News Flash
By Nishat Farzana
DHAKA, July 09, 2025 (BSS) - The fearless women fighters who joined the frontlines of the July Uprising appeared to be spirited strength of the movement. Being human shields, inspiring others and defying repression, they played a pivotal role in securing movement's eventual triumph. Nusrat Tabassum Jyoti was among the boldest and valiant revolutionary female students.
Nusrat Tabassum is a student of the Department of Political Science (2018-19 session) at Dhaka University. She hails from Baguan village at Madhurapur Union under Daulatpur upazila of Kushtia district.
She studied at Baguan Government Primary School, Baguan KCVN Secondary School and Dr. Fazlul Haque Girls' Degree College.
During her school years, she was active in debate, crafting, recitation and theater. With both parents being teachers and the entire family being deeply involved in politics from far-left to far-right ideologies, she grew up witnessing political diversity firsthand.
She first came to Dhaka in July 2018 to attend university entrance coaching classes in Farmgate, a time when the political climate in Dhaka was intense and the leaders of the quota reform movement were imprisoned. That same year, she was admitted to Dhaka University. Her first engagement in activism came during the 2018 Safe Roads movement.
In 2019, she formally entered politics through the Bangladesh General Student Rights Protection Council, the main platform for the quota reform movement. She was active in various mobilizations including the protest demanding justice for Abrar Fahad’s murder and the movement against the affiliation of seven colleges with Dhaka University.
On March 17, 2021, she received her first official political position as the Cultural Secretary of the Dhaka University chapter of the council. That same month, she joined protests against Indian aggression.
Throughout her student life, she remained vocal on campus, frequently protesting the injustices perpetrated by the pro-government student wing, the Chhatra League.
After resigning from the Student Rights Council in 2023, Nusrat joined ‘Gonotantrik Chhatra Shokti’ becoming one of its founding joint organizing secretaries. She joined the anti-discrimination student movement on June 6, 2024, in front of the DU Central Library, marking the beginning of her direct involvement in the July Uprising. She is currently a joint convener of the newly-formed National Citizen Party (NCP).
Throughout the July Uprising, Nusrat was a key frontliner. She inspired women’s participation, protected protesters during attacks by standing as a shield and continued fighting even after being assaulted herself.
She was the only woman to be detained and interrogated by the Detective Branch (DB), but fought fearlessly till the very last moment of the movement.
In this interview with Bangladesh Sangbad Sangstha (BSS), she recounts her memories of that historic movement.
BSS: How did you organize women in the early days of the movement?
Nusrat Tabassum: Honestly, we didn’t need to organize women separately. As the movement got momentum, the people of this country both men and women began to unite. Women joined the protests with the same spontaneous zeal as the men.
There was no need for special strategies to attract women in the movement.
On July 14, after Sheikh Hasina labeled protesters as ‘Razakars,’ how did the female students react so quickly that very night?
Nusrat Tabassum: Even though, some momentum had been gaining throughout the movement, but July 14 was a turning point. That night, the female students of Shamsunnahar Hall broke open their dormitory doors and took to the streets. Shamsunnahar Hall had a legacy of protest.
After submitting the memorandum to the President earlier that day, we returned to our halls around 10:05 or 10:06 pm. When I turned on the internet, I saw that boys in their halls were chanting “Razakar! Razakar!” and that Chhatra League activists had surrounded them. It seemed an attack might happen under the cover of darkness.
I immediately messaged Nahid Islam Bhai, telling him, “This is the situation. If you think it’s needed, I can bring the girls out.” He replied, “If you can, then do it.” Amazingly, it took us less than 15 minutes. Our internal group of female activists was already on alert and at the moment the idea came to our mind, students from nearly all the dorms agreed to come out.
Seeing the situation inside the halls, our teachers didn't dare to stop us. Some even handed us the keys. Shamsunnahar and Rokeya Halls came out first, then Sufia Kamal Hall. Girls from Bangamata and the Bangladesh-Kuwait Maitree Halls couldn’t cross Nilkhet, since Chhatra League had gathered at Nilkhet, Shahbagh and the alley between Shaheed Minar and Jagannath Hall.
We gathered at Raju Memorial. There were about 500 female students from the three halls. Only 10-12 boys were there then: Nahid Bhai, Akhtar Bhai, Asif Bhai, Hannan Masud and later Mahfuz Bhai joined. These were the few who hadn’t returned to their halls the previous night.
We held a protest at the VC Chattar to attract the male students to come out, and eventually they did. Together, we returned to Raju Sculpture and staged a sit-in. That night, we got information that five mini-trucks had entered campus via Charukola. The plan was to hide attackers in Chhatra League rooms of the dorms and launch an assault the next day. They couldn’t do it that night because of the unity and readiness of the students.
What amazed me was that not a single girl was stayed at Shamsunnahar Hall that night. Everyone joined the movement. Ashrefa and I coordinated to ensure everyone’s participation in the protest that night. When we re-entered the hall to inspect whether there are students left in the hall, we see the hall was completely empty. That was incredibly inspiring.
Most of these girls had never taken to the streets before. Their only world was limited to the classroom and library. Yet they came out driven purely by civic responsibility. That’s what made the July Uprising different from any other movement since independence.
After the brutal attack on female protesters on July 15, how was their mental situation? Did it break their morale or energize them further?
Nusrat Tabassum: It's hard to give a one-word answer. Both are true, depending on the individual. Those who were seriously injured or witnessed brutal violence for the first time especially those who had no prior activism experience they were scared. Some were pressured by families to stop.
The July 15 attack was horrific. We struggled to decide whether the girls should go out again on the July 16.
The attack enhanced our psychological and physical exhaustion that started since June 6. From BUET to Eden College, we marched over 10 kilometers. From July 7, we began the ‘Bangla Blockade.’ Every day by 9 am, we were there, marching to Shahbagh, then blocking key intersections.
Rigorous programme made us tired and eventually the 15 July attack made us exhausted. The assumption was that girls wouldn’t be attacked, so we were placed at the riskiest points like Gulistan Zero Point and Shahbagh. Even girls wouldn't go for drinking water or use the washroom fearing their absence would lead to attacks on boys.
After July 15, I was injured. Ashrefa helped me return to the hall. The atmosphere was full of fear. That night, we decided to do something. Even if it is just symbolically, we had to fight back and we made hundreds of torches by pieces of broken benches, table legs, branches, old paper, and cloth. We stayed up all night and held a torch procession.
On July 16, female students took position at Raju Memorial again, while the boys gathered at Shaheed Minar. Everyone was in resistance mood. In our group chat, we told the girls: “We’re going. If you want to join, you're welcome. If you need rest, that’s okay too.”
The movement is thought to be continued on its usual course, but five key incidents sharply escalated the situation: the deposed prime minister’s “Razakar” remark on July 14; the brutal assault on female protesters on July 15; the killing of Abu Sayed on July 16; the abrupt closure of campuses on July 17 and the violent crackdown on private university students on July 18.
These five events shaped the movement into climax. From that point, it was no longer just about quota reform or anti-discrimination student movement. It became a struggle for ultimate justice.
What was your experience in DB custody?
Nusrat Tabassum: The psychological torture in police custody was the most severe. The worst part was that I was kept in a place where there was no clocks even daylight could not peep. Lights were on, but I had no sense of time, whether it was 5 hours, 24, or 48.
That solitary isolation broke me. It was like death. It reminded me the infamous “Aynaghar” where many people were forced to stay for years.
After your release, you rejoined the movement. What were the final days like?
Nusrat Tabassum: Mentally, I was extremely energized after my release. Physically, it took me 48 hours to recover. I remember what I was thinking sitting at night after my release: what if no one returns to the streets? But my calculation said, "They will come." Even if the general public doesn’t, the families of the dead, the injured, they will come. There was no way of going back. Sheikh Hasina had pushed it too far. There could be no solution except her fall.
One of the worst moments was August 4. A close fellow fighter was shot in the leg. That day, shooting from snippers occurred in the Shaheed Minar area.
Many dead bodies got forcibly disappeared in Dhaka throughout July. We’ll never know the actual death toll. How do you count the unclaimed death?
I got a report from Shonir Akhra on July 24 that there were shootings ongoing even going to house-to-house. Children were shot inside homes. People were dragged out and executed. Mass shooting from snipers occurred on August 3 and 4.
On August 4, we made a collective decision: no matter what, we’d march on August 5. We believed victory was near. But we also prepared to die. We posted our names, IDs, parents’ names, institutions name online thinking that if we didn’t return. That night, we prayed together. It felt like a final goodbye.
On August 5, Hamza left early without telling us. Wahid and I crossed checkpoints separately from Mirpur to Shahbagh. We avoided several attacks. Just before Shahbagh, we heard that Sheikh Hasina might resign and that Army chief would address the nation.
That day, people offered prostrations (sajdah) on the streets. It was one of the most emotional days of our lives.
In Bangladesh, women rarely take leadership roles in mass movements. What was your experience leading from the front?
Nusrat Tabassum: It’s true. Even in this movement, while women were highly active, they were rarely seen in leadership roles. There’s a difference between being a front liner and a leader. Women were always listed after 15–20 men. Leadership is still male-dominated.
For various reasons, women remained lag behind. But, I see a shift. Women are starting to think of themselves as citizens. That itself is a step forward. In fact, I believe women showed greater civic responsibility in this movement.
What are your hopes for Bangladesh’s future?
Nusrat Tabassum: July saw the worst bloodshed in independent Bangladesh’s history. And sadly, I don’t think it will be the last. Future generations may have to bleed even more.
I hope to see real, structural solutions so that our children don’t need to take to the streets again. We protested all injustice including price hike of daily essentials.
We’ve had to hit the streets for the most basic rights. Our economy gives people no comfort, no breathing room. Retirees can’t enjoy peace and the youth can’t contribute intellectually.
The quota reform movement or anti-discrimination movement was, in the end, a struggle for survival, a movement for food.
Do you have any advice for future women generations?
Nusrat Tabassum: Don’t fight for a seat at a press conference table, or to be the third from the left in a photo. If you want to fight, fight for a seat at the policymaking table. Fight for the space where decisions are made. That will bring the real change.