‘When Home Won’t Let You Stay’ by Shahria Sharmin

Will the Rohingyas ever have what most people in this world take for granted?

Shah Alam (19), a fisherman who feels the sea is his home.

There are currently about 1.1 million Rohingyas in Bangladesh. Cox’s Bazar, a town on the southeast coast of Bangladesh, has one of the largest refugee concentrations in the world.

Traveling back and forth to the camps with a box camera, freelance photographer and 2019 Joop Swart Masterclass participant Shahria Sharmin spent months making portraits of Rohingya youths and listening to their stories of villages back home, where they hope to return one day. The result is a complex layering of landscapes, portraits, found photographs, personal testimonies, and her own narratives.

(Left) A fishing boat, near to Shamlapur camp, Coxbazar, Bangladesh

“The stark contrast between my daughters leaving for college and Rohingya children forced into a foreign land inspired me to initiate this project.”

When asked about the significance of the box camera, Shahria explained that the box camera helped her to stand out as different from the journalists that are there all the time.

“They were surprised because I was carrying a box camera. It was surely a startling discovery for the Rohingya when they found me in the middle of the camp. I’m sure I looked different and maybe even weird to them; a woman carrying a very large wooden box, looking completely lost.”

(Left) Uprooted from his home in Myanmar, Fazal Karim (18) accepts his reality. He has learned to accept this country, Bangladesh as his ultimate shelter. (Right) The boat has been the deliverer. But it can also be the devil for Rohingyas. Many sailed across the high sea to land in Bangladesh.

But when she considered their surroundings and living situations, she thought the best metaphor would be a camera that looked like a box.

“Last year I visited them a few times, interviewed them, spent time with them, and found the houses where they were living reminded me of a box—mostly because they don’t have any windows. I met a guy, a blind person, who missed his window back home in Myanmar that he used to sit next to. He told me he feels claustrophobic here in the refugee camp. So I thought that the box would be the best medium to tell the story.”

Trapped in refugee settlements without much hope or security, they turn to their young. They look at their sons as their hope for a better future. So does Shetu (24). Pregnant with her fourth child, she hopes this time it will be a boy.

The trust between photographer and subject was built naturally, as Shahria explains: “My process is difficult because I need so many assistants, so I included [the refugees] in the process. I asked them to stay with me, carry things, help me out. They were very curious, always around me.”

Myanmar border, No man’s land in Coxbazar, Bangladesh

(Left) Her younger brother was brutally slaughtered right in front of her eyes by the Myanmar army. Now all Senowara(25) has, are tears. (Right) Watch tower, Kutupalang camp 3, Cox Bazar, Bangladesh

When asked about finishing this story, Shahria says she will, of course, go back. “I have to experience more. I have to spend more time there, not for the pictures, but to listen to their stories and spend time with them. To get a better understanding and, eventually, I want to see what’s happened to them. Aren’t they gonna go back?”

(Left) A dream began anew when Mobarak (27, right), a local fisherman, showed Nobir Hossain (25, left) the path to survival. They are good friends now and spend days in the open sea, both dreaming of a better future. (Right) Her adolescence ended as she fled Myanmar with only traumatic memories, but her life had a new beginning at the camp. Now Nur Fatema (22) looks forward to see the innocent face of her child which will wipe away those memories.

“Some of them became my friends, but I can’t do anything for them because I will always be trapped in political red tape. Everything is politics. I can just listen to their stories. What else can you do?”

Local Market, Kutupalang camp in Coxbazar, Bangladesh

(Left) Crossing the border to Bangladesh was not the end of Jamila Begum’s (48) journey. She lost her 19-year-old daughter as they travelled for 14 days. Today, she keeps looking for her daughter among the thousands at the camps. (Right) All Abdul Karim (66) has are his two hands to build a new home at the camp—the same hands that buried his 24-year old son in Myanmar killed in 2017.

(Left) Standing on the seashore, barefoot, lost, looking at the sky, Tosmin Ara (23) along with her son asks God ‘Why is there no place called home?’

Based in Dhaka, Bangladesh, Shahria Sharmin describes her interest in photography being driven by the flux of identity, sexuality, and gender in relationship to material culture. In 2017, she was recognized by the International Photographer of the Year; received a Magnum Photography Award and was shortlisted for Women Photograph’s Grant 2017 with the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting. In 2014, she was awarded second prize in the Alexia Foundation student grant.

The 26th edition of World Press Photo’s Joop Swart Masterclass took place on 17–21 September 2019 in Amsterdam, Netherlands. Each year, in preparation for the masterclass, the participants produce a project on one single theme to be discussed during editing sessions with the five masters. Find out more about the 2019 Joop Swart Masterclass.

Sharmin reflects on the role of visual storytelling in relation to this masterclass year’s theme, Contrast: “Millions have fled what they called their home to seek refuge. Millions continue to starve and die of diseases that have been eradicated in most countries. Perhaps the darker side of the contrast ought to be portrayed in all its shades and hues. Visuals can only portray that contrast and visuals can only trigger questions. Images can’t presume to present solutions but they must ask the questions and give voice to the millions whose voices aren’t being heard.”

“I believe the masterclass is a platform for experimenting for socially concerned photographers. Through enriched discussions and multicultural perspectives, I would like to improve my ability to craft better narratives, to coordinate my intuitive feelings and bring new values by removing my confusions.”