Why this foreign worker doesn't have Singaporean friends
A mall put up a sign last month banning construction workers from its toilets. Then a picture of a worker eating on the ground made headlines.NG JUN SEN (ngjunsen@sph.com.sg) looks at the social consciousness of transient workers here
It is his last week in Singapore, after about eight years working in the construction sector.
Mr Mohammad Zahirul Islam's work permit expired on Friday, and by law, he has to return to his small village home in Comilla, Bangladesh, on that day.
But ask the 38-year-old if he is willing to leave and he sighs wistfully.
His heart, Mr Zahirul Islam says, belongs in Singapore. He does not know if he will be able to come back here to work.
"The land is beautiful, I remember all the places (I have been to). The bus, the worksites, the dormitory," he tells The New Paper on Sunday.
The aspiring poet has even penned more than 350 Bengali poems, with a majority of them written here.
Despite his ardent love for the country, Mr Zahirul Islam says he was unable to make a true Singaporean friend.
It is not for the lack of trying either.
Mr Zahirul Islam says: "I have friends, but all are Bangladeshi or foreign workers. Singaporean friends too, like colleagues and boss. But they not really friends, more like outsiders.
"When they ask us to go out, go drinking, they buy bottle, eat good food. But I don't make money like them, my income is little.
"I am Muslim and cannot drink, so I (get) shy and ashamed. We don't pass time with Singapore friends because they got money, we no money. My salary is not high."
Still, he tries, sharing about his hobbies and dreams to earn a literature degree in France and become a poet, and how he put those dreams on hold to make money for his wife and two daughters.
He keeps his notes and poems in a corporate diary - a gift - and he takes it out while on public transport, during downtimes at worksites or in the workers' dormitory, to write down his thoughts.
OTHER ARTISTS
Every weekend, he visits Dibashram, a shelter and art space for Bangladeshi workers in Little India, and meets a group of Bangladeshi artists and writers to talk about culture and poetry.
That was also where TNPS met him for the first time.
Yet, he says most locals see him as defined by his job - a construction worker - and nothing more.
He says: "When I tell some Singaporeans who are (more) educated, I am poet, they think it is very interesting.
"But most ordinary people no really understand poem. I translate to English, tell them about Bangladesh culture. But they no interested in Bangladesh. Some think it is funny. They say, 'Oh you are writer? Then what are you doing here?'"
Mr Zahirul Islam says he is saddened whenever he hears such quick dismissals of his lofty dreams.
He adds: "I can write here too, I have space in Dibashram, I go every week. I am still writer, why they say I am construction worker only?"
Just before his flight home, Mr Zahirul Islam wrote his final poem here under the train tracks at Jurong East MRT station, which he titled Oh Singapore.
One excerpt from the poem, translated from Bengali, goes as follows:
"Oh Singapore, you will remain in my heart, in my poems forever.
If possible, let your people know that I love you so much
Yet nobody knows that I have penned my life's diary here."
Oh Singapore, you will remain in my heart, in my poems forever.
If possible, let your people know that I love you so much
Yet nobody knows that I have penned my life's diary here.
- An excerpt from a poem by Mr Mohammad Zahirul Islam, translated from Bengali
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