May, aimed to travel the well-worn route to Thailand and then to Malaysia, which depends on migrants for everything from maids to construction workers.

He was one of roughly 95 men who paddled wooden boats in the dark from Teknaf, a popular launching point for the dangerous journeys, toward the large fishing trawler headed for Thailand. He had borrowed money from relatives to pay the agent about 20,000 taka ($300) upfront for a seat on board. The remaining 50,000 taka ($740) was to be paid later.

"He said I could earn as much as 2,000 Ringgits ($554) monthly as a driver," says Sharif. That's five times more than he earned to support three young children, a widowed mother and three younger siblings.

The agent, whose name was Abdur Rahim but went by "Lokkhu," showed no papers and said there was no need for a passport, according to Sharif.

"I trusted him. There was no reason to doubt him," Sharif says. "I didn't ask to see any papers. I cannot read, so what's the use?"

When the sun rose that first morning, the ship was already headed south. The crew ordered the men to pack into the small hold below deck and not come out. They were given dried rice and water for their only meal of the day.

Only after dark were they allowed up on deck to stretch and shower. If they tried to come out during the day, they were beaten with sticks. The traffickers said that if they were seen, they would be caught by naval patrols.

After a few days, the boat's engine went out, leaving it drifting in the sun.

"When we started to ask questions, they threatened to throw us into the sea," Sharif says.

Three men fell sick with diarrhea and died. The crew threw their bodies overboard without ceremony.

They drifted for roughly four weeks until a naval patrol ship approached the boat and authorities arrested everyone onboard. The trawler was towed to Thailand where they were held in prison in conditions far better than those on the boat, Sharif says.

Two weeks later, dozens of Rohingyas and Bangladeshis, including Sharif, were taken out of jail and put on a small boat without any food and told to "go home," he said.

The boat reached the Burma coast, where authorities re-arrested them and held them in far worse conditions.

"We were given some rice every three or four days, and the guards beat us if we tried to ask something," Sharif says.

The Bangladeshis were told to raise 80,000 taka ($1,185) for their release. Sharif never learned what happened to the Rohingyas, who were detained separately. Rohingyas are an especially difficult case: Burma does not recognize them as citizens, and Bangladesh often won't take them back because they live there illegally.

It took a month, but Sharif's relatives sold land and took out loans to scrape together the money. Sharif and the others were flown from Yangon to Dhaka, the Bangladeshi capital.

Hundreds of miles from home, Sharif begged from strangers until he had enough money to go back to Teknaf.

There, Sharif searched for Lokkhu, but he had disappeared. Local police say he's linked to several cases of vandalism and extortion.

Sharif, like many victims, was reluctant to go to the authorities for fear of reprisals by the traffickers. He only agreed to talk to The Associated Press away from his village, sitting in a van on the edge of the Naf River amid overturned boats and drying nets. The van driver translated for Sharif, who spoke in a local dialogue similar to a Burma language spoken across the border.

Bangladesh border and coast guards are well aware of the trafficking routes and have stepped up patrols after recent reports of Bangladeshis dying and getting caught in Thailand and India, said Mohammad Jasimuddin, a police official at Teknaf. In October, police rescued a group of Bangladeshis who were left stranded at a beach in southern Bangladesh after being told they were in Malaysia.

Today, Sharif is back at work, driving fishermen, villagers and cargo in his rickety taxi along the coast. He owes 100,000 taka ($1,500) to his relatives and figures it will take about eight years to pay them back.

"I am hoping they will forgive me and write off the debt," says Sharif quietly, almost no expression on his sun-burnt face. "I have suffered a lot, that's all."