'Can you help me sell my kidney': Why Moghbazar couple has turned to chilling last resort
Met with a mountain of debt, a Moghbazar couple decided it was time to take drastic measures. *Names have been changed to protect privacy
It was an ordinary day in Eskaton, Dhaka, when a small, unassuming leaflet caught the attention of three passersby.
"I want to sell my kidney. Contact at…" the sign, dangling from a wall, read.
The poster also gave details about the blood group.
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An intrigue was immediately built.
Selling kidneys for a quick buck or even to gather money for a life abroad was a practice in Bangladesh, which had over the years been receded to the far corners of the memory.
Following the trail of murmurs, the story behind the chilling notice was soon uncovered.
The trail led to a tailor shop in the Moghbazar area.
This is where the story began.
The burden of grace
It was a sunny day in the third week of September.
Inside a small tailor shop in the capital's Moghbazar Mor, a man was busy stitching together some clothes.
On the other side, a woman in a Hijab, was taking measurements of a customer. Every few minutes, she would turn to look at a young child beside her, who was incessant in her need for quick attention.
The sewing machine whirred, droning out most of the outside noise. On the surface, it was an ordinary day at a cosy family-run business.
The circumstances, however, were far from ordinary.
"My husband used to work in a hospital. He told me that people can live with just one kidney. So, we decided to sell one kidney each. With the money we get, we will pay off our loans"
Once the customers left, the lady picked up the child and turned to speak to the man on the sewing machine, who turned out to be her husband.
After entering the shop, a conversation is struck up with the woman.
"Was the poster about selling a kidney yours?"
Before she could answer, another customer entered the shop. The woman immediately froze, fear, and perhaps shame, clear in her eyes.
Her husband began talking to the customer, while she remained silent, speaking only after the patron had left.
"Yes, it was my number you had called."
She introduced herself as Halima Begum*. Her husband was Jamshed Rahman*. The child? It was their own.
Given the footfall in her shop, she's asked why she had decided to sell her kidney.
The start of that story begins in 2020 – the Covid-19 pandemic.
The effects of the pandemic were felt much after it had ended.
A total of 317 faced liquidation in the first nine months of the fiscal year 2022-23, up from 173 in FY21, 93 in FY20, and 84 in FY19.
Halima's business was in danger of being part of that statistic. With a baby on the way as well, she had to take some drastic measures.
A crippling debt, a vicious cycle
As their business waned post-pandemic, the couple hung on. While expenses mounted, they were adamant about keeping their two employees as well.
Their salary bill for the two came to Tk30,000 each month. There was also rent.
Their fear was losing such a prime location, but they hoped the situation would normalise soon.
In view of this, they began taking up loans to cover the business expenditure.
But in time, they began to be caught up in the vicious cycle of debt.
Desperation grew as their debt bill rose to a crushing Tk15 lakh, borrowed from traditional money lenders and microcredit providers to keep their business afloat during the Covid-19 pandemic.
The most pressing burden now comes from two loans amounting to Tk360,000 from local money lenders.
"To make the monthly payments, we keep taking out new loans. As a result, the debt keeps increasing"
Despite earning Tk50,000 to Tk60,000 per month from their tailoring business, all of their income goes toward repaying the loans.
Yet, these are not enough to pay the instalments of all loans.
With exorbitant interest rates, the couple pays Tk30,000 a month just in interest, without touching the principal amount.
"What else can we do? We have no other option but to sell our kidneys," said a dejected Halima Begum, reflecting on the harsh reality many face in a city where loan sharks still thrive amid economic despair.
"To make the monthly payments, we keep taking out new loans. As a result, the debt keeps increasing."
She added, "Sometimes, NGO officials mistreat us in front of customers when they come to collect the instalments. I couldn't bear such mistreatment in front of customers, and several times, I thought about committing suicide. But when I look at my daughter, I can't bring myself to do it."
The rise and fall
As the conversation turned to how they accumulated so much debt, Jamshed, stopped his work and came to stand beside his wife.
Halima shared that they had gotten married in 2017.
Initially, Halima ran the tailoring shop while Jamshed worked elsewhere.
Their family was doing well.
The shop employed two workers, and from the income, they supported their family and sent money to Halima's parents every month.
However, when the pandemic hit, their well-settled life turned upside down.
"People like Halima can take out loans from multiple microfinance companies against the same asset. Since the interest rates are high at these NGOs, people cannot keep up with the instalments"
Between shop rent, worker salaries, house rent, and family expenses, they became overwhelmed with debt.
"The shop rent was Tk12,000, house rent was Tk13,000, and the two workers were paid Tk30,000 every month. My wife was pregnant at that time. My daughter was born in 2020, and my wife had to undergo a caesarean section. All of this led to massive expenses and eventually debt," said Jamshed.
As their debt continued to rise, the couple eventually had to lay off their workers, something they had long decided they wouldn't do.
Despite the risks of Covid-19, Jamshed resumed work at the shop to make ends meet.
However, their expenses outweighed their income, forcing them to borrow from local lenders with high interest rates this time just to pay the shop rent.
"When we restarted the shop after the pandemic, we were already in debt of around Tk7-8 lakh. We thought that if both of us worked, we could pay it off, but instead, the situation kept worsening," said Halima.
Halima Begum shared that they have taken out loans from at least six different NGOs and banks, amounting to over Tk15 lakh.
Among these, they borrowed Tk1,10,000 from a money lender, with a weekly instalment of Tk2,750.
As of the third week of September, they still owed Tk88,660.
From an NGO, they borrowed Tk3,80,700 and have paid 11 instalments of Tk16,200 per month. They still owe Tk2,02,500.
They took Tk1,30,000 from another NGO, paying two monthly instalments of Tk13,000 each, but they still owe Tk26,000.
They also have a Tk4,47,000 loan from The Mercantile Co-operative Bank Ltd at the Banglamotor branch, with a daily instalment of Tk2,000. As of September 10th, they had paid Tk42,000.
Halima claims they owe over Tk10,00,000 to other NGOs, banks and money lenders.
For one NGO, they pay an instalment of Tk30,000, for another Tk10,000 monthly, and Tk30,000 in interest to the moneylender.
However, Halima could only provide documentation for the loans.
Halima and Jamshed shared that both their families are financially unstable.
But how did the decision to sell a kidney come about?
'You're a journalist, please help us sell our kidneys'
Halima began to consider the idea when she first heard of it a while back.
"My husband used to work in a hospital. He told me that people can live with just one kidney. So, we decided to sell one kidney each. With the money we get, we will pay off our loans," said Halima.
Subsequently, they put up leaflets around Dhaka offering to sell their kidneys, with a contact number included.
Halima mentioned that many people called, but mostly just to ask strange questions.
"People call and ask all kinds of questions. However, two people have shown serious interest in buying a kidney, but we haven't met them in person yet," said Halima.
"You're a journalist, please help us sell our kidneys," she pleaded.
As we finished talking and left the shop, Jamshed came up to make one last addition.
She quietly said they had been living in the area for several years and most locals were their customers.
They added that they hadn't put up any posters in the locality and requested their photos be blurred if it's used in any report.
In a follow-up last Wednesday, Halima expressed her disappointment as she hadn't been able to find any buyer yet.
The two prospective buyers hadn't followed up, but more people had contacted her since.
She holds out hope for a miracle at last.
Is there any alternative?
On 1 October, The Business Standard reached out to The Mercantile Co-operative Bank Ltd to inform them of Halima's situation and inquire about possible solutions, but no one was willing to comment on the matter.
M Rezul Karim Chowdhury, executive director of the Coast Foundation, a non-governmental organisation that also offers microfinance, stated that the Microcredit Regulatory Authority (MRA), which licences NGOs, has a provision that allows for a 5-10% loan loss under the Loan Loss Provision (LLP) guidelines.
The NGOs have accepted these terms when obtaining their licences.
Under this provision, micro-entrepreneur Halima Begum's loan could be waived.
"I believe the NGOs who provided the loans would waive the microfinance loan if they were aware of Halima Begum's plight," he added.
Mustafa K Mujeri, ex-principal economist of Bangladesh Bank, stated that the respective microfinance authorities are responsible for the plight of Halima Begum.
According to Mostafa, "Generally, banks provide loans against a specific asset. In this case, the bank checks if loans have been taken from other sources against the same asset. However, microfinance institutions do not verify this."
He added, "People like Halima can take out loans from multiple microfinance companies against the same asset. Since the interest rates are high at these NGOs, people cannot keep up with the instalments."
He also suggested that Halima should present her case to the respective NGO offices.
The NGOs could waive her loan under loan insurance or reschedule the payments.
How prevalent is selling kidneys?
In a 2023 study supported by The National Science Foundation (NSF) and the Korea Development Institute, it was found that illegal kidney sales or "transplant tourism" in Global South, particularly at the hubs in South Asia such as India, Bangladesh, Nepal and Pakistan, were well reported.
Earlier reports had also shown that prevalence of kidney sale was particularly high in Bangladesh, but the estimates were mostly based on anecdotal evidence.
For the study, researchers interviewed 360 individuals in Kalai Upazila – an area known for kidney trafficking.
It was found that 83% of kidney sales were down to poverty.
The survey data also revealed that most kidney sellers were men (77%) and young, with an average age of 33 years.
The survey data also described kidney sellers differently than kidney brokers. Kidney sellers were relatively poor, while kidney brokers were wealthy and respected.
The survey also showed that 78% of female kidney sellers were housewives needing money.
As with Halima's case, loan repayments accounted for 4% of kidney sales in Kalai Upazila, with many resorting to microcredit loans, usually to start business ventures, then failing to repay those.
In Bangladesh, a large-scale kidney trafficking ring was revealed in 2018 in Joypurhat.
According to the local leader of Kalai Upazila in Joypurhat, more than 500 people sold their kidneys over the past decade in Matrai and Udaipur unions.
With the population of Matrai and Udaipur unions being approximately 49 510, this suggests that at least 1 in 100 villagers (1%) sold their kidneys illegally thus far.
Past governments have often worked on awareness campaigns regarding organ donation, with signs posted in different villages warning against it.
What the law says
The Human Organ Transplantation Act-1999 and its 2018 amendment allows only close relatives like sons, daughters, parents, siblings, uncles, aunts, first cousins, and spouses to donate organs. The organ donations can come from both living and brain-dead donors.
In total, 23 types of close relatives can donate kidneys. Section 9 of the Act, however, bans trading in human organs, getting organs in exchange for gifts, or publishing advertisements to this end.
Any relative or others proved to be selling their organs or assisting in such an act can be punished with three to seven years in jail, a minimum Tk300,000 fine, or both.
On 19 January 2023, doctors conducted the country's first-ever cadaveric kidney transplantation from a 20-year-old girl, who was declared clinically-dead.
The first kidney transplant in Bangladesh was performed in 1982, and around 3,500 transplants have been conducted so far. But doctors estimate that the country requires at least 5,000 kidney transplants per year.
It has been reported most illegally kidney donations take place in neighbouring India, where sellers or donors are flown out for the surgery.
