Her name was Laboni, she died making our clothes.

Three years ago the Rana Plaza factory in Bangladesh collapsed killing 1,134 people and injuring more than 2,500 more.

Sometimes when I deliver the information above in a lecture I say,”killed 1,134 workers.” As if a worker is a cog without a family, friends, and a complex life just like ours. I cringe at the word workers passing my lips. It’s vital that we all remember that people make our things.

Sons. Daughters. Fathers. Mothers. Aunts. Uncles. Best friends. These are the lives that were snuffed out by the unregulated manic growth of the Bangladeshi garment industry trying to feed consumers ever-hungry for cheaper prices and throwaway fashions.

Today marks three years since the disaster, and I hope you’ll join me in doing one thing. Just one.

Promise?

Read this story, “Her Names was Laboni” by Claudio Montesano Casillas in Roads&Kingdom. Take in the photos of the village Laboni left to seek the opportunity of the factories in Dhaka, see where she went to school, meet her husband and her father. Learn a little about the life of 1 of the 1,134 victims.

Know her name.

Laboni.