by Rifa Tusnia Mona (Dhaka, Bangladesh)
As the eldest child, I had the privilege of watching my siblings grow—my brother, six years younger, and my youngest sister, still just a baby. I was there for them whenever my parents were busy, and gradually, without realizing it, I shifted roles. I went from being the one protected on the inner side of the road to being the one who instinctively walked on the outside, protecting others.
By the time I entered university, I felt ready to take on the world. I was driven, ambitious, and full of confidence. It felt like a long-prepared plane finally lifting off the runway—a moment where possibility stretched endlessly ahead.
But just when I thought my life was about to take flight, Crohn’s disease collided with my plans. I barely managed to finish my degree. Before falling ill, I was certain I could secure a job after graduation; I knew my skills and believed they would carry me through. But chronic illness changed that confidence. In my country, remote work often means vulnerability to exploitation, and without my own computer, even that option felt difficult. What frightened me most, however, was burdening my already struggling family with my medical expenses.
There were many moments when I felt my story might end there. I am not someone who easily expresses pain publicly. Yet Crohn’s forced me to ask for help, to depend on others, and in doing so, I discovered something I had never experienced before—what I now call ‘falsified empathy’.
Falsified empathy is empathy that exists only in theory—not in people’s actions. I once worked remotely for a company in Bangladesh. During a month of hospitalization, I unexpectedly received my full salary. But later, HR informed me it was an error and that my next month’s entire salary was deducted because I was unable to work while being hospitalized the previous month. From the next month, I started working remotely and was getting paid half of the salary I got paid while working on site. I raised a complaint, but nothing changed, so I resigned. Company policy required me to work an additional month to ease the transition, which I did— although minimally.
At the end of that month, I went to collect my final month’s payment. The funny part was, when I went to receive the salary, they said that the HR did some wrong calculation and I will still receive some salary from that month! What they didn’t mention was that the amount coincidentally matched the unpaid salary I had earned from my final month of work. In other words, they framed it as an act of understanding and kindness—when in reality, it was merely the payment I was already entitled to. And before leaving, they made sure I signed a non-disclosure agreement.
I share this very personal experience because young people living with chronic illnesses are often vulnerable—and some individuals or organizations may disguise exploitation behind a mask of compassion. They are the “wolves in disguise.” Staying aware and cautious is essential, especially when life puts you in a weakened position.
That’s all from me for this month. Thank you for reading my story. Next month will be my final article of the year, and I promise to bring you something hopeful and uplifting to close the year on a positive note.
Featured photo by Christina & Peter from Pexels.
