Spotlight

A Dauntless Fighter

Ahmed Istehad

THE saloon car was parked near one edge of the highway bridge. Through the broken rails of the bridge, I descended downwards, carefully, to arable land. I tucked my trousers and waded through the slippery mud with frantic pleasure. The green elegant rice field, beautiful mustard plant overflowing with bright yellow flowers and huge sunflowers are adjacent to the narrow path that leads to Sarkerbari of Golora in Manikganj. The house was thatched with the walls of straw fixed with iron cords to cane-like thin woods. I gently knocked the obsolete wooden doors at least five times and then battered it as no response came. The door was finally opened by an old lady as she retaliated with strict words for battering the door. I politely apologized and shared my real intention. 'Are you Ayesha Begum?', I queried with wonder. A sudden boost of emotional power made her 68 years old body stand erect without the stick and she said 'Have you ever seen a corpse? I saw many of them. No houses, nothing but jungle with stench of rotten bodies, numerous vultures and wolves feeding on people's flesh. Those nefarious barbarians separated husbands and wives, children and mothers. They took the girls to their camp, massacred the men with bullets, smashed babies from mother's laps, plundered our foods, burned our roofs and hoisted their flag on this pure soil.

The day I saw my husband's dead body, lying flat, staring at the sky, wearing a white T-shirt coloured with clotted blood, I did not have the courage to stay and ran to the newly formed Freedom Fighter's Camp.

I was recruited as a cook there. I served the fighters with food. I urged Commander Salam to take me to missions, as I longed for revenge for my husband's death and my two lost children. Though they did not involve me directly in operations, I went to several battlefields supplying ammos, weapons and bombs.”

She stooped down to pick up her stick and hobbled to her rickety bed. Heading back, I saw the Sun appeared blurred on greenish dark evening contrary to the freedom fighters who had surpassed the dark and gifted us a new day.

(Writer Grade 9,Willes Little flower School)

There is a collection home named “Shoheed Smriti Songrohosala” to protect the real history of our liberation war and other history. But till now this archive has only 29 academics that died in liberation war, 1971.

If you visit Rajshahi University, you will be surprised to see the unsung heroes' graveyard in a poor condition. Inside the university bus stand, there is an unnamed graveyard of a day worker, who died in the time of liberation war. The graveyard of martyred Prof. Sukh Ranjan Somadder is situated in front of the central library. There is a graveyard of Mohammad Ali, who was the employee of campus. According to the archive, there are some signs of graveyards at Monnuzzan hall and its premise.

There is a mass graveyard at Rajshahi University to remember our heroes for which we gained our liberation war. RU employees S.M. Saiful , Wazed Ali, Idris Ali were killed as a part of mass killing. Sources also said that a lot of skeletons were found near the Zuberi Bhaban and the Tukitaki premise. The Pakistani forces killed Psychology dept. Prof. Mir Abdul Kaioum, employee of RU engineering section Kalim Uddin, Mohonlal at the Padma premise after they were taken from campus.

Night guard of administrative building Abdur Razzaq, RU student Abdul Mannan, Amirul Huda Zinnah, Golam Sarwar, Prodip Kumar Saha were killed at Rangpur and Dinajpur while they were fighting against the Pak military. There is no sign of Prof. Habibur Rahman, employee Sheikh Emajuddin, Abul Chowdhury, Shafikur Rahman, Nuru Miah, Abdul Wahab, Abdul Malek and others after they were kidnapped by Pak military and their associates. We are proud of the contribution to our liberation by Rajshahi University's officials, teachers and students.

(Student of Mass Communication and Journalism department, RU)