Journalist, artist, photographer, Harvard Nieman Fellow 2016, author of MAIDAN - Portraits from the Black Square.
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Getting back my edited 6x6 film scans from Bangladesh - Hasina is a Tu Lar To Li massacre survivor. Kutupalong Rohingya refugee camp, Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh.I spent a month in Bangladesh photographing the Rohingya refugee crisis for @humanrightswatch in Sept/Oct and am editing the last selected images from the shoot.
Here is Hasina's story:
Hasina is a soft-spoken 20-year-old Rohingya woman from Rakhine State in Burma. She asked us to use her picture and tell her story so the world knows what is happening there.
Her village, Tula Toli, was attacked in late Augustby the Burmese army on a rampage of killing and arson after Rohingya militants carried out coordinated strikes on police posts. The villagers ran when the soldiers came, but some were trapped on a river bank. Dozens, Hasina said, were murdered on the beach in front of her eyes, but the nightmare was only beginning.
The army forced Hasina and many other women to stand waist-deep in water and watch while soldiers dug a pit to burn the bodies of those they had killed. She tried to hide her infant daughter under her shawl, but a soldier noticed the baby, snatched her away and tossed her into the fire.
Hours later the soldiers took Hasina, her mother-in-law, sister-in-law and three other relatives, all children, to a nearby house. The soldiers tried to rape the women, knifing the mother-in-law to death when she resisted and beating Hasina and her sister-in-law unconscious. They beat the young children to death with spades.
When Hasina regained consciousness, she found herself inside the house. It was on fire, and she had been left locked inside by the soldiers. Her sister-in-law was alive, too. They managed to escape the flames, but with serious burns. Badly injured, they somehow made their way to Bangladesh. Both still have burn injuries. Hasina’s sister-in-law, who confirmed this horrible incident, showed us a big gash on the back of her head from when she had been beaten unconscious, and that a doctor had stitched.
Hasina insisted we take her picture and show her face to the world. For her, it is a brave act of defiance to those who sought to eliminate her and her family.
Investigation by Peter N. Bou
Finally getting back my edited 6x6 film scans from Bangladesh - Asthma Begum is 18 and a Tu Lar To Li massacre survivor. Kutupalong Rohingya refugee camp, Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh.
I spent a month in Bangladesh photographing the Rohingya refugee crisis for @humanrightswatch in Sept/Oct and am editing the last selected images from the shoot. #filmisnotdead #hasselblad
This photographic Aladdin’s cave is Graham Playford’s workshop. He’s been repairing my Bronicas and Hasselblads for years. When I dropped by today, with 2 broken cameras, he told me he’ll be closing up shop at the end of the year. He just can’t get the spare parts. I literally left in tears. #maybefilmisdying #theworldlooksbettersquare #photohero
This is the wonderfully talented Alice Aedy @aliceaedy at her first-ever exhibition opening tonight at Mother London where her portraits are included in the group show “The Great Women Artists- Women on Instagram” So grateful to have Alice working with me once a week- filling my flat with enthusiasm, inspiration and new perspectives #thefutureofphotography #rememberhername #onestowatch
Dad's poetry book, bought in Fiji on his travels in the 60's, contains all the favourite stories of my childhood. It is filled with his notes and improvised book marks - here is one made from an old bank statement dated May 2014 that highlights Crossing the Bar by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.
I thought this poem was boring when i was a kid - and I didn't realise it was about death. *** Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.