TEKNAF,: The wind had whipped the waves to nearly three times the woman’s height when her panicked voice crackled over the phone.
“Our boat has sunk!” Setera Begum shouted, as a storm threatened to spill her and around 180 others into the inky black sea south of Bangladesh. “Only half of it is still afloat!”
On the other end of the line, hundreds of miles away in Malaysia, was her husband, Muhammed Rashid, who picked up the phone at 10:59 p.m. his time on Dec. 7, 2022. He had not seen his family in 11 years. And he had only learned days earlier that Setera and two of their daughters had fled surging violence in Bangladesh’s camps for ethnic Rohingya refugees.
Now, Rashid feared, his family’s frantic bid to escape would cost them the very thing they were trying to save — their lives. For despite Setera’s pleas, no help would come, not for her or for the babies, the 3-year-old afraid of the sea or the pregnant women also on board.
Rashid listened to his wife’s terrified voice with growing dread.
“Oh Allah, it’s sunk by the waves!” Setera cried. “It’s sunk by the storm!”
The call disconnected.
Rashid tried to call back. On board the boat, the satellite phone rang. But no one answered.
Rashid tried again. He tried more than 100 times.
