Ode to the Bravehearts
The mass uprising, laced with a unique fearlessness unknown to Bangladeshis at home and abroad for several decades now, did not conquer and overwhelm the government’s forces in the streets overnight. This fearlessness started with a few
Thirty-one days ago, a grainy video clip of the then-prime minister Sheikh Hasina emerged, showing the last moments before she fled the country. She could be seen at some airport, being escorted to a car while the blades of a military helicopter were still spinning.
Hasina resigned. The Awami League government was toppled. The shackles she installed across 'her' country over the last 15 years came loose, and the people? They were freed, free at last.
What followed and is still to come is another matter. However, the unprecedented toppling of the autocratic Hasina regime born out of the state-sanctioned July-August massacre is a historic feat — one that was primarily made possible by the students of Bangladesh.
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But this freedom came at a bloody cost.
The police, the Chhatra League and Jubo League (the ruling party's people), RAB and BGB conducted the massacre. Hasina believed she could curtail the mass uprising by sheer force, repeating the 2018 "Helmet Bahini" and police brutality episode. Back then it was about road safety. And the country saw the first spark of a mass student movement for the first time in decades.
This year it was about quota reform.
"We shoot one dead, or we wound one, and that is the only one that falls. The rest don't budge, sir. And that is why we are so scared and worried," said Mohammad Iqbal, a police officer, in a 43-second video clip, which emerged around mid-August.
Iqbal was referencing the protestors, who took to the streets, day in and day out in mammoth volumes. This continued throughout the nationwide curfews and the internet blackout in July, which spilled over into August on an even larger scale.
The 'sir' in the video was none other than the then-home minister Asaduzzaman Khan. The video clip showed several police officers, including the former Inspector General of Police (IGP) Chowdhury Abdullah Al Mamun.
The mass uprising, laced with a unique fearlessness unknown to Bangladeshis at home and abroad for several decades now, did not conquer and overwhelm the government's forces in the streets overnight.
This fearlessness started with a few, in the first days of the revolution in July (16-18 particularly), who moved the nation, who moved the needle, who shifted the collective spirit of a 170-million-strong population to a point of no return.
The first symbols of revolution
Abu Sayeed stood with his arms spread wide open, baring his chest and holding a cricket stump on 16 July. He stood in front of the police at a mere distance of 50 to 60 feet. He was standing in front of Rangpur's Begum Rokeya University — where he was one of the key coordinators of the Quota Reform Movement and a student in the English department.
Sayeed, at that moment, was facing Hasina's dictatorial arrogance alone. He did not flinch. He did not shudder. Captured in live footage by multiple news outlets, Sayeed stood his ground, arms open — and was shot at by the police's less lethal rounds.
The rounds later proved lethal.
For a few microseconds, he recoiled — not from fear but shock. He could not believe the extent of Hasina's reach into the minds of her police force. "Did they just shoot me? Am I hit?" is probably what he thought.
But he did not back down or retreat. He sprung up, readjusted his weight and took the same position again. Sayeed was shot twice more. With the third hit, he still walked, only to collapse moments later — when fellow protestors ran to his aid.
"Blood was pouring from his nose. The ongoing clash caused delays in getting him to the hospital," Anjan Roy, a friend of Sayeed, told Bangla daily Prothom Alo.
At the Rangpur Medical College Hospital, the doctors on duty declared him dead on arrival. Sayeed's death certificate says "brought dead" at 3:05 pm.
On 17 July, Sayeed was laid to rest in Babanpur Nalipara village of Rangpur's Pirganj upazila. His mother, Monowara Begum, could only say, "Go on son, stay well. Don't worry, I will come to you soon."
Even after his death, at his funeral prayers at Zafarpara Kamil Madrasa ground, Upazila Nirbahi Officer (UNO) Iqbal Hasan attempted to disrupt the students' wishes for prayers.
"The night the body of my brother was brought home from Rangpur University, local AL men came and said it had to be buried by night. The UNO said it had to be buried by 8am [on 17 July] at the latest," Abu Hossen, Sayeed's older brother, told TBS in an earlier report.
"We then said: Was our brother a terrorist? Why should he be buried in secrecy?" said Hossen and claimed his brother was buried in a hurry.
But Sayeed did not die in vain.
The 48-second-long footage was broadcast on TV and social media, and it spread like wildfire. It reached millions of Bangladeshis.
Sayeed was the first martyr of the revolution, which would, symbolically, spread on social media as red display profile photos. And out on the streets, literally, it would move students – and others – to the frontline.
The image of Sayeed standing up to Hasina's Awami League regime — its ails, morally bankrupt power and goons — started turning the key to the shackles that held down Bangladesh.
On 14 August, a gunshot victim at the capital's NITOR hospital, 20-year-old Arif Shilpi from Cumilla, recounted, "When I saw Abu Sayeed's video, I had goosebumps. I could not believe it. It kept me up at night and I cried out loud."
Arif took to the streets on 5 August. At Cumilla's Titas thana, he was shot in the leg. Arif saw at least two people shot dead in front of him by the police.
"We went out that day to war. We went to either die trying to liberate the country or return in victory," said Arif.
Abu Sayeed stood with his arms spread wide open, baring his chest and holding a cricket stump on 16 July. He stood in front of the police at a mere distance of 50 to 60 feet. Sayeed, at that moment, was facing Hasina's dictatorial arrogance alone. He did not flinch. He did not shudder.
Just like him, thousands were similarly impacted by Sayeed's ultimate sacrifice. Enraged, they broke out of the shackles and marched out to the streets, fearless against rubber bullets, pellets and live ammunition.
Sayeed was 25 years old.
On 18 July, when a student protestor scaled an armoured police van in Savar, the police shot at his chest at close range. They then dragged the body down and "threw it to the ground like a ragdoll," according to an earlier TBS report.
The approximately two-minute video emerged a few days after Yamin's death.
That was Shykh Aash-Ha-Bul Yamin, a student of computer science and engineering at the Military Institute of Science and Technology (MIST).
When the police shot at the protestors from their APCs, Yamin did not flee. But in a daring rush, he climbed up one police vehicle. In the captured footage, his injured body showed signs of life after he was thrown to the ground.
But he was left to die.
Yamin was 23 years old.
Far from Savar, clashes between the Asad Gate and Dhanmondi 27 points flared up. It was the government's men against primarily unarmed student protestors and civilians. Dhaka Residential Model College (DRMC) student Farhan Faiyaaz was there.
In a 10-second video clip, Farhan is seen being pulled up by fellow protestors. Farhan had his backpack on and looked eerily lifeless. He was surrounded by several young men — a few in their school uniforms, most also with backpacks and all looked utterly worried. In one of those faces, even the disbelief is palpable through the video clip.
Farhan was shot near Dhanmondi's Rapa Plaza, according to local media reports. Mohammadpur's City Hospital told English daily The Daily Star that Farhan was dead on arrival.
On 18 July, Nazia Khan, an extended family member, who shares close ties with Farhan, wrote, "This is my Farhan Faiyaaz. He is dead now. I want justice," on Facebook as a caption for a photo with Farhan.
Farhan Faiyaaz was 17 years old.
On the same day, a student was filmed aiding the quota reform protestors in Uttara. The student was walking through a crowd of protestors.
The student was holding two plastic bags — one full of 500ml water bottles and another full of biscuits. The perspiration stains on his t-shirt were clear on the video.
In the short 38-second clip, the student squints his eyes several times — agitated from exposure to tear gas. In one instance, he lifts his arm to wipe his eyes.
He was Mir Mahfuzur Rahman Mugdho. His steps are not agitated but always in motion in the clip. He turns his head back to call out to the people "Ai pani lagbe karo? Pani, pani!" [Does anyone need water? Water, water]," he screams out.
You can see several people coming forward and taking a water bottle from him. An act of kindness that will stand the test of time, perhaps, even a teaching moment for us — that the revolution is also Mugdho's kindness.
Perhaps there were others just like him across the country wading through the protesting crowds to aid them before they fell prey to Hasina's bullets. It is said that about 15 minutes after the video clip was filmed, Mudgho was shot dead.
He was completing his graduation in Mathematics from Khulna University and had already enrolled in an MBA programme at Bangladesh University of Professionals (BUP).
Mugdho was 25 years old.
"While the government is not releasing official statistics of fatalities and injuries, local media has estimated thousands have been injured and that the death toll has hit 115," reported The Guardian on 20 July, the first day of the nationwide curfew in Bangladesh.
Symbols of resistance
On 31 July, two photos emerged, taken at the High Court Mazar Gate area.
One is of 23-year-old Noor Hasan — glaring at a police officer and surrounded by several more men in uniform. Another is of 21-year-old Nusrat Jahan — with her hands up against a police van and demanding that the police let go of the students (including Noor) they had picked up for detention.
Nusrat was alone in her protest.
"Nusrat was gripping the bars of the police van tightly. The three policewomen came again and dragged her away. Nusrat cut her hand, causing her to lose her grip," according to an earlier TBS story.
Noor was taken to Shahbag police station. After protests, which included lawyers and university teachers, against the students' detention from that point, all (including Noor) were released later in the day.
Noor and Nusrat are Stamford University Bangladesh students who went to the High Court to participate in the "March for Justice."
Captured by the media, their photos — particularly Nusrat's — became a monumental representation of the student movement. The fearlessness that started with Sayeed seemed to have trickled down to each one of these student protestors, dropouts and day labourers, and then people from all walks of life.
Nusrat's photo instantly became emblematic of the collective spirit of the people against the ruthless Hasina regime.
On 18 July, Hasanatul Islam Faiyaz joined the protests in Matuail, chanting, "We will not let Abu Sayeed bhai's blood go in vain."
"Our teachers were with us, encouraging and helping us. We distributed over 20 cases of water bottles," Faiyaz told TBS in an earlier story.
On 24 July, Faiyaz was picked up from his home in Matuail by plainclothes men. His crime? He was accused in a police killing case. He was taken to Jatrabari police station where Faiyaz endured interrogation and torture to give up his friend's name — which he refused to share.
But the ordeal did not stop there because Hasina's men kept at it. On 27 July, Faiyaz was moved to the Detective Branch office and later in the day, he was escorted for his first lower court appearance in Dhaka in connection with a murder case.
At this moment, captured by the media, Faiyaz, wearing a cricket jersey, is seen handcuffed and tied with a rope.
Faiyaz wore a solemn but steadfast expression; his steadfastness encapsulated the spirit of resistance.
Faiyaz is 17 years old.
On 28 July, he made his second court appearance and then was sent to the Juvenile Development Centre, where, according to Faiyaz, "There were many students like me. There was a TV in each house there. Everyone knew me since they saw me on TV."
On 5 August, Faiyaz and others leapt in joy watching Hasina flee. He was released the following day.
Like Nusrat, Noor and Faiyaz, there are scores of people who valiantly took part in the movement — and fortunately also lived to tell their tale.
The recorded death toll currently is at least 750 from the July-August massacre and is expected to exceed 1,000. According to the Bangla daily Prothom Alo, the number of children and teenagers killed is at least 89, as of 24 August.
Meanwhile, at least a couple of thousands of people have been injured across the country – with scores still languishing in hospitals.
Nasif Tanjim and Kamrun Naher contributed to this report. Information and quotes from previously reported stories by TBS' Sakhawat Prince, Md Jahidul Islam, Ariful Hasan Shuvo and Miraz Hossain were used in this article.
