If this boy had been more prudently 
dropped into life on, say, a street 
with trees that throw out their annual yellow 
to make a welcome parade for the sun; 
had as childhood neighbours a Circuit Court Judge 
whose front door had no letter box, 
a Garda Chief Inspector with an opinionated 
and over-confident dog; 
kicked a ball up and down summer evenings, 
dead apart from the occasional well behaved bee, 
with the boy next door (but one) who blossomed 
into a political correspondent 
and now gets to make up truth, 
another way would’ve been found.
But for coming at Gardaí 
with a chemical imbalance, 
what some people are calling 
a machete 
and a totally inappropriate 
post code, 
the only sentence 
was that ethically administered, 
democratically accountable, 
bolt action firing squad.
The eminent and learned 
bottoms we employ to sit 
on the inquiry into this 
need not fret the task ahead of them. 
For their report is already written.
&nbsp;
<pre>Photo Credit: <a class="owner-name truncate" style="color: #808080;" title="Go to Paolo Trabattoni's photostream" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/mctraba/" data-track="attributionNameClick">Paolo Trabattoni </a>/ Flickr</pre>

Garda Police

Poem: The Case of George Nkencho

The release of the documentary film, Ultraviolence, is a timely one. The deaths of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor in early 2020 sparked worldwide protests and put a spotlight on the treatment of Black people at the hands of the police. Yet these killings and those that came before, in the US as well as the UK, are not new incidents. For the friends and families of the victims that have been murdered by the police it is a story that is familiar and sadly keeps on repeating.
Ken Fero speaks to me over a Zoom meeting, as is the custom in these coronavirus aware times: “I can see all the changes that are happening, I can see that obviously there are lots more schemes happening and mentoring schemes for Black people and equality in representation, decolonising the curriculum, all that stuff, that’s all good. It has to happen. But the issue around [deaths in] police custody, it’s almost like it’s been forgotten or ignored. That’s why the Black Lives Matter Movement started. So Ultraviolence is trying to remind people what this is all really about.”
Ultraviolence uses CCTV recordings and real footage to show us the cruel nature of the UK legal system that protects the police officers responsible for the deaths of the innocent. The film takes us through a number of murder cases and the legal processes surrounding them.
Christopher Alder, 37, an ex-paratrooper and computer skills student, was arrested on the night of the 1st of April 1998, for being aggressive toward hospital staff. Prior to this, on that same night, he received a severe blow to the head while at a nightclub, which is said to have caused his aggressiveness. After being arrested, he was hauled into the police station, handcuffed, and left on the floor, while police officers laughed and joked at the reception desk. Christopher died moments later on the floor of the station. This is all captured on CCTV.
Brian Douglas, 33, who on 2nd of May 1995, while driving through South London with his friend, was stopped and searched by police officers Mark Tuffey and Paul Harrison. During the incident both were assaulted by police officers using the then new long-handled baton. Brian’s friend, Stafford, received a broken wrist. Brian himself suffered a severe blow to the head giving him a fractured skull, injuries that led to his death in hospital shortly after.
The infamous case of Jean Charles da Silva e de Menezes, who, on 22nd of July 2005, was shot in the head at Stockwell Underground Station by police officers who mistook him for a terror suspect. His murder came at the height of increased tension due to the July 7th bombings (7/7) which had happened two weeks previously.

ultraviolence-janet-alder-l-sister-of-christopher-alder-with-ken-fero-uv-film-director-s

Ultraviolence Janet Alder (L) sister of Christopher Alder with Ken Fero UV film director S

Other cases that this film touches upon include Paul Coker, who died in August 2005 in a cell at Plumstead Police Station after being restrained by 10 officers. At the time he was suffering from excited delirium/acute behavioural disorder. Rather than assessing him and deciding he needed medical attention, police arrested him instead for creating a disturbance. Roger Sylvester died on 11th of January 1999 in a psychiatric hospital after police officers handcuffed him and held him down for twenty minutes. As a result, he suffered a heart attack, lapsed into a coma and died a week later. The list of victims is not confined to one race either. On 22nd of September 1999, Harry Stanley, a white Scottish painter and decorator, was shot in the head by police marksmen after they were misinformed that Mr Stanley had a sawn-off shotgun.
What all these murders have in common is that, to this day, none of the police officers responsible have been charged, dismissed from duty or held accountable for these deaths.
This film doesn’t simply tell us what a tragedy these incidents are. It goes much further in order to expose a system that is devoid of justice for those families who have had a loved one murdered while in custody.
Director Ken Faro tells me: “It&#8217;s about saying the names of the police officers. And that&#8217;s a big difference between what we do in our films and what everybody else does in this country, because no other filmmaker will go as far as we have in terms of actually naming and showing [the] police officers [responsible]. What we&#8217;re interested in is what these officers have done, and how come they&#8217;ve got away with it.”
Ken adds that the media is not dealing with the roots of racism in the police force. “What we wanted to do with this film is to challenge.” In fact, he does just that and throws out a challenge. “I would challenge [the mainstream media] to show Ultraviolence. The time seems to be now. Nobody could have given them this kind of film at the most perfect moment. But they won’t go for it. For me, they are just as responsible.”

He goes further still to extend this responsibility. “I think the people have got responsibility as well. Everybody in this country has got responsibility to actually challenge the brutality that is being done in their name. One of the strongest slogans during the summer was ‘silence is violence’. That was just everywhere and that&#8217;s true. So what this film is trying to do is break the silence in any way possible.”
In Ultraviolence, we also see the struggle that siblings of the victims, Janet Alder and Brenda Weinberg, sisters of Christopher Alder and Brian Douglas respectively, are faced with as they talk to the CPS and IPCC. They demand to know why nothing has been done to convict their brothers’ murderers. Instead, they receive the message that the police are above the law.
“[We] got fed up with victim stories,” Ken states. “That’s all the media does. And we said no, that can&#8217;t happen. Because there&#8217;s always resistance. And that&#8217;s why we started <a href="https://vimeo.com/migrantmedia">Migrant Media</a> [his film company]. That&#8217;s why this film is about people that fight back.”
Ken believes there will always be resistance. The families who campaign for justice are heroes. But all too soon we forget them, we move on to the next issue, and the problem will be allowed to continue.
“Where we are now with deaths in police custody, the state I think will protect [police] officers at any cost,” Ken says. “I think we could be having 200 or 300 deaths in custody, and nothing would happen from the government’s point of view. And that&#8217;s what worries me. Where we are right now, especially with this <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/boris-johnson-intelligence-agents-crimes-undercover-b556205.html">Bill that Boris Johnson has just put through</a> [that will give new powers to public authorities, including the police and the Serious Fraud Office, to commit crimes while working undercover], which will allow anybody that works for the state to basically get away with murder.”
Director of human rights organisation Reprieve, Maya Foa, also <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/boris-johnson-intelligence-agents-crimes-undercover-b556205.html">comments on this Bill</a> stating: “Our intelligence agencies do a vital job in keeping the country safe, but there must be common sense limits to their agents’ activities, and we hope MPs will ensure these limits are written into the legislation.”
Sadly, it looks like we will be saying the names of even more victims in the not-so-distant future, but when we do, we should also say the names of the police officers that committed the crimes and repeat those names until the legal system finally holds them accountable.
Stay updated on upcoming Ultraviolence film screenings via the website at <a href="http://www.ultraviolencefilm.com/">www.ultraviolencefilm.com</a> or on Instagram <a href="https://www.instagram.com/migrantmedia/">@migrantmedia</a>.
&nbsp;
<pre>Photo Credit: Migrant Media</pre>

Ultraviolence by Ken Fero &#8211; Brenda Weinberg (R) sister of Brian Douglas

An interview with Ken Fero, director of a new documentary film that seeks to uncover the names behind deaths in UK police custody

An Interview with Ken Fero: Spotlight on UK Deaths in Police Custody in Ultraviolence

The trial of the “Mangrove Nine” was one of the first successful court cases for the black community in British legal history. This landmark case represented a victory against a police force that had repeatedly targeted them.
The nine were Frank Crichlow, Darcus Howe, Barbara Beese, Rupert Boyce, Rhodan Gordon, Anthony Innis, Althea Lecointe Jones, Rothwell Kentish and Godfrey Millett. They were arrested during peaceful demonstration that had got out of control due to the heavy-handed behaviour of the police.
One member of the Mangrove Nine, Frank Crichlow (13 July 1932 – 27 September 2010), was a Trinidadian-born activist who arrived in London in his early-20s on the SS Colombie. This was 1953, just five years after <a href="http://gal-dem.com/tag/windrush/">Empire Windrush</a> carried the first Caribbean passengers to the UK.
“It was the early days, and West Indians were still coming over,” Crichlow told writer Hassan Mahamdallie in a <a href="http://socialistreview.org.uk/352/frank-crichlow-standing-tall-against-racism">1995 interview</a>. “When they came over they had no means of contacting other West Indians – which was very important at the time. Some people who came used to stay with friends, but after they were here for a few days, they wanted to go where they could meet people and socialise.”
Crichlow could see the importance of safe spaces for the black community. He continued: “There was a lot of socialising among West Indians in basement clubs. One of the most beautiful things about that was there were people from the different Caribbean islands. It was a sort of ‘getting to know you’ time.”
After forming a band called the Starlight Four, Crichlow enjoyed some music success and media attention, using the money he saved to buy the El Rio Cafe in Notting Hill. In 1968, he opened The Mangrove at 8 All Saints Road, also in Notting Hill.
Both venues were popular among black scholars, creatives and political activists of the day, who met to discuss various social issues from racism to slum housing. It was frequented by some of the top black performing artists at the time, including stars Bob Marley, Marvin Gaye, Jimi Hendrix, Nina Simone, Diana Ross and the Supremes.
These cafes were also popular destinations for the police, who persistently raided them accusing the staunchly anti-drugs Crichlow of selling heroin. On 27th June 1969, after another unsuccessful raid by the police, Crichlow lost his licence to run the all-night cafe. He was also charged with assault following another raid by the police, in which they found nothing.
Crichlow made several complaints about his treatment by the police. In a complaint of unlawful discrimination made on 23 November 1969, he said, “I know it is because I am a black citizen of Britain that I am discriminated against.”
Between 1948 and 1971, Commonwealth immigration to Britain had risen due to economic downturn, mostly as a result of World War II. Britain was in need of cheap labour and these immigrants were seen as an ideal solution to the economic problem. As immigration from the Commonwealth increased, so did unease and anger among the white working class. It was clear that Britain was struggling to come to terms with immigration of this scale.
Such tension was escalated by Enoch Powell&#8217;s &#8220;Rivers of Blood&#8221; speech in April 1968 which criticised the influx of immigrants, claiming they would &#8220;take Britain over&#8221; in 20 years. As such, black people were seen in a suspicious light, and places where black people congregated were subjected to constant police raids. <a href="http://socialistreview.org.uk/352/frank-crichlow-standing-tall-against-racism">Crichlow recalled incidents</a> of people coming into his cafe and telling him stories of police harassment. He said: “One chap said he was in a nearby road and two police rushed up to him and said, ‘We just saw you trying car doors.’”
“You must be joking,” he replied. But the police insisted that they saw him doing this and arrested him, and he went to court and was found guilty.
In response to this harassment, Crichlow organised a demonstration on 9 August 1970. The demonstrators planned to visit three local police stations: Notting Hill, Sirdar Road and Harrow Road. <a href="https://blog.nationalarchives.gov.uk/rights-resistance-racism-story-mangrove-nine/">In an open letter</a> sent to the prime minister, barrister Anthony Mohipp and others stated:
We, the black people of London have called this demonstration in protest against constant police harassment which is being carried out against us, and which is condoned by the legal system. 
[In response to persistent police raids in black community spaces] we feel this protest is necessary, as all other methods have failed to bring about any change in the manner the police have chosen to deal with Black People. 
We shall continue to protest until Black People are treated with justice by the police and the law courts.
The peaceful march was met by an unjustified police presence, as they tried to <a href="https://www.theundergroundmap.com/wp/the-mangrove/">divert people from Harrow Road Police Station</a>. A riot ensued, which led to violence and multiple arrests. As they did with the constant raids of the Mangrove and El Rio, the police reacted without provocation when faced with a large contingent of black people.
The <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/law/2010/nov/29/mangrove-nine-40th-anniversary">Home Office</a> later put their hands up to this, claiming that the constant raids and arrests were an attempt to cut the head off the emerging black power movement. It was revealed that several civil servants had discussed legal options with the then Home Secretary before deciding on this course of action.
As warned by Powell in his scare-mongering speech, white British society was worried that black people would mobilise and take over, when in fact the black power movement was simply an expression of a desire to live without fear and violence. Those in power, including the government and the police, were increasingly seen as the main players in black oppression. It was not hard to see why this was – and still is – the case.
The <a href="http://socialistreview.org.uk/352/frank-crichlow-standing-tall-against-racism">trial of the Mangrove Nine</a> took place nearly a year later in 1971. Ian McDonald, defence lawyer in the trial, stated that: “[the case] seems clearly to be an attempt by the state to prevent the growth of organised resistance within the black community, which had an independent leadership. And that seems, to me to be the real point of the case, and it follows a whole series of other attempts whenever black people have tried to organise independently, to smash that organisation before it got really solid firm roots within the community.”
After 55 days, the judge acquitted all nine of the most serious charge of exciting a riot and stated that this case had shown evidence of “<a href="https://www.blackpast.org/global-african-history/mangrove-nine-trial-1970-1972/">racial hatred on both sides</a>”. This was the first time that a British court judge blamed the London Met Police of racial bigotry.
Crichlow said: “It was a turning point for black people. It put on trial the attitudes of the police, the Home Office, of everyone towards the black community. We took a stand and I am proud of what we achieved – we forced them to sit down and re-think harassment. It was decided there must be more law centres and more places to help people with their problems.”
Crichlow and the Nine’s success did not stop police raids on the Mangrove. The antagonism between the police and the black community continued. The Mangrove, however, became a symbol for the black community representing the sentiment that it was possible to fight state oppression.
In the 1970s, just after the trial, Crichlow set up the Mangrove Community Association where he would organise demonstrations against institutional racism in Britain. This association was set up in solidarity with movements across the globe where minorities were being subjected to oppression, including the campaign to protest apartheid in South Africa. Crichlow was also instrumental in the establishing of the <a href="https://platformonline.uk/articles/we-need-to-talk-about-claudia-jones/">Notting Hill Carnival</a>, something he was still involved with in his later life.
Frank Crichlow died on 15 September 2010. He said of his legacy, in a <a href="http://socialistreview.org.uk/352/frank-crichlow-standing-tall-against-racism">1995 interview</a>: “I don&#8217;t see myself as a leader. I never saw myself that way. As I see it I stood up for my rights, and a lot of people identified with that. We fought and we shouted. We weren&#8217;t going to put our tails between our legs.”
<img loading="lazy" class="size-full wp-image-13729 aligncenter" src="https://admin.platformonline.uk/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/frank_crichlow_mangrove-larger-e1578186555313.jpg" alt="Frank Crichlow - Mangrove Nine" width="241" height="267" />
&nbsp;
<pre>Featured photo: National Archives</pre>

mangrove-nine-demonstrations

Frank Crichlow created safe spaces for black people in London including the biggest performers of his day, but he was compelled to stand up to state targeting and police harassment.

Frank Crichlow and the Mangrove

Bangladesh was created with the blood of our grandfathers in 1971, a liberation war the stories of which we’ve all grown up hearing. Take a walk through the capital, Dhaka, and you’ll notice even the street names reflect our proud history. My own father was in the army, so I grew up surrounded by that rich history. I’d always considered the atrocities committed during the war to be a thing of the past – until six days ago. Two children, Diya Khanam Mim, 17, and Abdul Karim, 18, were <a href="https://www.thedailystar.net/city/bus-kills-one-airport-road-radisson-hotel-dhaka-mob-goes-rampage-1612879">killed on July 30, 2018</a>, when a reckless truck driver lost control of his vehicle. Approximately nine others were injured as well.
These buses and trucks are a reality of life in Dhaka. Every one of us is uncomfortably familiar with blaring horns, underage drivers, falsified licences and unfit vehicles barrelling down the roads. My sister still insists on taking my hand every time we cross the road.
The people demanded justice. The desire for safe roads did not seem to be too much to ask for. What was unexpected, however, were the protesters: tender-aged high school students. These teenagers, wearing their school uniforms and backpacks, <a href="http://www.newagebd.net/article/47625/protests-continue-amid-attacks">gathered by hundreds</a>. Their crowds hampered traffic on a major roadway, but they had public sympathy. The victims of July 30 had been school-going children, with bright futures ahead of them that will never be realised.
The demonstrations continued for six days. I, like so many others in the capital, expected pandemonium; we witnessed perfect order instead. These children, these teenagers, found their demand unfulfilled by the government and took matters into their own hands. For the first time in my memory, I saw emergency lanes on the roads. Children in their school uniforms – their school logos proudly on their chests – stopping each vehicle on the road and demanding to see whether the driver has a valid driving licence or not. Those who did got a large white “OK” written on the windshield with chalk. My own car carried one of these badges of honour. As for those who didn’t have a valid licence, they simply wrote “INVALID” in clear chalk over the drivers’ vehicles. Once again, I expected violence, and I witnessed order.
Social media roared in support. Pictures emerged of mothers carrying bags of food for these children trying to better their country. These protesters were like nothing we’ve experienced before. Instead of burning and breaking, they were trying to do the right thing – and it was working.
Until the <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-45069935">news broke</a> yesterday afternoon. Four male students were allegedly murdered, four females dragged into police boxes and raped. They were attacked by the Chattra League (a students’ political group allied with the ruling government, Awami League) and the police themselves. The government denies this, claiming rumour-mongering and demanding the students either return to school or go back home.
Yet there are photos, videos, even eye-witness’ accounts flooding Facebook and Twitter showing crowds of demonstrating students and passersby being chased and harassed by uniformed policemen. The gunshots in the background are ear-splitting. Their authenticity is doubtful, but the sheer volume of it is overwhelming. Some of these students allegedly had their eyes gouged out, with the gory, blood-covered pictures all over social media. Someone I know helped medically treat one of these maimed children.
I myself received a frantic call from a friend last night. He lives in Dhanmondi, an affluent district of the capital which currently resembles a war zone. He had gone to Bashundhara R/A, a residential area which is where his university campus is, and couldn’t leave because there were allegations of a protester having just been killed at the gate. The streetlights had gone out there, the mobile networks mysteriously jammed, and the roads began to be referred to as “killing fields”. He could not go home and was forced to take shelter at the home of another friend nearby. And through it all, the media has appeared to be as silent as the graves of Karim and Mim, the two young road victims who propelled this movement.
We’ve all read dystopian stories of teenagers rising up to overthrow a corrupt government. But here, we do not have a Dumbledore. Our Harrys, Rons and Hermiones are being crushed in the streets, our Lily Potters have to watch their children try and fail to build a safe nation. What did the protesting children want, after all? The girls who will face the trauma and stigma of rape for their entire lives, and the boys whose graves will be forgotten in a year – what did they truly want?
A Bangladesh where my sister does not have to hold the hand of her 22-year-old sibling to walk to the shop on the other side of the street.
These children are trying to bring about a dream that should already have been a reality. The fact that they’ve had to go to such lengths to get what they want implies a terrible flaw in our justice system. What we need is a government who truly listens to us: improved public transport, a stricter method of screening when it comes to granting driving licences, and above all, justice for Karim and Mim.
It truly does not seem too much to ask for.

Children face state brutality as they protest for road safety in the Bangladeshi capital

Young Blood on the Roads of Dhaka

Existing political tensions are heightening in Bangladesh as women and girls increasingly become the target of state sponsored brutality 
&nbsp; 
At 3pm in the afternoon on Friday 6 February, three men of Chattra League, the student wing of the ruling Awami League political party, <a href="http://progressbangladesh.com/details-emerge-of-opposition-daughter-sadia-murdered-by-chattra-league-buried-today/">arrived</a> at a house in Dhaka’s Jatrabari district. The men demanded the whereabouts of the father of the house, a local leader of the opposition party, Jamaat-e-Islami. The father was away; only his wife, daughter and elderly mother were home. The men demanded the keys to the family wardrobes seeking to loot valuables, and when denied, proceeded to violently vandalise the house, breaking belongings. 
The daughter of the house, 19-year-old Iffatuddoha Sadia, began calling for help. The intruders, armed with knives, attacked Sadia and her mother Fowzia, stabbing both women repeatedly. They then fled the scene. Neighbours rushed mother and daughter to hospital; Sadia died a few hours later in Islami Bank Hospital after surgery failed to save her. Fowzia is fighting for her life in intensive care at Dhaka Medical Hospital. Their only crime was being members of an opposition household. With her father forced into hiding and her mother fighting for her life, neither of Sadia’s parents received the closure of attending their daughter’s funeral and seeing their beloved child for the last time. 
Years of political unrest in Bangladesh came to a head in early January this year when the opposition coalition, that includes the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) and the Jamaat-e-Islami (JI), demanded fresh elections under a neutral caretaker government on the first anniversary of the controversial elections of 5 January 2014 that returned the Awami League to power with Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina at the helm. The polls, <a href="http://www.economist.com/news/asia/21642225-country-brink-fire">labelled</a> a “farce of an election” by The Economist, were boycotted by the opposition due to the Awami League’s abolishment of the caretaker government system which ensures a neutral body of technocrats oversees fair elections. The caretaker government system has been successfully applied in Bangladesh since the ‘90s, ensuring credible polls. The opposition alleged, with justification, that elections conducted by the Awami League would be rigged. 
When the right to hold a democratic rally on 5 January was <a href="http://www.aljazeera.com/news/asia/2015/01/bangladesh-opposition-khaleda-zia-20151472120761851.html">denied</a>, and instead the opposition leader Khaleda Zia was forced into house arrest, the opposition alliance enforced a nationwide transport blockade. The BNP and its allies have also conducted street protests across the country. Terrible petrol bomb attacks on commuter buses have cost dozens of lives with the government and the opposition blaming each other but no impartial investigations taking place to credibly identify or hold accountable those responsible. While opposition protests have included violence, there have been <a href="http://progressbangladesh.com/tag/bombs/">several</a> cases of ruling party activists <a href="http://en.bartabangla24.com/another-bangladesh-governing-party-activist-injured-while-making-bomb-at-home/">caught</a> with petrol bombs. The authorities have conducted sweeping arrests against the opposition, with <a href="http://newagebd.net/92790/movement-to-continue-khaleda/#sthash.6Br4w8JH.dpbs">17,000</a> leaders and members arrested in January alone, coupled with a government endorsed policy of shoot-at-sight that has led to dozens of deaths, raids on <a href="http://progressbangladesh.com/joint-forces-raid-homes-of-bnp-jamaat-supporters-in-jessore-vandalism-looting-and-arson/">homes</a> and <a href="http://progressbangladesh.com/police-raid-chittagong-madrassa-35-detained-on-allegations-of-links-with-opposition/">schools</a>, extrajudicial <a href="http://www.hrw.org/news/2015/02/06/bangladesh-end-deadly-cycle-crimes">executions</a> and a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WdgJpkuLi0Q">recent order</a> by the deputy inspector general of Dhaka to his police force to “not just shoot [protesters], kill their whole families”. 
The upshot of that latter shocking command is that families, including women and children such as Fowzia and Sadia, are no longer safe even in their own homes. The practice of ruling party activists participating in the state sponsored reign of terror with police only renders this latest injunction more deadly. It is particularly troubling given the sacred place women traditionally held in Bangladeshi society that rendered them off-limits, despite the country&#8217;s murky politics. This has seen a sharp and disturbing change under the Awami League. 
On 17 December 2012, 20 female students of the opposition student body Chattri Shongstha were arrested from their Dhaka offices. In Bangladesh the law does not require police to have warrants in order to arrest, facilitating huge abuses of the system. None of these women had ever had a criminal record to their name. Their only crime was that they were of the opposition, and so were jailed under terrible conditions and burdened with trumped charges. To add to their humiliation, the veiled women were forcibly unveiled at court. 
The arrests caused a commotion in Bangladesh at the unprecedented actions of police targeting respectable young ladies. Women’s Rights Organisation Bangladesh held a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y6Aa8YoLRQg">press conference</a> on 5 January 2013 demanding the release of the girls, only for over a dozen of the organisers to be arrested from the press conference itself. On 19 March 2013, a further 16 opposition affiliated women and girls were apprehended from a gathering to celebrate the recent examination results of the girls, most of whom were minors of Class 9. On 28 August 2013, 22 female opposition affiliated students, many also school age minors, were arrested from an Eid gathering in Barisal. Children too are now targets in Sheikh Hasina’s Bangladesh. 
Since these events, arrests have continued to snowball yet have been largely unreported. One activist confided under conditions of anonymity that over 300 opposition women from her party were arrested in 2014 alone. On 31 January 2015 <a href="http://www.thedailystar.net/6-mohila-ainjibi-dal-activists-detained-62567">18 opposition women</a> were arrested following their visit to meet Khaleda Zia. The women included lawyers visiting Zia who had been under extrajudicial house arrest for over a fortnight. On 10 February 2015 another <a href="http://progressbangladesh.com/five-teenage-opposition-chattri-sangstha-girls-arrested-in-noakhali/">five opposition schoolgirls</a>, aged 15 to 19, were arrested from an event at a school in the town of Noakhali. 
Custodial torture of male prisoners under this government is well documented. That the arrests of hundreds of women and girls have gone largely and disturbingly unnoticed entails that any possible and probable custodial abuse has taken place in silence. A contributing complication is the social politics of shame that renders discussions regarding violations of the female body a taboo. 
The murder of Sadia marks a new and outrageous low. Like the arrests, if this too goes unreported in national and international press, it is likely that such murders will increase. As one resident of Jatrabari stated, also anonymously in the prevailing climate of fear, “it used to be just the men who lived in fear. Now we, too, women and children, are living in terror.” The reality on the ground in Bangladesh is truly disturbing; such crimes not only grossly violate women’s rights in the country, but also further fuel and aggravate instability in a nation increasingly on the brink. 
Crucially, of the many women’s rights movements in the world today, it is troubling to see so little attention given to Bangladesh, apart from on the (no less relevant) issue of labour rights where Bangladeshi women are major producers of western fashion. If the campaign for women’s rights, as so many around the world take pride in advocating for, is to hold any credibility, it must include addressing violence beyond those directly affecting the western marketplace. Women’s participation in education and politics are foundational factors of empowerment that must be protected, yet these avenues are actively and violently being curtailed in Bangladesh for those not toeing the ruling party line. Even women’s rights activists are not spared. 
Sadia was not only a young girl in her prime ripped from the bosom of a loving family. She was an accomplished young lady with incredible promise. A graduate of Tamirul Millat Madrasah, among Bangladesh’s premier seminaries that combine national curriculum with traditional religious sciences, she went on to attend National Ideal College in Dhaka and had just started a degree in Physics at Eden College, one of Bangladesh’s oldest and most respected universities. Alongside academic merit, Sadia was also socially and politically conscious and active. For any nation seeking female advancement, she would have been an asset and role model. 
While Bangladesh is hailed for its female Prime Minister, it is Sheikh Hasina herself–who gained her position through hereditary politics and a discredited election rather than any feat of female empowerment–who is violently curtailing the rights of women and girls in Bangladesh through political vindictiveness. As the violations increase and Bangladesh’s women and children live in ever more terror, these stark realities can no longer be ignored.
<pre>Image from: http://ireport.cnn.com/docs/DOC-906351</pre>