People here still call it a people's bridge, but in fact, it is a bridge of patience and resilience, where many generations have traded their safety to preserve the rhythm of life on both banks.
In the middle of a scorching summer afternoon, even though she is over eighty years old, Mrs. Ho Thi Thu quietly sits by the bridge to enjoy the cool breeze. Her hair is as white as ash, but her eyes still sparkle with nostalgia when she recalls the early days when villagers contributed bamboo, wood, and labor to build a bridge across the river. “After liberation, every family was poor, but we could not let the river separate us forever. So men and young people cut bamboo, women cooked, and that is how the first bridge was built…”, her voice trembled, like a flood of memories.
Over the past fifty years, the Nhung River has changed course, eroded and widened its bed, and the bamboo bridge has become longer and longer, sometimes seventy or eighty meters to connect the two banks. However, the bridge is still a bamboo bridge. No sturdy railings, no concrete pile foundation, just hastily joined bamboo trunks, tied tightly with fork ropes, withstanding the sun, rain, floods, storms, and even the trembling steps of the elderly and children.
Mr. Nguyen Cuoi, a man in his fifties who works as a construction worker, crosses the bridge every day to get to work on the other side of the river. One day, during the flood season in July, he slipped and fell halfway across the bridge, in the pitch-darkness and the sound of rushing water. “Luckily, I was able to cling to the bamboo bushes near the shore. My survival is thanks to the blessings of my ancestors,” he said, speechless, his trembling hands clutching his faded helmet.
But not everyone is as lucky as Mr. Cuoi. A few years ago, a boy of about eight or nine years old went to visit his grandfather in Rao hamlet. When crossing the bridge, he slipped and fell into the rushing water and never returned... Mourning fell, like an alarm bell about lurking danger. Yet people continued to cross the bridge, because it was the shortest and only way, connecting production, daily life, and family ties.
Mr. Cuoi’s family, like dozens of other households in the area, has farmland on both sides of the Nhung River. Every crop season, transporting fertilizer, machinery, and harvesting rice requires a detour through another commune before returning home, a distance of up to dozens of kilometers, instead of just 1 kilometer if crossing a bamboo bridge. “Many times when we see our house on the other side, we have to carry rice in circles, wasting gas and effort, and when it rains and winds, it’s even more miserable,” he lamented.
Sadly, the fragile bridge is washed away a few times a year during the flood season. In September and October, when the flood comes, the bridge is washed away with the current. Near Tet, people get together to rebuild it. In February and March, if there is heavy rain, the bridge is washed away again. People here are used to the scene of… washing away and then rebuilding, like a sad cycle of fate. The cost of rebuilding the bridge is not large, about 3 to 4 million VND each time, but the effort and worry are immeasurable. The old bridge was rebuilt at the end of 2024, and the bamboo had not yet dried when it sprouted green again, like a symbol of silent rebirth.
Mr. Hoang Viet Ha, who lives right at the head of the bridge, has witnessed many people falling off the bridge, into the river, and even dying. “This bridge is a lifeline. If it drifts away, it is rebuilt, but sometimes it is not rebuilt in time and the whole village becomes an oasis. Children going to school, sick people cannot cross, production stagnates…”, he looked at the water, pondering.
Rao Hamlet and Phuoc Hamlet, two small residential areas of Team 3, Mai Dan Village, consist of a total of more than 110 households. All of them live on the land on both banks of the Nhung River. Without a bridge, it is impossible to cultivate conveniently, to go to school, to the market, and to take sick people to the emergency room in time. The simple bamboo bridge has fulfilled its connecting mission for many years, but it is time to replace it with a sturdy bridge, not only for people to cross, but also for them to live, work, and build their lives with peace of mind.
Ms. Ho Thi Thu An, Head of Mai Dan village, said with concern: “People can contribute their efforts and bamboo to rebuild the bridge, but they cannot build a solid bridge themselves. We sincerely hope that the Government will pay attention and invest in building a solid bridge for people, to help hundreds of people escape the situation of wading through water, trembling on bamboo trunks and fearing accidents…”.
The time has come for the small bamboo bridge in the countryside to no longer be a symbol of uncertainty and disadvantage, but to become a beautiful memory – when it is replaced by a new, sturdy bridge connecting the lives of people on both banks of the Nhung River. A bridge that not only connects the land, but also connects the hearts of the people with the belief in the genuine concern of those in charge…
Source: https://cand.com.vn/doi-song/chiec-cau-tre-va-uoc-mo-noi-doi-bo-song-nhung-i768985/
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