Whispers of Victory: 33rd July Anthem

Bangladesh waved its victory on 5th August, also known as the mighty 36th July. We all know that story, right? But many of us didn't witness the revolution on July 33. After a long, bloody curfew enforced by the autocrat, the quota movement slowly resumed on July 31. However, the movement started losing momentum, as no mainstream media were broadcasting the events, and the internet was filtered.

Little did the government know that Gen-Z was always one step ahead. They avoided mainstream media and public social platforms to announce their upcoming protests, relying instead on private groups and encrypted platforms. While many dismissed these announcements as rumors, government propaganda, or even traps set for protesters, small-scale protests took place nationwide on July 31st and August 1st.

I joined the protest in front of Doel Chattar on August 1st. To be honest, the turnout wasn't impressive, and law enforcement personnel outnumbered the protesters. Multi-level checkpoints were established to prevent people from joining the protest sites. However, these small protests were crucial to regaining the people's trust in the movement, and this was evident on August 2nd.

11:00 AM, August 2nd - East West University (EWU)

(Students in front of EWU in the rain)

It was a rainy Friday morning. The rain made the weather cold. The entry point of East West University was filled with armed police, and many police vehicles stood ready in front of the Aftab Nagar Main Gate. Yet, a small group of protesters from EWU, BRACU, and a few more private universities gathered in front of EWU. When I arrived, they were singing the National Anthem. The rain, the choir, and the uncertainty gave me goosebumps.

(Police occupied BRACU main gate)

Around 11:30 AM, we began marching towards DIT Road. The police surrounded us, guiding the march. They were armed, but when they tried to direct us back to EWU, we intensified our slogans, broke through the barrier, and marched toward BRACU. The BRACU main gate was already occupied by police. Surrounded, we finally took a U-turn in front of BRACU, chanting slogans like "Sheikh Hasina has many virtues, using police to do massacres." At around 12:30 PM, the protest was dismissed by student coordinators, who announced a gathering at Shahbagh at 3 PM.

1:00 PM, August 2nd - Mogbazar

(The photo I captured)

I was drying off from the morning rain at a friend's house. We were preparing to head to the Press Club at 3 PM, gathering news, and posting about the morning protest to convince people to join us. By that time, one of the pictures I took, titled "Chobbisher Raincoat," was already going viral with thousands of shares and reshares. It was from the protest at EWU—a picture of a guard standing still, protecting students from hundreds of armored personnel behind him. It referenced the General Monsoon of Bangladesh from Akhtaruzzaman Elias' story "Raincoat".

Despite warnings from our families, we set out for the press club in three autorickshaws, flags tied around our necks.

3:00 PM, August 2nd - National Press Club

The road to the press club was unlike the usual Dhaka streets. It was filled with prison vans, water cannons, and APCs. We knew something big was about to happen that afternoon. Little did we know we would witness a revolution of a lifetime. That day, I saw a human ocean. The press club was packed with people—people starving for freedom. The crowd was too large for a central slogan, with at least half a thousand different slogans being shouted simultaneously.

(Human Ocean Infront of Press Club)

We marched from the press club to Shahid Minar, passing the Raju Memorial Sculpture. I am sure Shahid Minar witnessed its largest crowd that day since its establishment. We chanted and sang songs like "Dhono Dhanne Pushpe Vhora," "Karar Oi Louho Kopat," and "Muktiro Monidiro Shopano Tole." There were street plays about the recent genocide by Natokola students, slogans from rickshaw pullers, graffiti, and religious verses filling the air.

(Police leaving with a walk of shame)

Picture: Iqra Ahmed

Police and BGB were present in overwhelming numbers, but not one dared to shoot. They stood aside, enduring curses from the crowd. They may have wearing their teal green uniforms, but we still saw the bloodstains of our brothers on them.

(Rickshaw Pullers Giving Anti-Autocrat Slogans)

There were people from every class, religion, profession, political party, ethnicity, age, and gender. Rickshaw pullers chanted alongside poets. Fundamentalists marched shoulder-to-shoulder with singers and artists. Men with Panjabi and Tupi held hands with men in monk robes. My eyes were overwhelmed by the scene. My mind had too much to process. But one thing I was assured: victory was already ours.

(People giving slogans in front of Shahid Minar)

I felt truly alive that day. My life was fulfilled in that moment. If I had died then, I would have died knowing I stood in the back of a pickup, rushing in front of thousands of misarranged armed monsters while waving the Bangladesh and Palestine flags, with my friend's middle finger raised high towards those monsters.

Now I can only imagine—if there had been no 33rd July, would we still have achieved independence on the 36th? I guess we'll never know...