It has been a year since the July Uprising- moments of defiance that spilled from the university campuses into the streets across Bangladesh. What began as a protest against the unjust quota system soon escalated into a confrontation between the people and the state. The violence that followed left many dead, many more injured and countless minds scarred for life. Those who stood on the frontlines now speak quietly about sleepless nights, panic attacks and bear an unshakable sense of vulnerability.
“I still hear the helicopters when I close my eyes,” said Jewel, a second-year Television, Film and Photography student at Dhaka University. “The sound doesn’t seem to leave me especially because I saw how bullets were sprayed from them to kill people in their own houses. A little girl was shot dead on her own terrace from a helicopter”
When asked about the memory that refuses to leave his mind, Jewel goes back to the curfew days. “The whole Paltan area was dead quiet then. It was heavily patrolled and guarded both by the police and the army. I was in an office there with some friends. During a block raid, we had to turn off all the lights so that they would think that no one was inside. We were terrified.”
Masnoon, a second-year BBA student at North South University shared a story of similar terror. “I saw death in front of my eyes on August 4. We were being attacked by tear shells and sound grenades. We were also being shot by both the police and the thugs of Awami League. Suddenly, there was a loud gunshot, and the guy in front of me dropped to the ground. He never moved again. That scene is etched in my mind and is something I cannot get rid of even if I try.”
When asked whether their universities helped them cope afterward, by supporting them with professional mental health guidance, both answered in the negative.
“The counselling centre was not adequate for such a big university,” said Jewel. “It didn’t even have enough staff. And the students that went there were not inspired by the sessions.”
Masnoon admitted to never going. “There was a counselling centre in our university, but I never really went there,” he said.
Instead, they shared their experiences mostly with friends and family, though there were some memories they kept to themselves. “I spoke to my parents about it and a few friends. But there were some things that were very hard to even share,” said Jewel.
“I discussed things with the friends I was in the protest with. However, they were all going through a similar situation as mine,” said Masnoon.
Walking through Dhaka University or North South University today, it might seem like life has returned to normal. Classes run as scheduled, tea stalls are busy, and new posters cover the walls replacing the graffiti or slogans from last July. But for many, these campuses themselves are the stark reminders of the horrifying memories from last year.
When asked if they feel healed now, Masnoon’s answer is complicated. “I felt great on August 5 when Sheikh Hasina fled the country. We all felt victorious then. But now, seeing things go back to the way they once were, I feel terrible. It reminds me of the sacrifices and terror of those days covered in bloodshed.”
Jewel’s answer was more direct. “I don’t think I have healed. I can still hear the helicopters sometimes. I still visualise the bloody face of the sister after being beaten by Chhatra League activists. Whenever I see injustice around us, it just takes me back to those days again.”
“How can I heal when things don’t change from how they used to be? What did we even fight for then?” questions Jewel. “Even now, different political forces are trying to replicate the previous fascist regime. Things stay the same, while innocent and brave people lose their lives.”
Shamim Shopno, a 29-year-old journalist also reflects on the issue “My colleague Atikur Rahman was shot on the morning of August 5. An honest and pleasant guy, he was not even active during the protests. It was his day off and he simply went to get medicines from a local store for his sick daughter. That is when he was shot on the head.”
Atikur Rahman left behind two little children. “I literally broke down when I saw his kids after the incident. It has already been a year, and I still can’t forget the look on the faces of his children,” he added.
The July uprising remains for people both a source of pride and a lingering wound. Even though the blood on the streets and the voices that once shook the air have now faded into the pages of history books, the feelings of fear and rebellion from those days still live on in the heart of the people of this country.
That bloody month and its events have left the whole nation with a collective trauma. It is evident that it will still take us some more time to heal and move on from that. Meanwhile, as Jewel puts it, “The current and future governments must work to shape our country in the way we had envisioned during those days. We owe this to the martyrs and those very days. Only then can we all heal.”