It was the hushed tension of a courtroom bracing for history. The huge, air-conditioned room began to fill well before the scheduled 11:30am start of judgement deliberations. The ICT prosecutors and lawyers drifted in, while survivors injured in the July uprising, some student leaders, and human rights activists entered hastily through the doors.
Dozens of journalists, who had been waiting since early morning, were finally admitted shortly after 11:00am. By then, even the additional seating had been taken and people began lining the walls; there was still space to stand, but very little. The attorney general arrived with a cohort of lawyers, taking his place beside the ICT chief prosecutor and his team, who had already settled into their designated seats amid unprecedented security around the tribunal. State-appointed defence counsel Amir Hossain and his associates were also in place.
By 11:30am, it was packed to capacity.
There was early confusion over why Obaidul Muktadir Chowdhury, a bureaucrat-turned-Awami League politician, was in the dock instead of former Inspector General of Police Chowdhury Abdullah al-Mamun—the only accused in custody for the verdict involving his superiors: the former prime minister and former home minister. Muktadir, it soon transpired, was there in connection with a related case linked to the uprising.
Yet all curiosity was fixed on one figure: former prime minister Sheikh Hasina, who had fashioned herself into an iron-willed leader but fled the country in the face of the July uprising. Most in the room sensed where the judgement was heading, but they came to witness it unfold in front of their eyes.
They waited—curiosity held in the dense silence. The three-member ICT bench finally entered at 12:32pm, an hour behind schedule. Moments later, IGP Mamun took his place in the glass-enclosed dock—clean-shaven, dressed in a half-sleeve shirt, visibly more tense than on previous days. He sat quietly on a simple chair, eyes fixed downward.
Just before proceedings began, Chief Prosecutor Tajul Islam sought permission to broadcast the verdict live. The court agreed. Pens immediately began scratching across reporters’ notebooks, while everyone else leaned in, listening with a mix of anticipation and emotion—particularly the victims of Hasina’s iron-fisted rule. For Mamun, it was a far more personal ordeal. Hands resting on his lap, he barely shifted his gaze from the floor.
Following introductory remarks, the chairman of the ICT bench invited the two other justices to read their portions of the judgement—a process that lasted nearly an hour. Throughout, Mamun did not lift his head. He blinked occasionally but never looked towards the bench or the large digital screens displaying the proceedings.
At 1:50pm, Justice Md Golam Mortuza Mozumder began the concluding section. The room tightened around him. Methodically, he recited the charges, outlined the evidence, and delivered the court’s conclusion–the material was sufficient to establish guilt.
There was no audible reaction when Hasina was sentenced to life imprisonment for incitement and instigation of killings at a press conference at Gonobhaban on 14 July 2024. The shock came moments later. When the second charge drew a sentence of death, the courtroom erupted –shouts and applause bouncing off the polished walls. The attorney general rose sharply, reminding everyone to respect the sanctity of the court and remain silent.
The former home minister also received the death penalty, met with low murmurs. But journalists and visitors were more focused on the fate of former police chief Mamun—whose cooperation with investigators, guilty plea, and apology had been pivotal. Taking these into account, the court sentenced him to five years’ imprisonment.
For the first time, Mamun, listening motionlessly, raised his head. He looked around the courtroom—not smiling, but visibly relieved. The verdict appeared lighter than he had expected. Security officers then escorted him away.
Many had predicted the broad contours of the outcome, but its finality still landed hard. A former prime minister—long accused of clinging to power through successive sham elections—had now been judged for her role in the events that triggered the July uprising. Her greatest miscalculation had been dismissing a student protest over job quotas as insignificant. Within 36 days, that spark became a popular revolt that toppled her 15-year authoritarian rule.
