Farewell to a Beloved soldier
We wanted to cry and pierce the heavens but couldn't. Our bleeding hearts suppressed our emotions full of repentance in not being able to save our heroes. We don't know how many tear drops would heal our wounded hearts. It may never heal. We know that we will never hear the voices of those heroes who were our symbol of confidence as fathers, brothers, sons or personal friends.
We know that we will no longer hear the thunderous command of Colonel Mojibul Hoque to his troops for "Attention" nor his soothing but confidence infusing voice when troubled ones, whether a friend, colleague, relative or even someone under his command needed his support. Whoever came across him could easily feel the vibe of confidence that always naturally surrounded him.
Any problem, whatever was its intensity, could never unnerve Col Mojib. When he was commissioned to take the charge of Operation Dal Bhat many of his friends discouraged and advised him to avoid such a task for which he had no experience. With his usual natural grin he would reply that as a soldier he had to obey the command and perform to the best of his ability. He faced tasks with gusto and had passion for winning against odds all his life. Whenever his job took him or the nature of the assignment given him he never missed an opportunity to bring about a positive change. With close friends he always relished the success that he had achieved with his own initiatives.
Although Col Mojib served in different capacities, he would always recall with nostalgia the time when he was the Commandant at the National Cadet Corp Battalion. He was very proud that he could bring about a positive change in the teaching pattern of the NCC. His face would beam with satisfaction that he could introduce computer training programme in NCC and young people could pick up the training procedure.
Col Mojib, who had the energy and optimism of youth had immense faith in the young generation of this country. He had a strong feeling that the young could do miracles for this country.
His friends were worried about his frankness and straightforward manner of telling the truth, but he believed that nobody could take away from him whatever the Almighty gave him.
Col Mojib, with his natural habit of applying himself fully to the service of the nation, spent many sleepless nights to plan and execute Operation Dal Bhat during a critical national crisis. Whenever asked what rewards he would get from such labour he had undertaken, he would reply with simplicity, "Well, people like us can afford a full meal even if the prices were much higher than at present but the poor people who are already half-fed would starve unless they were supported." He felt a deep sympathy for the sections of the population who remain half-fed. And it was those poor people of Kamrangirchar who had to discover his body after he was killed by the mutineers and thrown into a sewer on the fateful day of February 25!
In December 2002, the Government attached his services to the Foreign Ministry and sent him to Bangladesh Embassy, Thailand, as Minister Counselor. Apart from his regular job he served the mission as the Charge/ d'affairs on a number of occasions. Appreciating Mojib's performance, at a dowa mehfil at Kormitola Golf Club on 4th March 2009, the former Ambassador to Thailand Mr. Shahed Akhtar said "Mojib was like a strong pillar for the mission, who was full of confidence and patriotism. On a number of occasions in my absence Mojib handled situations efficiently as a Charge/ d'affairs."
Colonel Mojibul Hoque, son of a soldier, lived and indeed gave his life like a true soldier in a heroic way. When the firing started outside the Darbar Hall, knowing fully the gravity of the situation and danger to life, with a commander's spirit and uprightness, he moved to the front, unarmed, to calm down the unrest taking risk and sacrificing his life. He had all the qualities -loyalty, honor, courage, and the spirit of sacrifice -that a true hero always possesses.
With his father's new posting, he moved to Karachi at the age of two. Until grade 10, he received most of his early education in different cities of Pakistan. He spent significant periods of time engaging himself widely and deeply with the Scout movement and public speaking in his early teens.
In 1972, he obtained Secondary School Certificate from Shialkot, Pakistan. Immediately after the liberation war that gave birth to a new nation, Mojib's family repatriated and came back to Bangladesh in 1973. During the liberation war, Mojib with his other friends made several unsuccessful attempts to run away from the concentration camp of Pakistan to join the liberation war. In 1974 he obtained his Higher Secondary Certificate from Adamjee Cant. College, Dhaka. After his college education, he qualified for service and joined the Bangladesh Military Academy in 1975.
In his over 32 years of professional life, he served the nation in various capacities at home and abroad. Wherever he worked he won the hearts and minds of his superiors, colleagues and those under his commands. The photo album discovered from his burntdown house after his painful death contain remarks by his UN mission colleagues from a different countries, shed a beautiful light on his character and personality as well as the quality of his leadership. Major Hamdi Jafar of Jordan, who served under his command writes about him "…not just a man of arms but also a man of tolerance, understanding heart, intellect and one who can pick up officers from all sort of emotional ditches, one who makes big problems look so small and easy to solve, change the atmosphere of isolation into one family and home... a brother figure as well as an achieving commander".
James T Armstrong of the Royal Air Force of UK says, "It has been my pleasure to work with Col. Mojib in the pursuit of peace in Georgia/Abkhazia. He has created a 'Paradise' under his leadership in Gali. He has helped foster good relationships between the military observers from many different nations and diverse cultures and moulded them into a strong team that is loyal to Gali sector and the United Nation's observer Mission in Georgia."
Botik Martin, a young officer from the Czech Republic says, "It was a great pleasure to serve in Gali under your command. I shall never forget how you saved me after my CHA-CHA ambush."
In 2006 he came back from his Thailand assignment and was posted to BDR on deputation.
On February 24, the day before he was killed along with 57 army officers, he commanded his last parade. "I am giving all my efforts and energy to my last command before my retirement. My troops are great and giving their best for the parade as well." Col Mojib told his younger brother. All were impressed who watched the parade commanded by him on 24 February 2009.
Mojib was a gem of a person among his friends - his friends wrote in his memory, "Mojib believed that friendship isn't one big thing - it's a million little things. He had an extra-ordinary character, who knew the song in friend's hearts and sang that to them when their memory failed. Mojib was a true friend, who always advised us justly, assisted us readily, took everything patiently, defended heroically, and continued friendship unchangeably."
Col Mojib was a wonderful person to his entire family. His youngest brother wrote about his eldest brother that his Dada (Col Mojib) was endowed with immense strength of character, vision and fortitude, dared to heed the call for action and adventure.
We would continue to admire and exalt him for avidly exhibiting the virtues characteristic of a true hero.
Col Mojib was scheduled to go for retirement from the service on 3 April, which is his birthday as well. Unfortunately before his retirement he was destined to leave us and as a true soldier died with his "boots on". May his soul rest in peace.
A tribute to my brother Col. M. Mojibul Hoque
M. Emamul HaquePublished on The Star Magazine of The Daily Star on 3rd April 2009
Last month the mourners were told of a caring brother, dependable friend, loving father, trustworthy husband, reliable colleague, visionary commander, and a patriotic hero who was proud to serve his country.
Dear brother, my dear Dada - it was you who we all talked about. It breaks my heart to think I will never see you again. I know the tragic reality that I will never hear such a tranquil voice say “Jee Dada”, as a response to my call. You did not deserve what those cowards did to you. I remember, in my childhood, the first time you tried on your uniform. You looked like such a proper proud soldier and that's when I realised how lucky I was to have you as a brother. Dada, I never told you how much I love you but I hope you knew that I did, and I always will.
Dada you were martyred along with 57 army officers during the BDR massacre of February 25, a month before your pending retirement from the service on April 3 which was to coincide with your 53rd birthday.
Hundreds of thousand of people paid their respects to you and other martyrs at the National Parade Ground in Dhaka on 2 March 2009.
"I feel proud about the sacrifice and courage of all the bright officers but sadly they had to prove their worth to the nation at the cost of their supreme sacrifice. The nation would always miss them and at the same time, this would haunt us forever,” said (Mili Mojib), your beloved wife, immediately after the incident. Despite awful feelings following the merciless massacre of brilliant and patriotic army officers the way she held her emotions and coped with the situation would not have been possible if she were not the wife of a true hero. I am proud of you Dada for the way you always upheld your morals. I am proud to see your morals being reverberated in the heart of your life partner.
Many of my friends, especially military officers, who came to see us after the incident to express their sympathy, told me that they regained strength from Bhabi's calm and poised expression even after such a horrendous experience of deaths and arson. They all praised you so highly.
It's normal for any commander with uprightness to go to the front and fight when there is a crisis. You did exactly that and marched forward to calm down the unrest. In doing so, you took the ultimate risk. You had all the qualities -- loyalty, honour, valour and sacrifice that a true hero possesses. You lived, and gave your life, as a hero. Your children Pronoy, Pritam and Audrika as well as your nephews and nieces, Gibran, Elma, Danisha and Azmain will be proud of you as they grow.
You were endowed with immense strength of character, vision and fortitude, dared to heed the call for action and adventure. We will continue to admire and exalt you for avidly exhibiting these virtues; characteristic of a true hero.
The loss of so many talented heroes is irreparable for the nation. It may take a long time but we hope the vacuum will be filled and new committed officers will come to serve the nation and uphold our sovereignty.
But I know I will not have you back. The nation has paid its last respects to you on March 2 at the National Parade Ground. We lost both of our parents in the last few years but I never felt like a motherless child, perhaps because you remained such a strong guide to me. Now for the first time I am feeling a huge emptiness inside of me and I feel that as long as I live this abyss in my heart will never be filled. During the last few years I defeated all the difficulties I faced with courage. The secret behind my energy was indeed you, who always remained in my subconscious mind, the last place of resort, where I knew I could fall back and find your warmth whenever I needed it. Now I feel completely broken to see our whole family shattered by your departure.
Now I feel I do not have the strength to face our only sister, Lucky, who I know is expecting the same strength from me that she used to get from you. Since your departure I have been avoiding her and many other relatives, who are trying to find the qualities and traits of yours in me. You have left incredibly difficult shoes to fill.
In our family, during any crisis, you used to stand in between as a shock absorber. Your experience, intuition, and foresight quickly warned us always of any possible family crisis. Now we have no one who can respond so quickly and avert us from the burdens of life.
Perhaps you did not have any idea of the positive influence that you had on my young formative years. I turned to you in times of trouble in my recent adult life and relished in the guidance that you had provided meticulously and lavishly. I learnt about life by watching you raising your kids - being yourself, a wonderful and caring father. I recall in recent times when life took a strange turn and I was about to lose focus, you extended your all out support, and told me I am not only your younger brother, I am like your son.
It was not only our family, your colleagues and troops who were always in your thoughts. The week before the last parade that you commanded you told me: “I am giving all my efforts and energy to my last command before my retirement. My troops are great and giving their best for the parade as well.” All who watched your parade command on February 24, 2009 were impressed, the day before you were cowardly slain. I missed your parade but I am hearing now how diligently you commanded. Swati, my wife, was so impressed by your style and assiduousness that it forced me to call you on the night of February 24. I never ever thought that would be the last conversation I would have with you.
Today is April 3 2009, your birthday and your expected retirement date from the Bangladesh Military after serving the nation for over 33 years. But before your retirement you were destined to leave us and laid to rest in peace. Today on your birthday we all, including your admirers, colleagues and friends will meet, recall your sacrifice for the nation and pray for your departed soul.
With your departure many of us have lost our best friend. You will always remain in our hearts. I Love you Dada.
Remembering Col. Mujibul Hoque
Neelima IslamPublished on Point Counterpoint page of The Daily Star on 3rd April 2009
"I'm retiring on April 3, on my birthday. I would like to have a grand party because I want to celebrate my retirement and the beginning of a new episode in my life." -- Colonel M. Mojibul Hoque
THAT was what my brother-in-law Col Mujibul Hoque, who commanded the Dhaka Sector and headed the caretaker government's Operation Daal-Bhat, and was killed at the early stage of the mutiny, wished for, just weeks before he was slain.
I'll never forget the saddest moment of my life when I had to bear the news of his death so untimely, so barbaric, and so heart-rending. Indeed, I am making preparations for April 3 with due solemnity and honourbut not to celebrate his birthday and retirement but to commemorate his chehlum.
Reliving those 33 hours still horrifies me. I was travelling by road from Khulna to Dhaka when I first received a call from my sister saying she was confined in the gym as some BDR staff members had revolted against the army officers.
I got worried, thought about my brother-in-law who I knew was in the Darbar Hall, thought about my nephew who I heard was sleeping in his room, thought about my niece at school. Then I heard rumours about the DG being shot, and my heart sank.
I was getting text messages from my 17-year old nephew to help him as the mutineers set the house on fire. I frantically called as many people as I thought would be able to help. I felt so very helpless and unfortunate to fathom the trauma that poor boy must be going through. I was hearing rumours of Col Mujib's death, but in a state of denial kept praying: “Oh Allah, please don't let this happen. I'll do anything for you, please protect him, please protect all the others.”
However, when I reached Dhaka at 5 pm, I went to bring my niece from her friend's house. Holding her close to my heart, I started worrying about my sister, my brother-in-law and my nephew. Adding to my woes was my niece's relentless yearning to see her parents, her brother, and her pet dog. I had to explain that there were some rebels who had taken control of BDR premises to realise their demands and once they are met, they would set everybody free.
By that evening I had to believe Col. Mujib's death, as his brother identified the corpse. But, how could I tell the little girl that her world had changed?
My sister didn't regret losing her belongings, hoping her husband was alive. But all that they had built together over 25 years of their marriage were burnt down to ashes by the mutineers. They had celebrated their wedding silver jubilee on December 9.
It's hard to put into words how I feel the loss of my brother-in-law who was a great friend to me and I have always admired him as the nicest human being on earth. He lived a worthwhile life and was proud of his loyalty towards the country he loved so much.
I remember when he was posted in Thailand, he would inevitably call me prior to every festival and ask for Bangladeshi greeting cards or gifts which he took pride in giving to contacts there just to show off his country's wealth. I still feel the warmth of his words when on several occasions he said: “I live for this country and I want to die for this country.”
He was unyielding and consistent in following his principles and always loved to remain busy with his work. I always believed he had no enemies because he never wished ill for anyone. Utter contentment with what he has blessed with, had kept him away from being over-ambitious.
His work, his staff members were always priority for him. He even didn't hesitate to remind his family members how much he valued his staff members and their welfare. That is why my sister found it very difficult to reconcile how those same staff members shot him. To be murdered at the hands of people whom he knew must be all the more heartbreaking.
The only consolation in all these terrible outrages is that for everyone who defiles their fellow citizens and country there are many more who show outstanding bravery and self sacrifice when confronted with these terrible situations. They give us continued faith in fellow human beings. I am grateful to all our friends, colleagues and family members who stood by our side, lent their helping hands unconditionallyall of which are so crucial to that gradual process of healing and reconciliation.
Most people are fortunate never to experience such horrors, personally, and cannot begin to understand the lifelong scars they leave. But it is remarkable how, over time, human beings so often pick themselves up from a tragedy and find 'coping mechanisms' to move on, as those they have lost would almost always wish.
I know it will take time to reconcile and I suspect there will be many difficult moments over the months to comefor all who knew and loved Mujib. But we all have to remain strong to move on and live Mujib's dreams. I am proud of my sistershe is a strong woman with undying loyalty to her husband, his ideals. She is capable of instilling her husband's principles, values in her children and move on with confidence and dignity.
A brother, a patriotic warrior
M. Emamul HaquePublished on Feature page of The Financial Express on 11th April 2009
I have yet to delete two cell numbers from my contacts list. "Amma" and "Amma new" are still there, though many times I have tried to delete them and finally failed. The BDR massacre of 25 February has made that list longer - 'Dada', 'Dada 2', 'Dada Res' and a few more. I know the tragic reality - I will never receive calls from these numbers again and I will never hear such a tranquil voice, "Jii Dada", my beloved brother answering my call.
Dada, my elder brother, never called me by the name that everybody knows; he always called me "Ganje". When I was 6 years old, my head was bald, since then he called me by this name, meaning bald headed. I cannot remember a time when he called me by any other name but this. I only realized after his departure how sweet and strong the call was. It is heartbreaking to think that nobody will call me 'Ganje' with such a placid voice. Knowing fully that his number will not respond, I don't know with what hope it is that I keep calling. Who knows, I may hear the voice 'Hi Ganje' from a divine source.
My brother, Colonel Mojibul Hoque, would often say: "The best choice of a soldier is to die for his country so that he gets a place in the heart of the people and be remembered by the whole nation." It seems his desire of such sacrifice for the country has been realized. The way he departed however will haunt us forever and leaves a lingering feeling of disgrace upon us as a nation. Despite this we know the nation will definitely remember him and all national heroes martyred during the BDR carnage, for their courage, commitment and patriotism.
Immediately after the news of his killing, before even unfolding the real story of the BDR massacre, one of the editors of a leading newspaper described Col. Mojib on a TV show, as a person of modest abilities. When we, the family members, heard the news of his death, our grief spiralled into mourning only comparable to the loss of a parent. We wanted to cry and pierce the heavens but couldn't. Our bleeding hearts suppressed our emotions full of repentance in not being able to save our brothers. We don't know how many tear drops would heal our wounded hearts.
Col. Mojib, with his natural habit of applying himself fully to the service of the nation, spent many sleepless nights planning the execution of Operation Dal Bhat. Whenever asked what rewards he would get from such labour, he would reply with his simplicity of truth, "People like us can afford a full meal even if the prices were much higher than at present but the poor people who are already half-fed would starve unless they were supported." He felt a deep sympathy for the section of the population who remain half-fed. I just learnt the other day from his former colleagues that once after returning from a mission to capture a notorious criminal, he found poor children not attending school due to poverty. The very next day he called the commissioner of the locality, organised education materials for the children and requested the commissioner to do his utmost so that children remain in school.
Col. Mojib was a hard-working patriot who always gave himself a punishing schedule and set onerous targets. During his last assignment he was always exploring options for a solution to feed the poor and hungry people. I remember near the beginning of the 'Operation Dal Bhat' he regularly sent his colleagues to researchers and institutions to get information and research documents through which the poor and most vulnerable people could be targeted rightly for the Dal Bhat programme. He was widely known in the media as Taskforce Commander of BDR's highly acclaimed Operation Dal-Bhat which was launched in the wake of the increased price of essentials.
We three surviving siblings have very big shoes to fill now. Lisa, one of my friends writes to me to express her sympathy, "if you are from the same family as your brother, you are made of the same fiber - and perhaps his passing will call forth some qualities which you have in your own character." I am not sure any of us, his brothers and sister, really have the strength to be like him and acquire some of his noble traits, temperament and the spirit of sacrifice. Perhaps the best way to show our respect to our brother is to do our utmost to be like him, though it's a huge big challenge for all of us.
Col. Mojib always had a very high regard for his colleagues and troops serving under his command. I remember on many occasions I found him defending his troops and colleagues. Once one of our very close relatives made an insolent comment about one of his troops and without any delay he asked him to shut his mouth and never ever dare to speak disrespectfully about his troops.
I have learned patriotism, watching him patronizing local products and crafts. He was a great fan of local products. One vendor I met recently told me, "I wanted to give him a foreign made quality item but Sir (Col. Mojib) always asked for local products, he said 'if we didn't support local craftsmen how would they develop'". Almost every occasion I accompanied him to buy gifts for family members; he always preferred Tangail sharis for ladies. As he said, this would help poor people and encourage developing our small-scale industries.
We feel proud about the sacrifice and courage of all the bright officers but sadly they had to prove their worth to the nation at the cost of their supreme sacrifice. The nation will always miss them and at the same time, this will haunt us forever. The massacre and sacrifice of 57 brilliant officers' lives will remain a part of our national failure, if we do not bring them justice within a shortest possible period. If we do not see any significant progress soon, we may lose the hope that these killers would ever be brought to trial like many incidents that happened in the past and are forgotten. I hope that this time, Justice will not be delayed and denied.
The Soldier: The Man
Written by Sangita AhmedIt was the second time the white car passed us by. That was way back sometime during mid February, 1985. My fourteen year old sister and myself were in our father’s car which had suddenly decided to halt right in the middle of Dhanmondi road 3. No amount of pressing the accelerator or pulling the choke would make it change its mind. I had just got my British driving license and had come to Dhaka for a month’s holiday. To be honest, I found it highly amusing when people used to stare at this pretty young girl (being myself! ) navigating a car through the streets of Dhaka. Believe me, this was not a common sight 24 years ago. But on that breezy evening of February 1985, the car was letting me down. This wasn’t supposed to happen to a young and confident noveau-driver.! My cockiness began to somewhat deflate. The white car passed us for the third time. In the dark purple twilight I saw a young man get out and walk towards us. “Oh God!” I thought, I hadn’t bargained for another problem. Why hadn’t I listened to Abba and taken the driver?
“Anything wrong?” I rolled down the window just an inch, pretending not to be nervous. “Its okay the car has just stopped, it’ll soon start I’m sure” I said frantically tuning the ignition for the fortieth time and pressing the accelerator. “Where do you live?” the gentleman asked. I could hardly make out his face in the disappearing evening light. “Banani,”. “Well you could leave your car here and have someone pick it up. I was going in that direction so I could drop you two, if you like” “Out of question” I thought, but I put on a brave smile and politely declined. “Would you allow me to try to start it?” he patiently said. I signaled to my sister to get out of the car and we both stood on Dhanmondi road 3, while the young gentleman pushed our car with one hand and pressed the accelerator with his other hand. The stubborn vehicle finally decided to give in and with a few grunts and chokes the engine revved up. The sound was like music to our ears. “I think it’ll be okay now, but I would say its not a very good idea for you to drive alone at this time” he said. “You’re telling me!” I thought., this is definitely the last time of me behind the wheels after 5pm, especially in an old Toyota Publica!
On the 16th of January 2009, I got a call from an unknown number on my cell phone. I was busy choosing a book as a gift for my cousin’s birthday. After rummaging through philosophy, poetry, ayurvedic and the classics, I finally got what I was unconsciously looking for. “A Golden Age” by Tahmina Anam.. I promptly picked two from the shelf, deciding to buy one for myself. The call was from the BDR Headquarters. The caller, Col. Anisuzzaman, asked me whether I would be free to perform as Master of the Ceremony (English) at the Annual Parade on the occasion of BDR Week 2009. I said I was free and would be honored to do so.
On the 16th of February 2009 at 8am I entered the BDR Headquarters for the first of many consecutive rehearsals. This time my driver was at the wheels! 24 years had made me a little wiser. The compound was beautifully manicured. Even the huge trees, their green spring leaves rustling in the Falgun breeze seemed to salute everyone who passed by. Were they also trained to perfection? I thought to myself.
After the parade practice we met the officials who were coordinating the event.
From that day, for the next one week, each morning my alarm would ring at 6.20 am and I would reach BDR Headquarters at 7.50 am, feeling fresh, chirpy and ready for another rehearsal. Three other members were in the announcement booth. Quickly we all blended in and became one very determined team – the BDR Annual Parade 2009 had to be a success and we felt proud to be part of this beauty and precision. On snag, the steps leading to the booth were a bit rickety and it was a bit difficult to climb, especially when one is wearing a crisp cotton sari and high heels! I politely explained this to Major Mizan who was our direct coordinator, silently thinking, this is Bangladesh, by the time they do anything about these stairs, the Parade will be over and I will be sitting home, hopefully with my two legs intact!
To my utter surprise, the next morning, the 20th of February, 2009 a proud set of stairs were gleaming with new bright green paint in the pale yellow falgun morning sun, moist with early morning dew. I thanked the Major. He said, “Apa, each year when we open this booth for the Annual Parade, some one will climb these stairs and think of you.” That day , we got into conversation staccatoed by the rehearsals. I learnt that Major Mizan’s wife a beautiful young lady had suddenly died in June. She had a malignant brain tumor. They had two sons Sami and Rami aged between 3 and 9. I asked him how he managed between the demanding jobs of being a mother, a father and a soldier. He said to me “Apa at the end of a long day, when I lie in bed with my two sons in my arms, I feel that this is all I need, nothing else matters”….
I used to come home each day and relate to my husband all that had happened during the day at BDR. Although sometimes he was so tired from his work, he could sense my excitement of being part of this wonderful event and used to listen raptly. I described how smartly Col Mojibul Hoque, the sector commander, commanded the Parade during the rehearsals. Looking at him I could imagine what Stentor in Holmer’s Illiad must have looked and sounded like. Ramrod straight, maybe even more that the sword he was carrying during the march past…eyes piercing directly into eternity he marched on…
February 24, 2009 The day of the Annual Parade, on the occasion of BDR Week 2009.
We were tense but also determined to give it our best. After the Parade, among many others, Col Reza came up to congratulate me on my performance. I admitted that although the repeated practices sometimes had seemed a little annoying, hampering all my other chores of the past week, it had paid off at last. “Ma’am, there is nothing like rehearsal. In the army everything is rehearsed, rehearsed and rehearsed. We even have to rehearse for Death Itself.” “And how is that ?” I joked. He said “The burial ceremony has to be planned precisely” That is what the Army is all about. Every thing has to be perfect and precise. For that we need rehearsals”…..
I could see Col Anisuzzaman was extremely busy all through. I did not even get the chance to congratulate him on being the first of the three officers to be awarded the Bangladesh Rifles Podok 2009 which is the highest gallantry award of Bangaldesh Rifles. I did not get the opportunity to ask him what feat he had achieved which won him this great honor. There is ample time I thought, Ill ask him later one day when he is less busy. Col. Anis was an extremely handsome officer. Tall, fair, built like a true soldier, kind intelligent eyes, clefted chin with the hands of a Pianist. I thought, how do these beautiful hands hold a rifle?
After lunch, before I left the Darbar Hall at around 1.30pm Col. Anis called on Major Mizan’s cell phone and thanked all of us for doing a great job. He apologized to me for not being able to thank us in person. We said our goodbyes, feeling a little sad that the excitement is over and it is time now to return to our daily lives.
Major Mizan came up to my car to see me off. He said “Apa please come to my house with Jewel Bhai, did you know my nickname is also Jewel!”. I had decided in my mind to take him up on his word and strike up a family friendship with this young soldier who, inside his formidable uniform, was a lost, lonely father trying so hard to make up for the loss of the mother of his two beloved sons. He was smiling like a young boy and kept on waving until my car turned and went out of sight. Did I see a glint of sadness in his eyes? But I had told him we would definitely meet again. Maybe I had forgotten to say “Inshallah!”.
During the course of time I had come to know that Col Anisuzzaman was the young man who had so chivalrously fixed my car 24 years ago on Road 3 Dhanmondi. At that time, to me, he was just a kind person who had helped me unconditionally, without any intent or hesitation.
The last time I saw or spoke to these brave officers, was the day before their death, the 24th of February 2009. Col Anisuzzaman, Major Mizan, Col. Mujibul Haque, Col. Reza, Major Reza. To you and the hundreds of gallant officers and your families, we salute you as soldiers and protectors of our frontiers, but most of all, as men who have lived, learnt, laughed, cried and Loved just like other men . We have lost you forever. May you find Eternal Peace.
Remembering Col. Mojibul Hoque and the brother Martyrs
Written by M. Emamul HaqueSurprisingly, four years have swiftly passed since the death of your band of brothers. In these 48 months your silences ringed out loud and clear in our lives. I know that in line with the laws of existence, we will hear you speak no more. We may try but won't be able to comprehend what went through your minds that fateful day and night. Did you notice the sun shining, the birds chirping either in alarm or silent and frightened away by the gunfire and explosions of the handful of cowards methodically exterminating the brave sentinels of my beloved motherland?
It pains me to think what other thoughts raced through your worried mind. Did you long to talk to your wife and children and siblings? I wonder what you would have done had you known that one of your child was covering in sheer raw fear of dear life within walking distance from you. Would you have been able to maintain the Soldiers poise if you had known that your wife and daughter are separated; one imprisoned and the other at school?
I am sure some such thoughts must have raced through your mind. Your thoughts were obviously overshadowed by the sense of duty to help bring the situation under command.
But one thing is clear: Out of sheer raw bravery as a Soldier, you displayed purpose and commitment when you ventured out -- unarmed amidst a nest of fully-armed-to-the-teeth dastardly traitors -- at the command of your General, towards your destiny, the destiny which every true soldier dreams of -- to become a veteran or a martyr -- a Shaheed.
Today, in a far away land, displayed on my desk are your photographs -- pictures showing you in service uniform, as an ace Golfer and one capturing a moment of you as command of a sector in Georgia.
In your early years, you were a good debater, showing a glimpse of your talent as a natural speaker. There was something electric about the way you spoke, giving off a burst of energy for the audience to absorb. That vigor yet keeps me going when my spirits are low because, as the poet said "I have promises to keep and miles to go and miles to go before I sleep."
Dada, your departure was unexpected and sudden, you could have offered so much more to those you loved and to the motherland. Alas, dear Dada, it hurts to realise that we will not communicate any more the way we used to in the not so distant past.
Although you were, are my eldest brother, you never took offence but instead remained elder brotherly calm and steadfast to your philosophical views. You displayed confidence and without any ambiguity, you forcefully reiterated that when it came to integrity, there is no option but to lead decent and honourable lives.
I last saw my dear brother, Colonel Mojib's face, peaceful, devoid of life, at the mortuary of CMH. And I also remember his firm and alert face saluting the dais at the 2009 Annual BDR Parade, just a few days earlier. So much had changed within these few days and so much did not happen that ought to have, it is indeed a conundrum. That lifeless face was the face of a humble and calm self. His graying mustache camouflaged his last facial expressions when the cowards and hyenas gunned him down on February 25, 2009.
Dear Dada, sadly, many amongst us, find enough reasons to be skeptical about the future. In your motherland people are still suffering meaningless, untimely and violent deaths. Only recently, an innocent apprentice tailor by the name of Biswajit was extremely brutally slaughtered in broad day-light in plain view of a large general citizen, over 100 innocent ready-made-garment workers lives turned into ashes, their charred bodies dumped in body-bags, buried in anonymous graves, awaiting DNA identification.
This, unfortunately, has become the way of the world in our unique brand of democracy. However, in spite of such hopelessness, I see a flicker of light at the end of tunnel, in the form of our youth. I trust, hope and pray that they shall turn their back on such heinous and putrefied political culture.
The youth are blessed by the legacy of the band of martyred officers, the lesson of patriotism. Unbeknown to the traitorous perpetrators, the youth is aware of the truth and is looking forward to its revelation and justice. Our youth have witnessed your bravery and they feel proud that this nation produced sons like you all. They appreciate the strength of your convictions.
I feel confident that they will not get caught up in the present social pettiness. They have a promise to fulfill, and they know the debt they own you all and the promise they have made to you and to the nation. We have weaved a history through such sacrifices and our youth are donned in red and green, the colours of the motherland's standard.
I reassure you, if you can feel this that they observe everything and they shall not disappoint you.
You must have seen them, their vigor and spirit in recent time at Shahbagh. This time around, they will neither quit nor will they remain quiet anymore.
Today, on Shaheed Shena Dibosh, we remember all of you with tears in our eyes and gratitude in our hearts and hope in our minds.
May you all rest in peace, Ameen.
The writer, a former UN staff, is the brother of Shaheed Colonel Mojibul Hoque.
E-mail: emamul.haque@gmail.com
This article was published in The Daily Star:
http://archive.thedailystar.net/newDesign/news-details.php?nid=270332
"Mojib was like a strong pillar for the mission, who was full of confidence and patriotism. On a number of occasions in my absence Mojib handled situations efficiently as a Charge/ d'affairs."
-- Mr. Shahed Akhtar, The former Ambassador to Thailand"...not just a man of arms but also a man of tolerance, understanding heart, intellect and one who can pick up officers from all sort of emotional ditches, one who makes big problems look so small and easy to solve, change the atmosphere of isolation into one family and home... a brother figure as well as an achieving commander".
-- Major Hamdi Jafar, Jordan"It has been my pleasure to work with Col. Mojib in the pursuit of peace in Georgia/Abkhazia. He has created a 'Paradise' under his leadership in Gali. He has helped foster good relationships between the military observers from many different nations and diverse cultures and moulded them into a strong team that is loyal to Gali sector and the United Nation's observer Mission in Georgia."
-- James T Armstrong, Royal Air Force of UK"It was a great pleasure to serve in Gali under your command. I shall never forget how you saved me after my CHA-CHA ambush."
-- Botik Martin, A young officer from the Czech Republic"Mojib believed that friendship isn't one big thing - it's a million little things. He had an extra-ordinary character, who knew the song in friend's hearts and sang that to them when their memory failed. Mojib was a true friend, who always advised us justly, assisted us readily, took everything patiently, defended heroically, and continued friendship unchangeably."
-- Friends of Col MojibYou were endowed with immense strength of character, vision and fortitude, dared to heed the call for action and adventure. We will continue to admire and exalt you for avidly exhibiting these virtues; characteristic of a true hero.
-- M. Emamul Haque, Brother of Col MojibIt was wonderful growing up with someone like you - someone to lean on, someone to count on... someone to share with! We love you Dada.
-- Lucky, Dani, Emam, Swati & Inam, Relatives of Col MojibDad you always embraced us when we cried,
scolded us when we broke the rules,
shined with pride when we succeeded,
and had faith in us even when we failed...
You are the one who had always been there for us; you always loved, cared, and provided for us.
You are the most important person in the world to us.
Someone we LOVE with all our heart.
You are our friend, our hero, but most importantly you are our...
BABA!!!!
We Love you dad!
"Mojib was like a strong pillar for the mission, who was full of confidence and patriotism. On a number of occasions in my absence Mojib handled situations efficiently as a Charge/ d'affairs."
-- Mr. Shahed Akhtar, The former Ambassador to Thailand"...not just a man of arms but also a man of tolerance, understanding heart, intellect and one who can pick up officers from all sort of emotional ditches, one who makes big problems look so small and easy to solve, change the atmosphere of isolation into one family and home... a brother figure as well as an achieving commander".
-- Major Hamdi Jafar, Jordan"It has been my pleasure to work with Col. Mojib in the pursuit of peace in Georgia/Abkhazia. He has created a 'Paradise' under his leadership in Gali. He has helped foster good relationships between the military observers from many different nations and diverse cultures and moulded them into a strong team that is loyal to Gali sector and the United Nation's observer Mission in Georgia."
-- James T Armstrong, Royal Air Force of UK"It was a great pleasure to serve in Gali under your command. I shall never forget how you saved me after my CHA-CHA ambush."
-- Botik Martin, A young officer from the Czech Republic"Mojib believed that friendship isn't one big thing - it's a million little things. He had an extra-ordinary character, who knew the song in friend's hearts and sang that to them when their memory failed. Mojib was a true friend, who always advised us justly, assisted us readily, took everything patiently, defended heroically, and continued friendship unchangeably."
-- Friends of Col MojibYou were endowed with immense strength of character, vision and fortitude, dared to heed the call for action and adventure. We will continue to admire and exalt you for avidly exhibiting these virtues; characteristic of a true hero.
-- M. Emamul Haque, Brother of Col MojibIt was wonderful growing up with someone like you - someone to lean on, someone to count on... someone to share with! We love you Dada.
-- Lucky, Dani, Emam, Swati & Inam, Relatives of Col MojibDad you always embraced us when we cried,
scolded us when we broke the rules,
shined with pride when we succeeded,
and had faith in us even when we failed...
You are the one who had always been there for us; you always loved, cared, and provided for us.
You are the most important person in the world to us.
Someone we LOVE with all our heart.
You are our friend, our hero, but most importantly you are our...
BABA!!!!
We Love you dad!