A Man Named Abid

: Abid, shall I take a picture with you?
: Yes, sir.

It felt wonderful. Today I took a picture with someone truly great. Something to be proud of—Bangladesh has many such great souls.

Abid's father died on January 23, 2021. His younger brother had just entered sixth grade. His mother was a housewife. Abid had started college.

They used to live in Dhaka. Abid's father worked at Prime Bank. After falling ill with kidney disease, the gentleman moved his family to Barisal. To pay for treatment, he had to sell what little land they owned. Still, it wasn't enough to save him. At his death, he left behind only their village homestead, his wife, and two sons. What more can middle-class fathers leave when they die young? There are so many agonies to being middle-class—no peace in living, no peace in dying.

Had the family stayed in the village, perhaps his younger brother's education wouldn't have progressed properly. Abid was then studying HSC first year at Hatem Ali College. He tutored two students, earning four thousand taka. But could such a meager amount cover all expenses? Looking at his mother's and brother's faces, Abid reluctantly began driving a CNG-powered autorickshaw. If he didn't take hold of the family's reins, who would? He was, after all, the eldest son! And becoming the eldest son—is that mere talk?

The entire responsibility of supporting the family rests on Abid's shoulders. His own and his younger brother's education, house rent, food, his mother's medical care—all expenses must be managed by Abid alone. This is how he took his HSC exams and earned a GPA of five. Had he scored just one and a half points higher on the admission test, he could have studied medicine. Now he's studying in BM College, in the Zoology department, first year.

In the mornings, after finishing his studies and some household tasks, Abid takes the auto out. He must hand over six hundred taka to the owner, and earn another six to seven hundred for himself—altogether, if he makes around twelve to thirteen hundred taka, he returns the vehicle and goes home. He must shop for groceries, teach his brother, care for his mother, and tend to his own studies.

When Abid or his younger brother feel broken, their mother tells them to watch Sushanta Paul's videos, to read his writings. After his father's death, Abid had started watching Sushanta Paul's videos to maintain his inner strength. Since then, Abid and his small family have been with Sushanta Paul.

Students of the National University can go far if they choose. They carry within them a certain kind of suffering that many others lack. What fresher gunpowder exists than suffering?

Abid speaks very little; his self-respect and sense of responsibility are evident to the eye. Poverty is truly the greatest university. I was enchanted by something he said: "Sir, whatever happens, happens for good. It's better that I didn't get a chance at Medical or Dhaka University. If I had, I would have had to manage expenses in two places. Would I have had time to drive an auto at all? I couldn't have earned this much money tutoring. So this is better for me."