Tale of a child worker
A few days ago I visited Bandarban, one of the lands of natural beauty, accompanied by some of my friends. We hired a four wheeler jeep to enjoy the tour smoothly. Surprisingly, I met a child who was the helper/conductor of that jeep which climbs a number of hiils every day. Undoubtedly, it was a risky job, but the boy performed spontaneously. When we reached the peak of a hill named Neelgiri, 2400 feet above the sea level, I realized the pathetic condition of that child. I called him “Pioneer” because he made me know about many attractive places and hills on the way to Neelgiri. I couldn't resist my temptation to talk to him alone to know about his short but experienced life of sorrow and deep depression. I came to know that he grew up in a tribal family in Bandarban. His father was a jeep driver. His mother was often brutally beaten by his drunken father. He had nothing to do but cry himself. Once his mother was beaten brutally and divorced by his drunken father.
From that occurrence his miserable life became even more miserable.
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