The River of Hope In a quiet village near the banks of the Meghna River, there lived a young boy named Arif. His village, Nandipur, was peaceful, filled with green paddy fields, fishermen’s boats, and children flying kites in the afternoon breeze. But over the last few years, things had changed. The river that once gave life to the village was now dying slowly. Arif was sixteen years old, a student of Class 10 in the local high school. His father was a farmer and his mother a homemaker. Every morning, Arif walked to school with his best friend Hasan. On the way, they passed the cracked riverbed, where water once flowed like silver. One day, as they walked past the river, Arif stopped. “Hasan, do you remember when we used to swim here after exams?” he asked. Hasan nodded. “Now look at it. It’s like the river is crying.” The village had been facing many problems. The water level had dropped. Fish had disappeared. The farmers had to depend on rain, which was uncertain. Some villagers had even moved to Dhaka in search of work. Arif couldn’t accept that. He loved his village too much. That evening, at dinner, Arif spoke to his parents. “Why is the river drying up, Abbu?” His father sighed. “Too many things, Arif. Factories upstream, cutting trees, and nobody caring for the environment.” “Can’t we do something?” His mother smiled gently. “You are still young. But maybe your generation can bring the river back.” That night, Arif couldn’t sleep. His mind was full of ideas. What if they cleaned the riverbed? What if they planted trees again? Could they speak to people in charge? The next day at school, Arif asked his science teacher, Mr. Rahman, about it. Mr. Rahman said, “Reviving a river is difficult, Arif. But not impossible. You need knowledge, teamwork, and determination.” Those words stayed with Arif. He spoke to Hasan, and soon they formed a group — “Save Meghna Youth Team.” At first, it was just five friends. They started by cleaning plastic and garbage from the riverbank every weekend. Villagers laughed at first. “What will these boys do?” they said. But the boys didn’t stop. They made posters and held small meetings in the village school. They invited farmers, teachers, even the local imam. Slowly, the villagers started listening. Arif and his friends also searched online. They learned about rainwater harvesting, tree plantation, and natural water flow restoration. With the help of their science teacher, they wrote a letter to the Upazila Officer, requesting support for their campaign. One month later, the Upazila team visited the village. They were surprised to see students taking such action. “You are doing good work,” said the officer. “We will help with tree saplings and cleaning equipment.” With government help, the work got faster. Soon, women and elderly villagers joined. People started planting trees along the river. The school turned its roof into a rainwater collection system. Fishermen cleaned their boats and promised not to throw waste into the water. Local media came to cover the story. A news report titled “Village Students Fight to Save Meghna” became viral. One day, Arif got a phone call from Dhaka. An environmental NGO wanted to meet him. “We’d like to offer you a scholarship,” they said. “You’re inspiring many others. We also want to partner with your school for a river awareness program.” Arif was speechless. He never imagined this small idea could grow so big. Months passed. The river, slowly but surely, began to breathe again. During the monsoon, it filled with water once more. Birds returned. Small fish were seen jumping in the shallows. People smiled more now. Children played near the riverbank again. Arif stood one evening with his father, watching the sunset. “I’m proud of you, Arif,” his father said. “You’ve done something even elders couldn’t do.” Arif replied, “I didn’t do it alone, Abbu. The village did it. We did it together.” Now, every year, on River Day, Nandipur celebrates with a fair near the Meghna. Arif speaks to the children, telling them the story of how hope, unity, and action can bring life back — even to a dying river. And so, the river flowed again — not just with water, but with dreams.