www.ianspratt.com
We are fortunate to have the support of Ian Spratt – a professional photographer – who donated his time and skill to produce a wonderful range of photographs of the Sreepur Village and surrounding areas. You can explore all these photographs here, including How Lucky We Are - 1986 - 1996 or you can view a selection below, while reading Ian's story about how he become involved with the charity.
Bangladesh. 
Like so many important life changing events this one starts with a simple telephone call. And I received the call late in the evening at my Berkshire home. My two young daughters, Nicola and Amy had gone to bed and I was tidying up, putting their toys away while their mother was reading them a bed time story. The telephone rang and upon answering it I immediately recognised the voice of my picture editor, Denis O’Brien.
It was October 1985 and a few days previously I had returned from an assignment to West Berlin to cover an official visit to the British Army base by Princess Diana. The trip had gone really well, producing a great set of pictures, including one particular shot of the Princess drivin g a tank. Denis O’Brien and our recently appointed new editor, Ernie Burrington both enthused about the picture. I know it is a clichébut in the cut and thrust of national newspapers a photographer is really only as good as his last set of pictures. I was extremely pleased with these pictures, especially with the way I had captured the tank shot, perched on a ladder on a windy parade ground, surrounded by the rest of the ‘Royal rat pack’ using a 600mm telephoto lens. The Princess’s expression was perfect and the image was pin sharp.
1985 was proving to be a good year on the Sunday People. I had organised and photographed all the girls for the current Miss People beauty competition. Sam Fox’s rise to fame and fortune was the result of her entry in the competition the previous year. I had also visited Spain, LA and Mexico on various assignments. I had photographed the famous Walton sextuplets at their liverpool home and covered the Live Aid concert at Wembley. Most of my week was taken up planning and then shooting material for the page 3 slot on The Sunday People plus an assortment of fashion related picture spreads, but when a story arose with strong picture potential I generally got to do it.
Denis O’Brien was never one to waste a lot of time on the telephone. He just said that he had a nice little job for me. He realised that I would be in the office the following morning but thought I would like to know that the editor wanted me to do a story in Bangladesh. Full details would be supplied when I arrived at the picture desk the following day.
As soon as I arrived at Mirror Group Newspapers HQ at Holborn Circus I went straight to the Sunday People picture desk to find out more about the Bangladesh trip. Denis handed me the brief and I went down to the canteen, grabbed a coffee and absorbed the facts. I didn’t know very much about Bangladesh except that it was a new country born from the horrific civil war of 1971. The incredibly high death toll caused by the civil war had created many thousands of abandoned and orphaned children left to roam the streets, scavenging for scraps of food. Many of the children died a sad and lonely death, malnourished and uncared for. Thankfully people such as Canadian, Sandra Simpson weren’t prepared to sit back and witness so many innocent lives extinguished.
Sandra’s concern for children orphaned by war had started at the end of the Vietnam conflict. She was there during the fall of Saigon and was responsible for airlifting many of the children to safety. Sandra was also actively involvedin helping children during many of the conflicts in Central America. By the late 70’s Sandra’s attention had turned to Bangladesh. With in a short time Sandra had established the Families for Children orphanage in a rundown old colonial building in the back streets of Dhaka. The orphanage was grossly under funded and in dire need of support but children were been helped and lives were been saved.
During the early 80’s British Airways added Tristars to their fleet of aircraft. One of the routes covered was London to Dhaka, via Calcutta. Due to the structure of the flight rosters the Tristar crews did a three day stop over in Dhaka. Most of the time was spent sitting around the pooi at the Sheraton Hotel drinking and sunbathing. Occasionally visits were made to the local markets to buy the odd trinkets for the folks back home. One particular stewardess was not content to just sit in the hotel grounds reading novels or drinking beer so she hired a rickshaw and started exploring the capital, sometimes on her own or sometimes she would persuade other crew members to go with her. On one of her excursions she stumbled on the Families for Children orphanage, tucked away in a dusty back street a short rickshaw ride away from the Sheraton Hotel. Pat Kerr had found her true vocation. Back in the UK Pat started to organise fund raising projects, the crews on their stopovers delivered the much needed clothes and medicines to the children, helping the over stretched volunteers based there. Pat persuaded, pestered and cajoled anyone and everyone to help the plight of the Bangladesh orphans. Even Lord King, the chairman of British Airways got involved with the project. Veteran journalist and TV producer, Desmond Wilcox heard of the sterling efforts of the ‘Flying Angel’ and persuaded Pat that a television documentary be made of the strange double life of the glamorous stewardess and pushy, charity fund raiser. Pat reluctantly agreed, never seeking publicity but realising the importance of good media coverage. The TV documentary featuring Pat was to form part of Desmond’s successful ‘The Visit’ television series. Capitalising on the advantages of cross media co-operation Desmond and The Sunday People agreed to join forces on covering Pat’s impending visit to the Families for Children orphanage. The idea being to run a powerful double page spread of pictures and words at the end of pat’s visit, followed by a second spread to coincide with transmission of the programme. Desmond was to supply the words and I had been chosen to produce the pictures.
Departure to Dhaka was planned for 18 November 1985, but two days before departure I joined Desmond and the crew in Cornwall to film Pat and her parents relaxing at the family home, drinking in the local pub and walking along the windswept Cornish coastline. That part of the assignment completed I headed back to London and packed for Bangladesh.
Pat Kerr was on duty during the flight, which was duly recorded by the film crew and myself. Following a short stop over in Calcutta we arrived in Bangladesh. Apparently I did not have the right paper work to import my camera equipment into the country so it took over two hours to clear customs. A local official from the ministry of information assigned to the crew and myself finally convinced customs that the paper work was in fact in order and we swept into the cacophony of the arrival area.
I lived in Iran as a teenager for over a year and had travelled extensively to many diverse parts of the world during my career as a photographer but that did not prepare me for Dhaka. The heat, the noise, the crowds were overwhelming. We fought our way through the throngs of people to our courtesy bus and headed for the The Sheraton Hotel, our base for the next two weeks.
Arriving at the orphanage the following day with Pat was an experience I shall never forget. The rickety double gates swung open and our vehicles slowly drove into the compound. Within seconds we were surrounded by lOOs of shouting, dancing, laughing children, some clothed and some completely naked. Tiny brown hands grabbed at us as we emerged from the trucks. Pat was spotted as she emerged and the shout went up... ‘Pat Mummy, Pat Mummy, Pat Mummy’. Smiling, she climbed from her vehicle and disappeared from view under a swarm of wriggling, giggling bodies.
A guest book was kept in the administration block. Visitors were expected to write a few words in it, to record their experiences. I wrote in the book, saying quite simply that I would return. The assignment was a complete success for everyone involved. A double page spread appeared in The Sunday People the week following my return. The second double page spread was published to coincide with the transmission of the documentary. I was happy, Desmond Wilcox was happy and so were the Mirror Group Newspaper hierarchy, including Robert Maxwell. It seemed a good time to capitalise on the situation. Even before I had arrived back in the UK I had decided that another trip was required. Something had to be done to illustrate plight of the children in Bangladesh. Children, so like my own daughters, that I had met and photographed at the orphanage in Indira Road. I arranged a meeting with Ernie Burrington and explained that I wanted to return to Bangladesh. I wanted to concentrate on the children without the constraints of following Pat and the documentary film crew. The images produced would feature in a book specifically highlighting the plight of children on the very brink of starvation and death. Profits going to the Families for Children project. I suggested that our boss, Mirror Group Newspapers owner Robert Maxwell be approached. Not only did Captain Bob own Mirror Group Newspapers, but a vast number of other publishing ventures also. Ernie discussed my plans with Maxwell and he thought it a great idea.
As a Mirror Group Newspapers staff photographer I was entitled to a sabbatical once every two years. I decided to use this for the trip. British Airways supplied the return flights and Ernie, my editor, agreed that he would pick up my expenses. In June of 1986 I headed off again to Dhaka. The monsoon was rapidly approaching as I arrived in the Bangladesh capital. Heavy, black clouds hung low over the city. Regularly disgorging their contents over the teeming city below. Even when it wasn’t raining the heat and humidity wrapped itself around everyone like an enormous moist blanket. Not the best conditions for a photographer to operate in. But armed with a couple of Nikons, a selection of lenses and a large quantity of black & white film I set about my self imposed task.
I had decided prior to my arrival in Dhaka to use the Sheraton Hotel as a base. Film stock could be kept cool and camera equipment stripped down and driedout at the end of the day. It was a routine that worked very well, at least for the first part of the assignment. I grabbed an early breakfast at the hotel and then took a 20 takka rickshaw ride from the hotel, through the crowded streets to Indira Road. Once at the orphanage I tried to keep a low profile. Leaving most of my camera equipment in the volunteers quarters, often working with a single Nikon with a spare lens and film in my shirt pocket. Despite my efforts to blend in I was surrounded a swarm of children most of the time, making candid photography very difficult. Patience paid off however, the children started to pay less attention to what must have appeared to be very strange behaviour and after a few days I became confident that I was producing a few reasonable shots.
Disaster struck during the second week. I visited the proposed site of the new orphanage at Sreepur, a small village 40 miles north of Dhaka. Two volunteers and myself had travelled up to Sreepur in the orphanage truck. A rather tortuous journey ending with a two mile excursion along a narrow dirt road that meandered through rice paddies and under large mango trees. Impromptu diversions were necessary as parts of the dirt road had been washed away by the recent rains. I thought it a good idea to go. There was the possibility of getting some good pictures and it was an opportunity to get away from the stifling heat and humidity of the city. The volunteers needed to meet a group of local government officials to discuss assorted planning matters. While the discussions were taking place I wandered off looking for picture opportunities. Within the space of a few minutes I found myself in the middle of a group of small mud huts surrounded by the inhabitants, ranging in age from a few months to old age. All smiling and looking directly at me. I smiled back at the friendly group took and took a couple of quick pictures. One of the men stepped forward and ushered me into one of the little houses. Almost instantly steaming rice and some sort of curry was produced. I suppose I should have politely declined but I didn’t and tucked into food.
I fin 
ished the meal made my excuses and left the village. By late afternoon we were making our way back to Dhaka. The truck dropped me off at The Sheraton and I invited the volunteers to join me for a beer. Two or three beers later I headed for my room to wash off the grime and sweat of the day. As I walked into the room I assumed one of the cleaners had turned the air conditioning higher than normal. I suddenly felt freezing cold. I checked the air conditioning controls and they were still on low. Sitting on the bed a wave of sickness swept over me followed by a violent nauseous headache. The next 12 hours were a terrifying mixture of feverous sweats and numbing cold. Most of the time crouched in the toilet. The following day I called the hotel doctor. After a quick examination he diagnosed acute food poisoning and prescribed a course of medication accompanied by re—hydration fluids. I spent the next two days huddled in my hotel room, unable to venture out. Luckily I had shot a lot of powerful images prior to the illness but still managed to return to the orphanage to complete the assignment, although I was 14 pounds lighter and very weak.
Examining the processed images back at the Mirror building proved that the discomfort I had suffered had been worth it. I had produced some really powerful images which in the autumn of 1986 were judged worthy of winning‘Photographer of the Year’. Sadly the book did not materialise. Maxwell did not honour his pledge to publish my book, but the orphanage used the images extensively for many of their campaigns.
The orphanage was successfully relocated to Sreepur in 1992. Pat Kerr’s sterling efforts had paid off. I flew out to Bangladesh once again to cover the preparations prior to the opening. Following my third visit I kept in touch with Pat and the other trustees, supplying an assortment of pictures as and when they required them. Some time during 1995 I received a request for some pictures and while sorting through my files I became curious about what had happened to the children that I had photographed during my visit almost 10 years earlier. Those initial thoughts developed into my next visit to Bangladesh in 1996. I decided to return to Dhaka totrace the children I had photographed 10 years previously.
The preparations went smoothly and I finally landed in Dhaka in October 1996 with a stack of 10x8 prints from my 1986 visit. A visual aid to the tracing process. I based my self at the orphanage and set about the daunting task, which went far better than I had anticipated. Two weeks later I had found and photographed 31 of the children I had photographed 10 years previously. Jointly sponsored by Ilford Films and British Airways an exhibition of the comparative images were produced, which were shown at Focus on Imaging held at NEC Birmingham, Chapel Gallery, Covent Garden and at British Airways executive lounges worldwide. Families for Children also featured the images on their web site.
In 1998 Pat Kerr married Derek at a colourful ceremony conducted at The Children’s Village, Sreepur. I covered the festivities for Canton TV. Desmond Wilcox produced the third part of the Pat Kerr trilogy.
During 2000 I had a series of meetings with the trustees of the newly named Sreepur Project to help redesign their web site and supply them with new images of the project. By October 2001 I was ready to return to Bangladesh. During my latest visit I approached the project differently, shooting exclusively in colour. I based myself in Sreepur once again making many excursions into the countryside to capture the essence of rural Bangladesh. I have also worked on a calendar untitled ‘Children of Bangladesh.’ The calendar is distributed through our Indian restaurants with profits going to the day to day running costs of the Sreepur Project.