Brick field workers in Bangladesh, whole families work side by side. They turn clay into the building bricks for the nation. The air is thick with swirling orange dust that settles on skin, clothes, and even the creases of smiles. Children, too young to shoulder such heavy work, join their parents, their hands stacking bricks as if it’s a game.

When I visited, the sun burned mercilessly, the dry heat clinging to everything. Every breath felt heavy with dust, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the toll on their lungs. Despite the conditions, the workers moved to the rhythm of survival with determination on their faces.

The orange haze stayed with me, a vivid reminder of their strength and the sacrifices they make to build a future, brick by brick, even in the face of unimaginable hardships.