Breaking into freedom: personal anecdotes of Bangladesh’s liberation war, as heard in the diaspora
As curated and edited by Tarun Rahman and Samira Sadeque
Every March 26th brings with it a reminder of the victory we fought for, crept into, on a bloodshed land as the seasons changed and returned. Between Falgun and Poush, on March 26 1971, we had gone from becoming half of a country, to a full, new nation. We had birthed. And in that birth, we lost — sons, mothers, brothers, fathers, uncles.
Growing up in the diaspora, our experience and understanding of the liberation war varies significantly from household to household. Though some of us grow up hearing stories of the war, many never hear of it.
For our parents and grandparents, these stories are complex and their implications profound. There is pride, of the accomplishments and the sacrifice offered to give rise to a liberated Bangladesh. There is sadness and torment, of the unspeakable pain and suffering experienced and witnessed. There is guilt, of leaving memories behind. There is uncertainty, of whether to burden our generation with the weight of war.
As time passes, inevitably, bits of memory of the war and the freedom, have begun to fade. Thus, there is responsibility, for our generation to remember this history and to acknowledge our story.
In this series, we heard from the diaspora — from Atlanta to Sydney — about the stories they heard growing up about 1971, and the impact these stories had on them.
From Rawalpindi to Agartala
By: Mir Aftabuddin Ahmed (Toronto, Canada)
“I flew my last mission on March 18, 1971. By then, the seeds had already been sown in my heart to join the Liberation War. On March 26, 1971, while I was in Rawalpindi, West Pakistan I had made my decision. I began planning out my escape to join our freedom struggle.” Read the full story here.
Years later, a memory rekindled from a movie
By: Jenn Pamela Chowdhury (Brooklyn, USA)
“My parents were newly married and were hoping to start a new life together, one filled with children, love, and laughter. Today, they’re happy grandparents. They watch CNN, browse through Facebook and FaceTime their family members. While they found ways to move forward, they never stopped looking back.” Read the full story here.
Voices of despair
By: Sara Alam (Lansdale, USA)
“And that is when it all began: extinguishing the flame of the hurricane lantern, abandoning our homes and heading for the trees. It did not take long until they started to open fire and we ran for our lives. Bullets whizzed over me as I crawled through a rice paddy field, the sky lighting up like fireworks.” Read the full story here.
But he never came back
By: Shahereen Shums Bhargava (Sydney, Australia)
“He didn’t return that evening. Nor the next day. Or the day after that. Ma, Khala and Khalu contacted anyone and everyone for information; we went on long drives chasing fruitless information.” Read the full story here.
What it means to stand on the right side of history
By: Moureen Ahmed (Sacramento, USA)
“On March 30, 1971, his entire family was taken from their home and imprisoned in a nearby school with other Bangladeshi captives. My dada, on the other hand, was separated from his family.” Read the full story here.
Continuing the legacies of those martyred and targeted
By: Ani Naser (Austin, USA)
“ After all, these were the Bangalis on the forefront of progress, innovation, and development. Each and every martyred intellectual, and those who survived, were a part of something bigger than themselves. I often think of the estimated 991 teachers killed by the Pakistani army, and of the legacies that ended in 1971.” Read the full story here.
A daughter’s pride
By: Malika Begum (Atlanta, USA)
“But when I joined, I was the only person from the whole Kanaighat/Chatul Bazar area. I learned how bad things really were. You don’t hear the terrible stories when you’re sheltered at home, you only heard them when you were out there, when you saw the death, the hunger, and the sadness. Once I saw it, I couldn’t leave, no matter how bad it got.” Read the full story here.
A family’s trials with war
By: Nuha Fariha (Philadelphia, USA)
“We were too young to understand what war was, why the school was always closing, why we had so little left to eat, why our mother was always crying or why our father never smiled anymore. The air around us smelled funny like something was burning for a long time on the outside stove.” Read the full story here.
