Dear Editor,
As an international student, whenever I am asked to introduce my country, I proudly say that we are the nation of Bangladesh, a country that fought valiantly for its mother language and for its freedom. Growing up, I immersed myself in the history of our liberation war, marveling at the immense sacrifices made by our people to speak our mother language, Bangla. This is who we are as a nation – we fight against injustice across decades. We are the nation that fought fiercely for our mother language, Bangla, in 1952, a battle that laid the foundation for our identity and unity. Decades later, in 1971, we waged a war of liberation against oppression and achieving independence at the cost of countless lives sacrificed in the name of freedom.
Yet, as I stand here today, reflecting on our journey since independence, I cannot help but question: Have we truly achieved the freedom we fought so hard for? Is our nation free from corruption, inequality and the stifling grip of oppression? The bitter reality is far from the dreams we envisioned. We find ourselves shackled by systemic injustice, where the voice of the people is often silenced, and dissent is met with brutal force.
As I navigate through a whirlwind of emotions – anger, frustration and profound sadness – about the situation in my homeland, I am also filled with immense pride. I am proud of all the students and citizens who are risking their lives for justice, standing up against fascism and oppression. The recent protests in Bangladesh began as a movement for quota reform but have since evolved into something much larger and more significant.
The quota system in Bangladesh reserves more than half of government jobs, leaving only a small fraction for most applicants. The protests erupted after the High Court reinstated the 30% quota for descendants of freedom fighters from the 1971 war of independence. While the intention behind this system was to provide opportunities for underrepresented groups, it has become a source of frustration for many. University students, who represent the future of our nation, feel excluded and marginalized by this system, which benefits a small, politically connected elite.
When students initially took to the streets demanding reform of the quota system, they did so with hope and determination. Their voices echoed through the avenues of Dhaka, resonating with the aspirations of a generation longing for merit-based opportunities. However, their peaceful protests were met with unprecedented brutality. Innocent students were killed, the internet was shut down nationwide, and many were arrested simply for exercising their right to free speech., turning what began as a call for justice into a harrowing struggle for survival.
What started as a protest against a discriminatory quota system has evolved into a nationwide movement for systemic change. It transcends age, profession, gender and religion, uniting people from all walks of life under a common banner: the pursuit of a Bangladesh where freedom of speech is cherished, justice is upheld, and every voice is heard.
As I watch these events unfold from afar, I am both heartbroken and inspired. Heartbroken by the cruel violence and repression inflicted on our students but inspired by their unwavering courage and resolve. I stand in solidarity with them, as do many Bangladeshi students around the world.
We are raising our voices, spreading awareness, and calling for international support. We need the world to know what is happening in Bangladesh. We need global solidarity to pressure the authorities to stop the violence. This is a critical moment in our history, and we cannot afford to remain silent. Together, we can bring about the change that our country so desperately needs.
We are not just fighting for quota reform; we are fighting for our future. We are fighting for a Bangladesh where we can speak, live, and thrive. The journey is not easy, and the challenges are immense, but the spirit of our nation is indomitable. We will continue to fight until we achieve the true independence that we have long yearned for.
Afsana Alam is a graduate student at Ohio University. Please note that the views and opinions of the columnists do not reflect those of The Post. Want to talk more about it? Let Afsana know by emailing her at aa644422@ohio.edu.
