Workers' lives a cheap commodity in the rag trade's pursuit of profit Hardship: Salique Mia and Reba Begum, parents of Rubel Mia, who died in the fire at Aswad Composite Mills. Dholapara is on no map. Featureless to the outside world, this tiny collection of squat cottages lies at the end of a dusty road. Here, hunger comes and goes with the rains and the rivers. There is no industry beyond tilling the tightly bound paddy fields. What is the future for us? I cannot know. I can only worry. Kushima But this town of a few dozen families is helping clothe the world, and is paying the price for it. Resigned to risks: Shafali Rahman, whose son, Nayeem, died in the Aswad fire. The latest in a string of major industrial disasters in Bangladesh, in October, was a fire at Aswad Composite Mills near the capital, Dhaka, at a factory that had been warned just a week before that it was "dangerous to human life" and a potential fire threat. Seven people died in the blaze. Four of them were from this village. Left behind are four grieving families and an expectant mother. These workers were killed making material for cheap clothes for America, Europe and Australia. Touched by tragedy: Saifur Rahman and Khotaja Begum walk through Dholapara. The couple's son, Khalilur, was one of seven people killed in a fire at the nearby Aswad Composite Mills. In the charred wreckage of the fire at Aswad were found order forms from a host of Western retail brands. Australian labels Just Jeans, Target, BigW and Kmart sourced material from the factory. Nayeem Rahman's daughter will never know her father. A few photos of the 25-year-old, now treasured family keepsakes, are all she will ever have. He perished at Aswad, one of the latest workers to die in a horrific 12-month period between November 2012 and October 2013, when more than 1200 Bangladeshi workers died in five garment and textile factory disasters, the worst record of industrial catastrophes this country has ever known. Kushima Khanam, heavily pregnant and now a widow at 22, says she wants to talk about the accident that killed her husband, but falters at his name. Nazrul Islam's son, Rashed, was killed in the factory fire. I used to say to Nay ... to my husband, 'Be careful, there have been accidents. Take care of yourself. But I never imagined it would happen there. The factory was nice. I don't blame the factory. My husband said to me it was safe for him. Kushima faces an uncertain future now, one of poverty and perhaps destitution. Her family has been compensated - they say they received more than half of the 700,000 taka ($10,100) promised by the factory and the powerful peak industry body, the Bangladesh Garment Manufacturers and Exporters Association - but the money won't last long, she says, and she will soon have a child to consider. It is a very painful time for me, and very tense. I worry about the future for me and for my baby. My husband earned money for the family. Now, he is gone. How long can I depend on my brother and my father-in-law to care for me and my child? Nayeem's elder brother, Julhaj, still works at Aswad. He was there on October 8 when the chimney of a drying machine caught fire. The blaze spread rapidly across the building, trapping the workers who stayed to try to fight it. The men's mother, Shafadi, explains through tears: "When the factory was on fire, Julhaj rang Nayeem on his phone saying, 'Where are you?' Nayeem told him, 'I am on the upstairs floor. I cannot get out. Please rescue me. Julhaj tried, but he couldn't ... reach his brother. Later, they identified Nayeem's body. Julhaj was reluctant to return to the factory, but felt compelled, Shafadi says, not without her own sorrow at the invidious choice facing her only living son. Julhaj said to me, 'The first time going back I was afraid.' But the factory has taken some initiatives for safety. After the incident, they reacted, and he is OK to work now. Because he has to work. We are unwell, every day we need medicine, Julhaj is the only one earning now and he cannot maintain us. He cannot meet the family's needs. We can't afford medicine and food. Our family is facing trouble. In Dholapara, the homes of the four families who lost sons at Aswad are all within 100 metres of each other. The households in between have sons and daughters in distant city factories too. Dholapara is a little corner of grief in Bangladesh. The impact of the tragedy is inescapable here, and is shared. But it is a universal theme in this village that they support Aswad as an employer, and Bangladesh's garment industry more broadly. There appears almost a resignation in Dholapara that people will die at work. It is a risk accepted, as the price of business. "The factory management, the factory owners, are very good," Nayeem's father, Motil, says. Sometimes these incidents happen. They [management] think about safety. They are concerned for the workers. Motil says his family decided that Nayeem and Julhaj should find work at a factory in Dhaka. In our village, many people are unemployed. There is no way for men to earn," he says. If we have this garment industry, our families can have some money, so the industry should be continued. If some factories have poor safety, then action should be taken, by the government or by the factory owners or the international buyers. The parents of 20-year-old Rubel Mia, who died alongside Nayeem fighting the fire at Aswad, are similarly supportive. In our village, we have no other way to earn money. It's very helpful for us - this industry. For young people have not much education here, [but they] can get a job and earn money. Aswad has promised to keep Rubel's younger brother, in school while he wants, or to offer him a job if he prefers. "Rubel was the only earning man in our family, so we are facing great difficulties now," his father Salique says. He said the factory was good. The conditions were all right for him. We never thought that the factory would harm our son. Their faith in Aswad might have been misplaced. On October 1, one week before the fatal blaze, the factory was issued with a formal notification by the Bangladeshi government that the building was unsafe for work. The report, signed by government inspector Shahidul Islam, raised nine violations with the company, including that the building was "dangerous for human life and security," and that "fire extinguisher and other fire safety equipment were not maintained in an appropriate manner; materials were not kept according to laws." The inspector also found the factory had been enlarged without approval, there was no record of regular maintenance of motors, electric switches, and wiring, and the building was not properly ventilated. This is a legal notice to the factory after special inspection. Nafis Sikder, managing director of the Palmal Group, owner of Aswad, told Fairfax the charges against the factory were "false and fabricated" and politically motivated. He said the factory met all safety requirements. Regardless, Aswad is again open for business, though the two textile production units razed in the fire have not yet been rebuilt. The factory sits behind high concrete walls and a chromed metal gate, where a security guard, who gives his name as Monu, refuses Fairfax entry, before, a few minutes later, managers invite us in. We are told we cannot take photos. "We lost seven brave soldiers in that incident," deputy general manager Mustafa al-Mujahid says. It was a very difficult day, a tragic day, for everybody here. The Palmal Group is one of Bangladesh's largest textile and garment manufacturers, employing more than 25,000 people across 27 production units and sending clothes all around the world. The company's exports were worth $US260 million ($292 million) last financial year. The family of each worker killed in October's fire has been promised 500,000 taka (about $7200) from the company, as well as 200,000 taka ($2900) from an insurance payout made by the Bangladesh Garment Manufacturers and Exporters Association. Much of this compensation, though not yet all, has been paid to the families. But even in death, some workers' lives are worth more than others. The family of the assistant manager killed was given 1.6 million taka, about $23,000. These are difficult times for the Bangladeshi garment industry, even outside the damage the country's reputation has suffered in the wake of a string of industrial disasters. "There is political unrest in Bangladesh, which makes it very difficult for business and for buyers," al-Mujahid explains. We cannot move our shipments to the port and out of the country. As well, the labour is always asking for higher and higher wages, but where is the end of this? The costs keep going up, but there is still pressure from buyers to keep prices low. Aswad, too, is losing money, paying its workers who, because large sections of the factory remain inoperative, have nowhere to work. But we are still paying them their full salaries. We are supporting them, standing by them. Shahidul Islam Sabuj, of the Garment Workers Unity Forum, says support for workers has come too late, and Aswad is but another example of a Bangladeshi company disregarding workers' safety for the sake of profit. One week before the fire, inspectors told Aswad, 'You have problems with your factory, these eight problems.' They did not make any improvements. They ignored this and kept operating. This fire is not an accident. It is negligence. As few as "5 to 10 per cent" of Bangladeshi garment factories are safe places to work. After Tazreen and Rana Plaza, there has been a lot of pressure on factory owners from buyers and from the government. We hear promises of improvement, but we do not see them yet. Improvement is too slow. Every day is unsafe. Among the workers killed at Aswad in October was 33-year-old Rashed. His wife, the mother of his two young children, has taken his place on the factory floor. Rashed's aged father, Nazrul Islam, remains in Dholapara, resigned that the factory that claimed his son's life will further keep his family apart. It [the fire] is an unexpected incident, and she cannot be worried, she cannot be concerned. She needs the economic support. She must earn money for her children. Almost casually, Nazrul says "accidents will happen" in the garment factories and sometimes risky work in a city factory is better than starving in the country. The unemployed people, they need to go to Dhaka to earn. Without a job, they cannot live," he says. The garment industry is a big sector for our country to earn money from outside, and good for young people from the country to earn and to support their family. But there needs to be security for workers in this industry. The authorities must ensure there are no incidents like this one again. Our sons and daughters must be safe.