Opinion: One student’s journey to freedom in Bangladesh

The summer of 2024 will forever be etched in the history of Bangladesh as a time of tremendous upheaval, struggle and, ultimately, triumph. The student protests that erupted in June of this year were not merely a reaction to the reinstatement of a 30% quota for the descendants of freedom fighters in government job recruitment. They were a powerful assertion of our collective will against a system that had for too long stifled the voices of the youth, denied us our rights and clung to power with ruthless determination.
As a student of the Department of Japanese Studies at the University of Dhaka, I found myself at the heart of this movement. Alongside my fellow students, I became an activist, a voice for change and a leader in a struggle that would ultimately bring down a 15-year dictatorship. This was not just a fight for the future of our generation but a battle for the soul of Bangladesh — a battle we could not afford to lose.
The Supreme Court’s decision to reinstate the quota system was the final straw for many of us. The quota had been abolished earlier, providing hope that merit would finally be the sole criterion for government jobs. The reinstatement felt like a betrayal, an attempt to cling to outdated and unjust practices. The students of Bangladesh, who had long felt marginalized and voiceless, took to the streets in protest.
From the very first day of the protests, I knew that this was a movement that would define our future. I joined thousands of students from across the country in peaceful demonstrations, using social media to amplify our message. But as the government responded with force, deploying police, the Rapid Action Battalion and even the military, it became clear that this would not be a peaceful struggle.
The government’s response to our protests was brutal. On July 16, the violence escalated to a level that none of us could have anticipated. At least five students were killed in clashes with law enforcement, and within days, the death toll had risen to over 100. The violence was not confined to the streets; it seeped into every corner of our lives. Educational institutions were shut down, a nationwide curfew was imposed, and the internet was cut off, isolating us from the world.
During this time, I could no longer stay in my university hall or even my own home. The threat of being targeted by the Bangladesh Chhatra League and other forces loyal to Sheikh Hasina’s government was very real. I found refuge in the house of a Japanese businessman who graciously offered me a safe place to stay. From this sanctuary, I continued to support the movement, reporting the atrocities to international media, engaging with diplomats and rallying support from global agencies.
Despite the government’s attempts to crush the movement, our resolve only grew stronger. By July 19, the government had imposed a nationwide curfew and deployed the army, but the protests continued. The streets of Dhaka and other major cities became battlegrounds, with students and citizens alike standing up against the tyranny of the state. The deaths, the injuries and the arrests only fueled our determination.
I remember the day when the protests reached a fever pitch — Aug. 5. Thousands of us stormed the prime minister’s residence, demanding an end to the dictatorship. It was a moment of unparalleled courage and unity, a testament to the strength of our movement. The news that Sheikh Hasina had fled the country spread like wildfire, and we knew that victory was within our grasp.
On Aug. 8, a new chapter in Bangladesh’s history began as Nobel Peace Prize winner Muhammad Yunus was sworn in as the head of a caretaker government. The oppressive regime that had ruled our country for 15 long years was finally overthrown, and the credit for this victory belongs to the students of Bangladesh. We had not only fought for our rights but for the very future of our nation.
This movement was not just about removing a dictator; it was about reclaiming our country from the clutches of fear and oppression. It was about ensuring that the voices of the youth are heard and respected. It was about building a Bangladesh that is just, fair and free for all its citizens.
Looking back on those tumultuous months, I am filled with a sense of pride and humility. I was just one of many who stood up to the forces of oppression, but together, we achieved something extraordinary. My role in the movement was not just as a participant but as a leader, a communicator and a bridge between the protesters and the international community.
I used every platform available to me — social media, international media outlets, diplomatic channels — to raise awareness of the atrocities being committed against the students and the people of Bangladesh. I knew that the world needed to see the truth of what was happening in our country, and I made it my mission to ensure that our struggle was not in vain.
During this time, I faced many challenges, not least of which was the constant threat to my life. But I was not deterred. The cause was too important, the stakes too high. I found strength in the solidarity of my fellow students, in the unwavering support of the international community and in the knowledge that we were on the right side of history.
As we move forward into this new era for Bangladesh, I urge the youth of our nation to remember the lessons of 2024. We have shown that change is possible, that even the most entrenched systems can be challenged and overthrown when we stand together. But our work is not done. The future of Bangladesh depends on our continued vigilance, our commitment to justice and our willingness to fight for what is right.
Let this be a reminder to all — never underestimate the power of the youth, for we are the future, and the future is ours to shape.
MD Ayman Mahmud is a student at the University of Dhaka in Bangladesh.