About Hori
Edu.
About Hori
An opportunity to study at the Dept. of Communication and Journalism, University of Chittagong was to fall love in people. Being failure to pen for the mass under the corporate media, I shift my focus in covering street-journalism which was my pretty hobby.
Here are some of my journalistic work. Each word under the black background represents a title which I covered passionately.
self-criticism
Good Work, You Should not Miss! read more...
A story of streethelp will impact you! read here...
The story tells how I am actually toward when I meet a problem of somebody read more...
The writer on the right side of a real hero who is selling bags for his sustenance in Covid-19
I was shopping at New Market, Chattogram. I bought a pant, a sunglass and some others. To put the stuffs, I needed a bag anyhow. I found a boy hawking bags for sale. I asked him price of the bag I wanted to buy. He demanded 15 takas. A black-shadow popped up on his face whilst I bargained. At once, I glanced over his appearance. I recognized him a student without any pre-meet.
However, I gave his demand. I shook my lags on the way of my home. After my few steps, I was thinking, “I ought to listen why he is there hawking few dozens of bags on his both hands.”. So, I moved back. I began to search him left and right, back and forth as well.
Suddenly I found him selling a bag to a customer on the street. I was highly curious to know him. So, I requested him to interview even though he was unwilling to disclose himself but I gave him confidence and encouraged him and told to trust me. The rest of the conversation was as follow:
Me: Why are you doing this?
Hasib: Let’s see, my father is an open-heart patient who can’t lift even a two kilo of rice. My mother has lost tuitions and so am I. I would get 2,500 takas from the tuitions but they are no more because of global pandemic, Covid-19.
Me: why don’t you pick the other options, Hasib?
Hasib: I want to keep on my study, brother. Before getting into this, I asked my mom what I should do. My mom suggested me, “my son, as you have no money, you can neither kick a business nor earn a good salary. You may do something part-time, so you can keep your study on, as well as back up your family.” So, I can’t but pick up this option.
Me: How was your first-day earning?
Hasib: I felt truly myself shy on the 1st day. I was trying to sell the bags in-hide. That day I earned only 65 takas. From then to now, my shyness begins to light. So, the 2nd and the 3rd days I earn 78 and 715 takas.
Me: How long you want to continue on this way?
Hasib: Maybe, until I ensure a few tuitions or a part-time work.
At the end of talks, he let me know that he doesn’t prefer to spend a single coin for either transportation or having some foods. The reason is: his personal cost will reduce his family support.
Introduction: Hasib is doing his honors in Economics under the Chittagong College, but now he is a student of 1st year there.
"A place at a 15-kilometer distance. I board a local bus. Many students and locals, like me, also get on the mini-bus. Our destination is the campus of the University of Chittagong. The bus assistant asks for Tk. 25 as fare. I am completely astonished because the usual transportation fare is Tk. 15. This means he is demanding an extra Tk. 10. I decide that I will not pay him more than Tk. 20. At the same time, a girl tries to pay him Tk. 15, but he rejects it, insisting on an extra Tk. 10. She intends to pay him Tk. 20, but the assistant continues to demand the extra money. Witnessing this injustice, I can no longer stay silent. I raise my voice, expressing my anger, and request the girl not to give him even a coin. Another student beside me is also furious with the man. Finally, the bus reaches its destination. And finally, we all get down. No quarrelsome physically.
July 17, 2023
Comment: 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐩 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐢𝐭. 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝…, 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫! 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐥𝐲, 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲!
A community train for the University of Chittagong students. The train known as ‘Shuttle’. I got into an apartment on the Shuttle, looking for a seat, and so did a girl. All the seats were all but booked. The girl asked a student on her right side, “Who grabbed the seat, putting a bag of potatoes?" The boy who sat there answered that he didn’t know.
At once, a boy came here quickly, and let the seat go to his dear one, keeping aside the bag of potatoes. The girl, turning to her left, found another student sitting and a bag lying. So, she asked gently to the boy. The boy kept the bag of another.
A seat in the Shuttle looks like a bench where two students can comfortably sit, but three may also sit on a bench. The boy who grabbed one seat using a bag of potatoes questioned the girl, “That's my bag! Whose bag means?”. Shocked! The girl was completely shocked upon receiving a hard-hitting question that she didn’t ever expect. She didn’t sound a word; perhaps she thought him a political personality.
Again, the boy let his another familiar girl have the seat. However, a friend of the boy made a space for the girl. I was furious as I found the girl being insulted badly because all the students, back and forth and left and right, had watched the incident, but nobody could dare to speak a word against the boy for his rudeness. I kept my boiling blood calm for a while. And I thought, it’s unwise to spread anger over an angry man.
The Shuttle crossed walking a few kilometers. I asked the boy of which Hall he is a resident. Hall is actually an authorized resident for students. He didn’t live in any Halls he informed me. I asked him then about his session and subject. He told me, “2017–18 academic year, Economics.” As I was his senior, I raised a question: “Was it good what and how you behaved with the girl?” He denied that he didn’t question her rudely. I said, “Look, all the students here have watched.”
At one point, the victim girl broke out of her silence and strongly argued that the way he behaved was hard. From another side, a friend of the boy tried to calm me down. So, I said "Sorry” to the victim girl in favor of the boy, who showed his good behavior that hurt the girl.
Our post-graduation ceremony came to approach. I mean our five years plus ties to our beloved academic department came to end when the dutiful teachers (professors) arranged a homelike farewell amid the global pandemic COVID-19 which hit Bangladesh at the beginning of 2022. The mentors did their best overall. So, whatever!
During the event, the important figures among professors noted their precise speech. Some were following, some were emotional. We, all the students, academicians, and officials were present in the event room, sat on the wooden benches in three columns.
I noticed a teacher from my left was sitting and the keynote discussions were going to be closed but I was eagerly waiting for the teacher to speak something for the students. No signs I found!!
In no delay, I raised my hands. I was called to speak on the Dais (an upper surface of speaking). I was shivering in fear, I don’t know why. I spoke the following words, “We, all the students are waiting to listen to his speech. Sir, I want to hear something from him.!”
Sir stood up, came to the Dais like a soldier, and spoke his rigorous speech that touched my heart. A line from his speech was “Ask yourself what you wanna (want to) be…!” Just a single line fired me to rethink my goal. Then, what happened?
The event was closed. I was getting ready to leave. Sir ordered someone instantly to call me back. I backed him. He came to me, stood on my right side, and ordered someone to take a shot. I was fully astonished. My eyes were full of water thinking of ‘This is the teacher worth of global honor and dignity, and this’s the teacher who can conquer (steal) one’s heart”
I talked about the teacher. He's our sir, known as Cute Zakaria, formally Muhammad Zakaria, an associate professor, the dept. of Communication and Journalism, University of Chittagong. He’s going to fly to the USA for his honor Ph.D., probably this year!
Miss you sir…!!
Aug. 2, 2022
at the University of Chittagong