Maliha Mohsin illustrates how Lekhon Tajul, an educated young man from a middleclass family pulls his Dream Van out on the streets to imply that no job is too small
‘In developed countries, the same ones that we always want to move to, you see young people taking whatever jobs they get. They wait tables, wash cars, deliver newspapers. No job is too small. But you would never expect the same from an educated young person here,’ Lekhon Tajul says quite rightly.
The entire scenario is ironic. When Bangladeshis go abroad and toil at laborious jobs, people often acknowledge and even hail them at home because they send back remittance. Contrarily, when Bangladeshis do the same kind of jobs at home, they are derogatorily called ‘kamla’ and ‘bosti’, two widely used urban slangs. As if poverty-ridden lives are supposed to embody disrespect and degradation.
The very moment Tajul stepped into South Korea for work five years ago as a migrant labour himself, he knew he wanted to come back as soon as his term ended. Tajul is educated and has worked good jobs. He makes it a point to express how kind and welcoming his host country had been to him. But there was a sense of condescension that never really made him feel at home there.
Leaving the job before his term ended was close to an impossible task for him; he had a family back home in Bangladesh that expected big things of his career and education. And that was a societal burden that makes little sense to him even now.
So when he returned home in January of 2016, he came back with a plan. He was to set up a small business in a cart. It would be a mobile shop that would be pulled from place to place. It would be called ‘Dream Van’.
The idea itself isn’t the most unique. We have had vans/carts with mobile shops on our streets forever. Hawkers move around and yell in their unique rhythms to sell one more product. The only difference here is that this is a man from an upper-middle class family, pulling a beautiful, sturdy cart all by himself on the streets wearing good boots and pants.
And Tajul hopes that he can stand as an example to the children of middle class families to set out and work on small businesses themselves. ‘Instead of sitting at home, turning hopeless in search for good jobs, it never occurs to these young people to take up smaller jobs or at least create new jobs for themselves. They are ashamed of working the streets, ashamed of having someone see them in a job that isn’t in a suit. But what is with this shame? Why is one work smaller than the other?’ he asks.
Even though Tajul’s idea might not seem entirely convincing to fresh graduates because the money a van or cart makes might not be enough to pay all the bills, the idea nevertheless looks at labour in an idealistic way. The idea aims to remove the derisive look that menial jobs get in Bangladeshi society.
Tajul however is not looking to make a sufficient living out of the Dream Van. For him it is more about getting out on the street with a cart to make a statement. Most people who make their livings on carts however do it not to make a statement but a living. Which ensues an obvious question: If all these young kids in their nice shoes got out on the streets and started selling peanuts and pulling carts, what would that do for the people who already make a living out of these jobs?
Tajul smiles at that question. ‘These people out on the streets – sweeping, lifting loads, pulling carts and rickshaws – they are the real survivors to me. They will always find work. When we set out to do the same jobs, we will do them differently. And we can include them in our work. They can join our businesses, help them grow. We can train them to be more appealing to the customers,’ Tajul replies.
Tajul didn’t set the Dream Van initially to pull it himself. He employed a young boy to pull it. But as it turns out, even though he says he did his best to make the boy feel economically secure in the job, he didn’t feel comfortable pulling the cart. The boy eventually left. And that gave Tajul the kick and the drive to start pulling the cart himself.
One might wonder how many people who have or are graduating from universities with formal education will be willing to pull carts. Very few, probably. But they can always create scopes for low income people working the streets to step into a new arena of the same jobs. Also, if fresh graduates started pulling carts out on the streets, the longstanding societal attitude of looking down upon certain jobs might finally be broken. Besides an educated man from the urban middle class can also bring innovation in these small entrepreneurial ventures.
Tajul wants to break social hierarchy. With an aim to create an impact and awareness among the middle class, he says, ‘There really are no small jobs. There are jobs that take little time and jobs that take longer time. But no job can be bigger than the other, can it?’