Samiha Chowdhury Shoilee :
In 1971, as the world looked on in disbelief at the genocide unfolding in Bangladesh, countless Bengali mothers – such as Jahanara Imam, mother of Shaheed Rumi, and Shafiya Begum, mother of Shaheed Azad – demonstrated unparalleled courage by sending their sons to the battlefield, fully aware they might never see them again. Over five decades later, in 2024, though the timeline had shifted, the spirit remained unchanged. Once again, mothers emerged as powerful catalysts of change during the July Movement, offering not only moral strength but also an unyielding voice against tyranny.
Their contributions during this historic uprising
stand as a testament to their unwavering resolve. In homes and on the streets, mothers encouraged their children to fight for justice. They marched in protests, raised slogans, and faced the same dangers that students did-shoulder to shoulder. These women balanced family responsibilities with civic duty, becoming not just guardians but guiding lights throughout the movement.
I witnessed this first-hand when my own mother joined a procession with my younger sister, an 11th-grade student. As the movement surged and young people died for a cause greater than themselves, my mother could not bring herself to dissuade my sister from participating. Instead, she chose to walk beside her, holding placards and chanting slogans, knowing full well the risks involved.
One particular photograph from the movement captured national attention. It showed a mother standing silently as her son was arrested by police officers. Rather than displaying fear or anguish, her expression radiated pride – a mother who had raised a son with dignity and conviction. Her gaze spoke louder than any slogan: This was not a moment of despair, but of honour.
Many such women became visible symbols of quiet resistance. Their presence lent the movement a profound moral weight. Mothers distributed jackfruit and bottles of water to protesting students, standing watch like sentinels. These gestures, simple yet powerful, offered comfort and strength at a time when hope felt scarce. Their courage often served as a compass, not just for their own children, but for the nation.
Women took to the streets in rising numbers. The increased female participation brought momentum and dignity to the anti-quota protests, elevating them from a student-led rebellion to a broader social awakening. Mothers, in particular, became the movement’s silent protectors -encouraging, shielding, and guiding. Their defiant postures at rallies and their firm stance in the face of threats reminded everyone of the resilience rooted in maternal love.
The July Uprising was not only a revolt against policy – it was a public reckoning, a united call for justice, and a reassertion of democratic values. Mothers were instrumental in shaping its tone and fortifying its purpose. Their stories are often written in tears and stained with sacrifice, yet rarely recorded in history books.
As Bangladesh looks ahead, it must honour the mothers who stood beside their children – not from the safety of the sidelines, but from within the storm itself. They helped draft a chapter of resistance, courage, and ultimately, a new beginning. Their legacy is one of fierce compassion, quiet strength, and a reminder that the tenderest hearts often hold the fiercest fire.
(Shoilee, a student at BRAC University, is currently doing an internship at The New Nation.)
