It was on the 5th August 2018 that I was picked up from my flat. It led to torture, remand, over 100 days in jail and eventually bail on the 6th attempt.
What do I remember of my incarceration? One of my endearing memories is during a power cut (which happens regularly in this high security (KPI) location), when I would hear one of the prisoners sing a song both Rahnuma and I are very fond of. A Baul song composed by Ukil Munshi on the death of his beloved. The song “Shona Chand Pakhi” was made famous by the bard Bari Siddique. Songs are always difficult to translate, but here is a crude attempt:
My tender moon my tender bird Do you slumber as I call, You and I, entwined we were Forevermore and all
Why must you, so quiet stay Open your eyes, my gentle one So quiet you are as I call today Its my call, don’t slumber on
Bulbul, Parakeet, Mynah So many names to you I call You broke the chains and left me Where do I stay where do I fall?
This love of ours, as I call and you sleep Sun and moon witness in the sky Suddenly you leave me all alone I am left with the question why?
How do you persuade a government to release a prisoner, however wrongfully incarcerated, if it doesn’t want to cooperate?
Thousands of signatures, tweets, Instagram and Facebook posts. Dozens of articles. Then there are the rallies: from Kathmandu to New York, from Rome to New Delhi, London to Mumbai. Week by week, hundreds of people are gathering in public spaces to protest against the incarceration in Dhaka, Bangladesh, of photographer, journalist, teacher and activist Shahidul Alam.
Among the most headline-grabbing initiatives is Wasfia Nazreen’s sky-high stunt. The mountaineer and social activist — the first Bangladeshi to climb the Seven Summits — flew over Manhattan in an airplane trailing a banner that read “Free Shahidul Alam. Free our teachers.” Another high-profile intervention was made by artist Tania Bruguera, who was herself locked up in her native Cuba after she offended the state censors, and recently devoted her Tate Modern exhibition in London to a display of Alam’s photographs. “What keeps you going when you’re in prison,” Bruguera told me, “are your principles. And the support of others around you.” Continue reading “Shahidul Alam: Caught in the Crossfire of Bangladesh’s Fledgling Democracy”
No heaven, no hell, no everafter, do I care for when I’m gone Peace here I seek, in this sand and soil, this place where I was born As oceans deep, as deserts wide, as forests and fences loom As children die, as lovers sigh, no cross, no epitaph, no tomb…
I am unable to individually thank all the people who stood by me in those dark days, but I hope you will accept the heartfelt appreciation by me and the many others who were at the forefront of the fight to get me released. The case still stands and I face a potential maximum sentence of fourteen years. So the fight to drop the case must continue.
Shahidul Alam says he was not allowed to have a lawyer, despite his demands. And that he was beaten by his captors who wanted to coerce him into giving a statement. Video via Arfun A. #freeshahidulpic.twitter.com/Y57PatOVAY