Bangladesh
The Urdu-speaking minority fights for rights in a country that sees them as foreigners.
By Fabeha Monir, Reporting Fellow
DHAKA, BANGLADESH — The house in the Geneva Camp where Md. Emon, now 18, was born is barely big enough to hold a bed. His family of seven lives there. In some cases, rooms like this host up to three generations, with narrow passageways separating dwellings.
This is life for Emon and most Biharis, the Urdu-speaking people who migrated from the northeast Indian state of Bihar in the 1940s to what was then East Pakistan – now Bangladesh. Today, most live in 116 camps across the country. Geneva Camp, in central Dhaka, the largest of the camps, is home to between 30,000 and 50,000 Biharis.
Emom’s education ended at 10th grade. Young people from Geneva Camp don’t easily gain admission to upper schools and universities.
“I stopped trying,” he says.
Emon runs a box-sized clothing store. Most of his friends live in Geneva Camp.
It’s been nearly two decades since the Bangladesh High Court recognized the Biharis’ right to citizenship, which included the right to vote. It was a landmark decision, but Biharis say they don’t have access to documents or essential services.
The government didn’t keep its promises, says M. Shoukat Ali, president of the Stranded People’s General Rehabilitation Committee and head teacher at Non-Local Junior High School in the camp.
In their Geneva Camp homes in Dhaka, Jony, 24, and Monowar, 25, spend time with their families. Jony, who repairs motorbikes at a nearby garage, hopes his younger brother can continue his education. Monowar, newly married, lives in a small house with three generations of family members. “We are Bangladeshis, but we’re treated like outsiders,” Monowar says.
Incremental improvements are afoot, though Biharis doubt they’ll make a difference. In early May, advocate Abdullah Al Noman issued a legal notice to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs seeking the immediate cessation of the use of the term “stranded Pakistanis” to describe Biharis. The term is inaccurate and a violation of the constitutionally guaranteed fundamental rights of equality and nondiscrimination, Noman says.
But even Biharis who vote say they’re disenfranchised. Md. Sajjad, 22, who voted in the last election, says politicians make lots of promises leading up to election day. Biharis are told that they’ll get schools and government jobs.
“Nothing happens,” he says.
Sajjad dropped out and started working at about 11 years old. The water pipe in front of his small electrical shop is 17 years old and has never been maintained. It leaks, he says. Now, he expects little from the government.
“As always,” he says, “we are not welcomed anywhere.”
Editorial Team
Reporter:
Editor:
Fact-Checker:
Copy Editor:
Photo Editor:
Fabeha Monir is a Shifting Democracies Fellow at Global Press Journal, based in Dhaka, Bangladesh. She is renowned for her compelling storytelling that intertwines photography, film, and investigative reporting. Her work delves into pressing issues such as gender-based violence, labor rights, climate change, and forced migration, amplifying the experiences of people in communities across South Asia.
Her work has been featured in prominent news outlets, including The New York Times, Bloomberg News, The Wall Street Journal, and The Washington Post.
In 2024, Monir co-directed the short documentary The Taste of Honey, which garnered the Best Short Film Award at the Terni Film Festival in Italy and was officially selected for the Africa International Human Rights Film Festival. The film explores the lives of honey collectors in the Sundarbans, highlighting the intersection of environmental degradation and human rights.
Through her multifaceted storytelling, Fabeha continues to challenge narratives and provoke dialogue.
