Bangladesh building collapse: An end to recovery efforts, a promise of a new start

Across from the detritus of Bangladesh's
deadliest industrial disaster, up four flights of narrow stairs, and inside the
makeshift offices of the recovery operations, stands a dry erase board that
marks, in neat black handwriting, each life a nine-story building claimed when it
pancaked to the ground last month.
On some days, as rescue workers pulled body after body from the mountain of
steel and concrete, the number would spiral past 100.
On Monday, it settled at zero.
And so, after 20 days of non-stop digging, the army-led effort to pull out every
last body from the ruins of Rana Plaza in the Dhaka suburb of Savar came to
an end.
"We said we wouldn't stop until there were no more victims, and we didn't,"
said army Capt. Ibrahim Islam. "We are confident we have found them all."
The tally stands at 1,127 dead and 2,438 rescued alive. But Islam is
the first to admit that only God knows exactly how many occupants
were inside the building when it came tumbling down on April 24.
"We never were able to get a full accounting from the factory
owners," Islam said, referring to the five garment factories housed
in the building.
At least 98 people are still missing.
Another 59 are at a morgue, their bodies waiting to be identified
through DNA tests.
More than 230 bodies are unclaimed, prompting a civics group to
bury them in a Dhaka cemetery.
And what of the three severed heads and four unattached limbs
that are listed in red ink on the board?
But, in the last several days, the number of bodies had dwindled,
Islam said.
And after recovery crews made their last rounds Monday --
combing through the flooded basement of the structure and
finding no one -- they felt comfortable they had done their due
diligence.
On Tuesday, the army hands over the site to local authorities to complete the
cleanup. They will gather one last time to pray for the souls who perished.
"They will always be in our memory," Islam said.
The scene
Early Tuesday morning, the yellow excavators that roared night and day,
picking up tons of steel, fell silent.
People gathered and gawked at the yawning gap left in the cramped, congested
skyline of Savar where the gargantuan plaza -- the size of a city block -- once
stood.
"Aha re," the people shook their heads and tsked sympathetically. So sad.
"Shoitaner shoitan," they cursed. The devil's devil.
Their anger was directed at Sohel Rana, the building owner who dismissed
concerns that the cracks on Rana Plaza made the structure unsound.
"This building will stand a hundred years," he boasted on April 23.
The next morning, it came down.
Rana, who fled after the disaster but was arrested trying to cross into India, is
in police custody. He is a man so hated that even the most pacifist of
Bangladeshis wish death upon him.
There was a time when fliers bearing his beaming face festooned the walls
around Savar. They've now either been torn down or defaced.
"Kutta!" someone had scrawled on one.
Kutta , the Bengali word for dog.
A cracked system
But, human rights activists say, if fingers are to be pointed, there
are plenty of targets and plenty of blame to go around.
And in the next few days and months, Bangladeshis will have to
acknowledge the rude reality that it wasn't just a cracked building;
the deaths were as much a result of a cracked system.
The garment industry is a $20 billion-a-year money-generator for
Bangladesh. The 4,500 factories employ 3.6 million workers and
account for 77% of the country's exports.
Deadly accidents and deplorable conditions are all too common,
but pay is still a lure for many in this impoverished country, where
the minimum wage is the equivalent of $38 a month.
And so, the workers continued to work. And the government
continued to turn a blind eye to the disasters.
In the last decade, despite several other deadly accidents, no
factory owner has faced charges in court.
Until now.
Changes afoot
The outrage over Savar has reached such a fever pitch that the government not
only arrested Rana and the owners of the factories in the building, but it also
said it will form a committee to raise the minimum wage of garment workers.
On Monday, the government went a step further. Bangladesh's Cabinet
approved the draft of a law that will force factories to offer life insurance for
workers.
Internationally, several clothiers signed on to a plan that prevents fire and
building collapses in Bangladesh. Among the clothiers are H&M and Inditex—
which owns the Spanish brand Zara -- and PVH, which owns Calvin Klein and
Tommy Hilfiger.
The five-year plan calls for independent safety inspections and for companies
to publicly report the findings. It also requires retailers to help finance fire
safety and building improvements in factories they work with.
Companies who sign on will have to terminate business with any factory that
refuses to make necessary safety upgrades.
PVH is the only American company to sign on. A Wal-Mart spokesman said the
world's largest retailer had nothing to announce right now. And Sears said it
"assessing" the agreement.
"This is a crucial victory in the fight for companies to take responsibility for the
workers who make our clothes," said Ruth Tanner with the charity War on
Want.
"A tragedy like the Rana Plaza disaster cannot happen again."
But for many garment workers, it was a case of too little, too late.
In Ashuriya, a Dhaka suburb close to Savar, the garment trade group on
Monday night shut down 100 factories indefinitely. Workers there had refused
to work citing safety fears.
"For the last 14 days, workers came to work, clocked in, walked out," said
Shahidullah Azim, vice president of the Bangladesh Garment Manufacturers
and Exporters Association.
"We decided, 'No work, no pay.'"
The last survivor
Rana Plaza housed five garment factories, several shops and a bank.
The collapse occurred April 24, a day after cracks appeared in the structure. It
led the bank to order its employees not to report for work, and the shops were
closed because of a strike.
But garment workers were told to come in despite their concerns that the
building's structure was not sound.
The first few days after the collapse, rescue workers were buoyed by hope as
many survivors emerged from the rubble.
But then, for days, nothing.
On Friday, their spirits got a boost when Reshma, 19, was pulled out alive after
17 harrowing days.
"I did not have any food to eat. I had four biscuits and some water in 17 days,"
she told reporters Monday as she recuperated at a military hospital.
"The people who were with me under the rubble died. I heard people
screaming. 'Save me, save me,' they screamed. But I couldn't find them. I
tried."
For 20 days, so did the rescuers above ground.
But come Tuesday morning, they will wipe the deaths off the dry erase board.
It's time for a clean start.