Chapter 95 — Shrimp Street Without Name

Two weeks after the retrial verdict, when news of Mr. Do Van Tien's exoneration spread throughout the community and gradually subsided into an accepted part of local history, Ms. Sau made a decision that she had long cherished but had never dared to make for the past ten years.

“I want to re-hang the old sign of the cooperative,” she said to Hai Yen one morning, while they were both cleaning up the dried shrimp stall at the market. "My mother has kept that sign for the past ten years, kept it in storage, not daring to bring it out for fear of bringing back painful memories and the judgmental eyes of everyone around her."

Hai Yen, although surprised by this decision, immediately felt the profound meaning behind it. “I think this is a great idea, Mom,” she said, her voice full of support. “It's time we no longer have to hide or be ashamed of the name Channel Three.”

Together, mother and son found the old sign in the warehouse, a wooden board that had faded over time but still retained the sharp handwriting engraved with the words "Ken Ba Shrimp Farming Cooperative" along with a simple stylized shrimp symbol that Mr. Tien designed himself from the first days of establishment. Mrs. Sau cleaned every speck of dust on the board with loving care, as if she were taking care of a sacred keepsake.

The day she re-hung the sign, Hai Yen invited all those who had accompanied her throughout the long journey to witness — not only family and close friends, but also former shrimp farmers who were members of the cooperative, who now began to talk with real excitement about the possibility of restoring the cooperative model in a new direction.

When the sign was hung back in its original position, right at the entrance to the pond area under renovation, a spontaneous round of applause rang out from the small crowd that had gathered to witness the moment. Mrs. Sau stood silently looking at the board, tears rolling down her cheeks, not tears of pain, but tears of a long-awaited recovery.

"Ten years ago," she said, turning back to look at the gathering crowd, her voice trembling but full of strength, "I had to watch this sign being taken down in shame, amid the alienated eyes of people who were once neighbors and close friends. Today, thanks to the perseverance of my daughter and the support of all of you, this sign is hung again, not as a symbol of a sad past, but as a promise for a good future. more.”

Mr. Tam, supported by his son to stand up from his wheelchair for a brief but meaningful moment, spoke up from the crowd. “I still remember the day this cooperative was founded,” he said, his voice full of nostalgia. "It was one of the happiest days in the whole region. Today, seeing it revived, I feel like I can relive those beautiful days again."

Many other old shrimp farming households also took turns speaking up, sharing their own memories of the days when the cooperative was still operating, about both the difficulties and pride associated with the name Kenh Ba. The gathering gradually became an opportunity for the whole community to look back on the past together, not to mourn what was lost, but to find strength and inspiration for a new beginning.

Kien, standing next to Hai Yen during the ceremony, held hands she, whispered. "You have done more than you ever thought you could do, Ms. Yen. You not only found justice, but also healed an entire community."

Hai Yen smiled, looked around at the radiant faces surrounding her, feeling a rare, complete happiness. She knows that the road ahead to truly restore Kenh Ba as a modern, transparent and sustainable cooperative model is still very long, but today, with the old sign hanging back in the afternoon sunlight, she feels that the most important first step has been taken completely and meaningfully.

After the ceremony, when the crowd gradually dispersed, a small group of former shrimp farmers, led by a middle-aged man named Hai, who had been vice president of the cooperative under Mr. Tien, came to meet Hai Yen privately to discuss the restoration plan in more detail.

"We discussed it together," Mr. Hai said, his voice filled with seriousness, "and we all agreed that, if you take the lead, we are willing to contribute capital, land, and effort to restore the cooperative according to the new model. But we also want to ask you one thing — are you really willing to shoulder this responsibility? This is not a small decision, especially when you still have your job as an inspector."

Hai Yen pondered for a moment before answering, clearly realizing the weight of this question. “I thought a lot about it,” she said. "And I have decided, I will resign from my job as surveyor after completing the necessary handover procedures. This is no longer a side project for me — this is a direct continuation of everything I have fought to regain. I want to dedicate my time and dedication to rebuilding Canal Three, not as it once was, but as a better version, worthy of the painful lessons we have all learned."

That sincere and determined answer made Mr. Hai and his companions nod in agreement, their eyes filled with confidence. “Then let's start next week,” he said. "I will convene a meeting with all interested households to officially discuss the organizational structure and specific implementation plans."

When the group left, Kien walked over to stand next to Hai Yen, his eyes both surprised and full of support. “Did you really decide to quit your job as an inspector?” he asked. “That's a big decision.”

“I know,” Hai Yen replied, turning to look at him with a confident smile. "But the forensic work fulfilled its mission for me — it brought me back here, helped me find the truth. Now, my new mission is to build, not just investigate and expose. I want to spend the next part of my life making what my father dreamed of come true."

Kien nodded, took her hand, his eyes filled with pride and respect for this courageous decision. “I will support you fully,” he said, “in whatever you choose to do next with your life.”

That evening, when Hai Yen shared her decision with her mother, Mrs. Sau initially appeared worried about this big change. “Are you sure?” she asked. "My job as an inspector is stable, with a clear future. Rebuilding the cooperative from scratch is something full of risk and uncertainty.”

“I know, mom,” Hai Yen replied, sitting down next to her mother. “But I've spent the past year trying to find the truth about the past. Now, I want to spend time building a future worthy of that truth. If you go back to your inspection work as if nothing has changed, you will always feel like you missed out on something more important.”

Mrs. Sau was silent for a long time, looking at her daughter with both worried and proud eyes. “Your father,” she said finally, her voice gentle, “always said that shrimp farming is not just a job, but a way of life, an attachment to the land and water, to the community around you. If you really feel that in your heart, then I believe you have made the right decision.”

Hai Yen hugged her mother, feeling her sincere support despite the slight worry in her words. “I'll be careful, Mom,” she promised. "I will build everything methodically, with a clear plan, not letting emotions overwhelm the necessary caution."

In the following days, Hai Yen began the process of handing over her job as an inspector, and spent time doing further research on successful agricultural and fisheries cooperative models in other regions, looking for lessons that could be applied to the Canal Ba restoration plan. She also contacted a number of non-governmental organizations specializing in supporting sustainable agricultural development, seeking cooperation and technical support for this ambitious project.

Every step, no matter how small, gives her a feeling of building and looking forward to the future, a welcome change after a long journey focused on facing and correcting the mistakes of the past.