Tailor

"Tailoring is the only way to spend my time, the only way to overcome my turmoil, my past, my sufferings,” says Shobika, a 22-year-old Rohingya woman living in the refugee camp in Cox❜s Bazar. Shobika sews to escape the past, to escape the memories of the loss of her family, property, home, and homeland. She remembers how she was locked in the house by the Myanmar military ? how her parents were shot, her two brothers-in-law were shot, her sister and her two children killed with a knife in front of her. Shobika was raped and knocked unconscious when she tried to escape. When she came to, everything was burning. She broke through the woven bamboo wall of the house and ran to the west, away from the burning village, the fields on fire, the demise of her family❜s cattle and wealth and everything she had ever known. She took refuge in Bangladesh, where she now lives with her sister❜s family in a small shelter in camp. For a long time, she found no joy or happiness. Only when a journalist gifted her a sewing machine did she begin to find purpose. She knew hand-sewing and skills like crocheting, but had never used a machine before. With a neighbour❜s help, she quickly learned. Now, in her bamboo and tarp shelter, Shobika keeps busy making traditional clothing for the camp community. She can make almost anything, from crocheted teikka (skullcaps) to wedding dresses to orna (scarves) and men❜s suits. Orders increase during festivals like Eid. Her dream is to open a tailoring shop of her own; she says she doesn❜t want to be a burden to her sister and brother-in-law. She fears that she will never be able to marry, and thus must fend for life on her own. Shobika is not alone, however. She knows other Rohingya girls who were sexually and physically assaulted by the Myanmar military. They are stigmatized by the conservative Rohingya community and so, together, they forge a sisterhood and care for each other. “They cannot accept us,” she says. “So we look out for each other.” In a society where girls are often married off in their early teens, Shobika is still unmarried at age 22. Sometimes, the families of prospective grooms come to see her, but they always demand too much dowry ? as much as 70,000 taka ($833 USD). “I want to get married. I want to be a mother. I feel jealous when I see a mother cuddles their baby. But who will marry me?” she says.