Maher Sattar
Human rights groups say thousands of people, mostly opposition members, were abducted and then secretly killed or detained indefinitely without charges during the 15-year rule of former Bangladeshi prime minister Sheikh Hasina, who was overthrown in a mass uprising in August. Many were held in a now-infamous torture site known as Aynaghor, or House of Mirrors.
One of the lone voices of dissent during this period has been a group of women who want their sons back. Mayer Daak, or “Mother’s Call”, began their journey in December 2016 when 20 families gathered to speak up about their childrens’ disappearances. Today, their numbers have swelled to thousands of members, consisting mostly of victims’ mothers.
We spoke to Sanjida Islam, the group’s coordinator, to learn about how hundreds of people remain unaccounted for, and their efforts to lobby Bangladesh’s interim government, which has created a commission to investigate the disappearances.
The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
How did you start Mayer Daak?
My brother, Sajedul Islam Sumon, was picked up by the Rapid Action Battalion [a paramilitary unit referred to as RAB] on December 4th, 2013, with five of his friends. Then they picked up another two people who lived in our neighborhood. From that time on, these eight families have stood together.
The boys they picked up were very good political organizers. My brother couldn’t even stay in our house, he would stay at our aunt’s house in a different part of town to avoid harassment. RAB showed up in uniform, and beat them with metal rods and took them away. When we asked where they were, we got a flat denial that anything had happened at all.
This struck fear in our hearts. Until this moment, goom [enforced disappearance] was not something that was part of our world.
We thought maybe they were locking them up until the election was over, and would release them afterwards. Now we didn’t know what to think about what they might have done to my brother.
Your group was seen as quite outspoken during a time when it was very hard for critics of the government to speak up.
They tried everything to muzzle us. But they couldn’t.
Everytime we tried to stage a demonstration, we’d get harassed with non-stop calls by security forces who’d try to pressure us to cancel our plans. We didn’t care, even if they didn’t let me stand on the street I would stand on the street. They wouldn’t give us any space in the press club, they wouldn’t let us book any auditorium, if they learned that Mayer Daak was trying to place the booking.
It sounds like the fall of this government has been both a blessing and a curse.
On August 5th, when Hasina fled the country, we felt such hope. But since then, I’d say the fear and anxiety has been even worse than it was during the past decade.
Because for the first three days after that, we were in the face of the intelligence and security agencies every single day. The government created a commission to investigate disappearances. We set up in front of the Aynaghor, met with officials, inspected police cells, and met with law ministry officials.
All of these people know exactly what happened. Everything happened in front of eyewitnesses. So what is holding things up? The days keep passing — what is stopping them from revealing what happened to the victims?
If those in charge of the law are not revealing this information, then how can we say we’re in a new Bangladesh? All the information is readily available to them, but we are having to run around in circles and go through a long process.
What are you afraid of?
We are wondering where are these people? They were not criminals.
Hasina is gone, but still no information coming out. It’s so difficult for us. We are asking are they alive? Or are they…[stops]
That’s what we are talking about every day among ourselves. We are living in fear, and every day it’s getting worse and worse.
Aside from bringing those responsible to justice, will Mayer Daak be asking for compensation from the government?
Let me tell you this. When the subject of money came up, one of our members said — “I don’t need money. Just show me where my son is so I can say a prayer at his grave.”
The fight is still going on for us. Maybe our fellow citizens have tasted victory. But we are still in the dark. I still don’t know if my brother is alive or not. I don’t know what was done to him.
We are also people. We are a common family, just like you and your family. When we hear about secret detention centers, about torture, lethal injections, dead bodies being thrown into the river…
We can’t take it anymore. We have a platform, and I have to speak up for a lot of people. But I don’t even feel human anymore. It’s not possible for a human to live with this.
