Of true grit and a mother’s love from 6,000km away

As the sun sets every evening in the Mauritian capital of Port Louis, Monoara reaches her workplace, a tuna processing company, and disconnects from the world by switching off her phone's internet.

Her mind, however, wanders some 6,000 kilometers away in Dhaka, with her son Md Yasin, 20-years-old and suffering from intellectual disabilities; 24-year old daughter Sultana Akter, who takes care of her brother; and her elderly mother-in-law.

When Monoara gets her dinner break, she anxiously switches her internet back on and checks her phone.

"Every missed call from my daughter, or any Bangladeshi number, makes me anxious. Before calling back, I fear the worst -- 'did something happen to my son?' But once I hear they're okay, I can breathe again," said the 39-year-old migrant worker.

Monoara has been working in Mauritius for the past 16 years.

"Sometimes they fall asleep by the time I can call back but my worries don't go away until my shift ends at 5:00am Mauritius time [7:00am Dhaka time]."

When Monoara went to Mauritius in 2008, she had no clue her husband had secretly married for the third time and was spending the remittance she had been sending.

When she returned six years later, she discovered that her husband already had a child with his new wife.

Upon Monoara's disapproval, he abandoned her, their children and even his own mother.

Thus began Monoara's journey as a single mother.

In these 16 years, she was able to visit her children only twice -- in 2014 and 2023. 

She has been working at the tuna company for a decade, alongside other female migrant workers from different countries.

They toil for nearly 10 hours with a target of cleaning and deboning 50 plates of large boiled and peeled tuna fish with knives.

"Our hands get quite bloody in the process. Yet, even after meeting our target, we push for more work to earn some extra money. This way, I make around Tk 23,000, which is still not enough to meet my family's needs."

Monoara's children live in a two-room house in Bamoil Bazar of Demra in the capital. They need at least Tk 17,000 to cover rent, food, and other essentials. Meanwhile, her son requires medication and her mother-in-law, who has suffered two strokes, needs routine medical care.

With no healthy guardian present, Monoara had no choice but to marry off her daughter at an early age.

Her daughter, who still lives in the Bamoil Bazar house, also needs Monoara's support with her husband facing financial difficulties.

Back in Port Louis, once Monoara freshens up from her night job, she goes from home to home for part-time cleaning jobs. She tries to make time to speak to her children while going from one house to the other.

Every day, she works in at least three houses, where she cleans the floors and garages, wipes the furniture and does the laundry for local families. With this, she adds another Tk 20,000 to her monthly income.

Wrapping up her cleaning job around noon, she heads back to her living quarters, shared by nine other Bangladeshi women. After preparing her food and showering, she gets a brief window to rest her eyes, before gearing up to get back to her night job.

When Monoara parted with her children, Sultana was just eight years old and Yasin was five.

"Due to financial struggles, I had to leave them when they needed me the most. My thoughts are always with my children and I'll continue to work to support them for as long as I'm physically able."

Today, Monoara can see her children through WhatsApp or Facebook Messenger video calls. But earlier, it was not so simple to keep in touch.

"When smartphones weren't available, I used to call them from button phones. Just one call would finish up a MUR 300 Mauritian recharging card … When I yearned to see them, I would contact the local computer shop in Bamoil Bazar to speak to them on Skype. But often, we couldn't speak a single word. We would just see each other and cry.

"There were many moments I felt like going back to my children for good, like when my son broke his hand or when my daughter cried because other parents would accompany her friends to the SSC exam hall but she had no one."

With tears in her eyes, she continued, "Even now when I get to know that my children are in a stressful situation, I feel the urge to go back to them. But then I remind and ask myself, 'Who will provide for them if I don't?'"

With no family in Mauritius, Eid or special occasions are lonely affairs for Monoara.

"I don't eat special foods on these days because I can't do it without my children. I sometimes feel like flying to them to cook them special food and take them out for Eid … Maybe one day I'll finally be able to."

One of the houses Monoara does her part-time cleaning job at belongs to Aukburally Leila Shaheen, a research executive.

Speaking about Monoara, Shaheen spoke highly of her dedication towards her children, saying it was a representation of a mother's true love and grit. 

"She works through the night, then returns to work at people's houses in the morning and catches a few hours of sleep after that. She sends every penny she earns to her children in Dhaka. This level of determination is something only a mother possesses."

When Shaheen asked why she does not remarry, Monoara responded with, "My children are my whole life."

Speaking to The Daily Star, Monoara's daughter Sultana, said, "Every mother is special to their children, but there are some who make profound sacrifices. Since we were young, we've been witnessing our mother dedicating her life solely to us. She sacrificed her own comfort, desires and even her personal life for us."