Iqbal--The Prize
Follow our new NIE story every Tuesday through Dec. 18
by Francesco D'Adamo Translated by Ann Lenor
Date published: 12/11/2007
by Francesco D'Adamo Translated by Ann Lenor
The story so far: Iqbal has been helping the Liberation Front investigate child labor abuses. Fatima and Maria are working for them, too.
One dull, rainy day at the beginning of November, Eshan Khan called Iqbal and me into his personal office.
"Every year a company called Reebok, in the United States, in the city of Boston awards a prize that's called 'Youth in Action.' It's given to a young person who has done something of merit in any country in the world."
"I know Reebok," insisted Iqbal. "They make shoes. I've wanted a pair for months, but they're too expensive."
"The prize is fifteen thousand dollars."
"How many rupees is that?" I asked.
"More than we can imagine. This year the prize has been awarded to Iqbal. Now you're famous all over the world and everybody knows about our fight against child labor. It's a victory, Iqbal, and it's all thanks to you. You and I will go to Boston to receive the prize. But first we'll stop in another country, Sweden," he said. "There's going to be an international conference on labor problems. People will be coming from all over the world. They want to hear you speak."
It was like a dream. It was difficult for us to believe that others, faraway, knew about our suffering. Just a year before we had been working at our looms, some of us chained to them. And now all those people wanted to listen to Iqbal!
"There's more," said Eshan Khan. "A university near Boston has given you a scholarship. It means you'll be able to get a degree to become a lawyer. Today there's good news for Fatima, too. We've found your family. You'll be going home."
My heart jumped. Home! I could hardly remember it. And my mother? And my brothers and sisters? Suddenly I wanted to cry because I was so happy.
The next two weeks just flew by. The house boiled over with activity, everyone running from one end to the other, getting things ready for the journey. I have memories of Eshan Khan talking into three microphones. Of a stranger wandering around, taking photos of all of us. I should have made him give me one--at least I'd have that now.
Date published: 12/11/2007
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