A Poor Boy Flies to Dubai

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1987 August 04, the day I was born, the happiest day in the family, I can genuinely say. I have my loving Grandparents and my parents too. Everything was normal—happiness and excitement of the birth of a new baby boy filled the air in the family.

My grandpa’s job was bus driver, but he was a cook in our home. While cooking, his nose was constantly running, my grandmother told me.

When I was 2, my mom and dad had fought then my dad went to jail for a few days for beating my mom.

After that incident, my dad didn’t come home to see us. A few months later, my grandparents also left the house, leaving my mom and me alone to live and survive in the place. Two of us were living in that house.

My mom worked in the field and did not have enough time to look after me. I cried a lot because of hunger, thirst and many other reasons like pooping, peeing, and being alone.

One day our immediate neighbor went to my grandparents’ place to tell about what I was suffering from. My grandfather came over to take me with him. The old couple was surviving by running a small convenience store where I could have enough food.

Everything was going normal. One day, I got the news that my mom got married to another man and that my dad also married another woman. It was okay for me because it would not affect me. After all, I am staying with my grandparents.

When I was 8, and in grade three, we lost grandfather. His last words were, “Never leave your grandmother.”

After grandpa passed away, we struggled to run the store because my old grandmother couldn’t handle the affairs as much as my grandfather did even though we were surviving okay.

When I was 13, I went to my dad’s house and lived with his family. Living there, I came to know the real sense of all the pains of hunger, torture, hatred, discrimination, abuse and many more, all at the same time because of my dad’s wife.

I had to look after my minor brothers and wash all my clothes and dishes for the family meal and cook. The stepmother punished me, beat me, and did not give me food even for small mistakes I made as a child. If I went to play with my friends, her anger would come to its boiling point. My dad saw all these things happening to me in the house but never came forward, stepping in to save my rights as a young child.

However, I have finished my Intermediate(High School) education. When I wanted to study more and expressed my interest to my parents, my stepmom told me that we would not pay for my further study.

Having all doors closed for my education to continue, I decided to go to any Arab country to work as a migrant worker. I wanted to make money and secure my future. I went to my grandmother to ask for money to make Passport. My grandmother kindly supported me in need.

After waiting for around two years, I finally got a visa. I managed to have some loans to pay the fee of the Staffing Consultancy. Now I fly to one of the Gulf Nations for a better future and definitely to support my lovely and lonely grandmother.

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