“We refused to back down, even with bullets flying”

When protests against the quota system in government jobs erupted in Bangladesh in June and July, students believed they were opposing a system they saw as discriminatory. They never imagined that their call for reform would be met with the brutal force of the ruling party’s maces and the bullets of law enforcement.

What began as a peaceful demand for change quickly turned into a violent confrontation with the state. For 36 days, the students found themselves at the front of a deadly battle. They were killed in the streets, next to their universities and even in their homes. His companions were shot down, many of them blinded, some of them lost their limbs or other vital organs of the body.

I was put into a rickshaw van by other protesters. But then they realized that the rickshaw puller was already dead after taking a bullet at some point. Then one of the protestors took it upon himself to pedal the rickshaw and took me to the Uttara Adhunik Medical College Hospital.

— Abdul Aziz JU Student

For the students involved, the trauma is profound. They faced a harsh reality where death was no longer an abstract fear, but a vivid and horrifying presence.

Among them was Jahangirnagar University protest coordinator Abdul Aziz, who fought alongside others on July 18 in Uttara, one of the deadliest days of the uprising.

A van then arrived to collect the bodies. They were piling all the bodies inside. They picked me up too, thinking I was dead. Once the van was far enough away from the police, I pushed the bodies aside and shouted: I didn’t die! I didn’t die!

— Kamrul Hasan Khan Madrasa hafez

Five protesters were killed when the police and the Rapid Action Battalion opened fire on the protesters in Uttara.

More than 500 were injured that day, he said.

“We refused to back down, even with the bullets flying,” he added.

At one point, law enforcement officers fired at his head, he said.

He turned just in time to dodge a fatal headshot, but the bullet shattered the glass and hit his ear, he said.

“The other protesters put me in a rickshaw van. But then they realized that the rickshaw shooter was already dead after being shot at some point.”

“Then one of the protesters took it upon himself to pedal the rickshaw and take me to the Uttara Adhunik Medical College Hospital,” he said.

Aziz was speaking at a webinar titled “Confronting Death: The Experience of Students Against Discrimination” organized by the Forum for Bangladesh Studies in Dhaka yesterday.

Although Aziz required urgent neurological care, he was denied further treatment at the facility.

“The head of neurosurgery refused to treat me. Awami League supporters were looking for me,” he shared.

Under cover of darkness, Aziz was taken to another hospital, but the damage was done. His ear was severely infected. Forced to leave without finishing treatment, he now lives with the lasting effects of that day.

For others like Sayem Khan, a student at East West University, the July protests were just as traumatic.

Living near Jatrabari, the biggest flashpoints, Sayem saw the brutal crackdown first hand. “I saw about 60 people die,” he said.

The sounds of gunshots echoed through their home, as his mother sat in constant fear, always wondering if her son would be the next young man to come home in a coffin.

He remembers visiting families of martyrs, witnessing their pain, as funeral processions became a regular scene in Jatrabari. “The police even sent the bodies outside Dhaka for burial,” he added.

The last days of the revolt were no less harrowing. Sayem was back at the front in early August, just as the police were opening fire.

“One bullet missed me but hit the person in front. He went down instantly,” he recalled.

Hafez Kamrul Hasan Khan of Madinatul Ulum Madrasah, narrowly escaped death when police opened fire under Jatrabari flyover on August 4. “Two people collapsed on top of me after being shot. They died.”

“Even with two bodies on top of me, I didn’t move, for fear of being next,” he said.

“Then a van came to pick up the bodies. They were piling all the bodies into it. They picked me up too, thinking I was dead. Once the van was far enough away from the police, I pushed the bodies away and went shout… – I didn’t die! I didn’t die!

Dhaka University student Fahim Shahriar, targeted by the Chatra League and later by state intelligence agencies, also shared his experience.

“On July 24, when Nahid Islam was admitted to Gana Sasthya Hospital after being brutally beaten, I was tasked to collect Tk 20,000 for his treatment. When I left the hospital, I noticed that the officers of ‘intelligence was following me,’ he said.

“I had to change locations frequently,” he added.

The story of Momtaz Soma, a student at Begum Rokeya University, echoed the experiences of many others.

She is friends with Abu Sayed, whose death sparked the mass uprising.

On the day Sayed was killed, even female students were not spared, he said.

A group of them, along with two students, took refuge in an abandoned toilet on the side of the road, but when they came out they were attacked again.

“The violence seemed never-ending; even those who had already been injured were not spared,” he said.