I was in Jatrabari, and I had been huddled with a few children inside a makeshift bunker. We had dug it up and put on a roof of some sort. The bunker was close to the road, right in the middle of the battles that had been going on for several days. But that afternoon, we saw the Pakistani army in retreat. Hundred of soldiers were walking down the Dhaka-Chittagong highway, along with tanks and lorries, retreating from frontline or wherever they had been fighting. We watched them go by for hours.
In the evening when I heard someone screaming “Joy Bangla,” I knew we had our freedom and our Bangladesh. Until that moment, we could say it to one another, quietly, in the privacy of our homes.
That day we were finally able to go outside and shout freely: “Joy Bangla!”
– Muhammed Zafar Iqbal
We were in the Bandarban area when we first heard the news on an Indian radio that the Pakistani army had surrendered. We were not that sure about ultimate victory though, as the scenario was different in Chittagong than Dhaka. We approached the city from the jungle of Chittagong Hill Tracts, slowly, our feet ready for combat.
When we finally got in Chittagong proper, we realised: Yes we are free.
I was hugging each and every object that belonged to my country, be it a street dog or an unknown face that was also smiling at our joy of victory.
– Moin Ahsan
Being a Shadharon Shoinik (junior commander in the general infantry division), I was posted in a camp in a forester boat, in the Sundarbans on the Tetulbaria River. We had been intently listening to the radio since the afternoon, eagerly awaiting news.
Night had fallen, when suddenly there was a deafening noise. An elder in our group suddenly leaped up in the air so high that we thought he was going to go right through the low roof of our boat. Right then we knew we were no longer at war, that we had won, and the moment was ecstatic.
It felt as if the darkness had come alive. The forests beyond the waters echoed and trembled with the roar that jarred our senses to the core. Everything in that moment sang the tune of victory.
The roar had been the accumulated cry of joy from 14,500 soldiers posted on the river at the ends of its numerous tributaries. Afterwards people were laughing and hugging. There were smiles all around.
Khurshid Jahan Begum
I didn’t really have to wait for any broadcast news. I saw it right before my eyes. I was living in my grandmother’s house in a village near Dhaka, where I saw Pakistani soldiers chased by the freedom fighters, running for their lives, all the way from Tangail.
The occupational army was too defeated to even take their vehicle to run away. We knew we had won.
– Tahmina Begum
Victory? Oh, that was not all of a sudden. It was long awaited, long struggled and fought for. I was posted as the magistrate in Kushtia at that time, but I and one of my senior colleagues were in Mujibnagar. When Dorshona became free on December 6, we were eagerly awaiting news of Kushtia. We heard Kushtia was on December 10.
There was a kind of apprehension while I entered the free zone the next day. I knew I would not see many of us who were killed in the war. Victory: The tiny word has a vast history behind it.
– Arabinda Kar
I was in Norail, which was a subdivision of Jessore district back then. Around December 3 at 3am, a group of freedom fighters came to my house asking for a little food to carry them through the night. After getting to know them, we offered to hide their firearms, which were mostly sten guns and rifles. They explained that the surrounding villages were currently under Bangladesh’s command. Among the villages that they had personally taken part in getting rid of Pakistani soldiers were Lokkhipasha and Lohagarha.
On December 9, they were at our house again asking to listen to the radio, and around 9pm it was announced that we had overcome the Pakistani forces.
I was overjoyed, but I could see that the joy felt by the fighters standing in front of me surpassed mine. Their faces exuded joy of a magnitude that left no doubt that the nine months of war and torture and suffering was well worth it. We had peace.
– Sabina Sharmeen
I was in Bagerhat, Khulna. By December I was getting traumatised, watching dead bodies floating by my house every other day. It was a terrible time.
I had the good fortune of being able to provide shelter to a group of nine Hindu kids, no older that 16 and 17, who were being hunted for their religion. I hung a gigantic lock on the front door and kept them hidden along with myself and my 6-month-old son. When the military came looking, I kept them all pressed right underneath the ventilation grates on the wall. When they peaked in, they couldn’t see the nine youngsters hiding in quite literally under their noses.
It was those kids I was thinking of while listening to the victory announcement on Bangladesh Betar. I wondered whether they had made it across safely.
Monwara Huda
I was too young to take part in the actual fighting, but my father used to keep me updated on the war situation on a daily basis. In December I was in Dhaka, and when the radio spoke of victory I saw my father crying and thanking God for mercy, for bringing an end to the bloodbath that had ensued in March. We had won the right to speak Bangla in our motherland. We could finally live free in it.
– Anisul Islam
We all had been expecting it. It’s like the birth of a new baby – it doesn’t just happen. We knew it was coming, and we’d been waking up the last few days thinking: “It’ll be today!” And then, it was. We gathered on our balcony to see those celebrating. We were too young then, so we couldn’t leave the house. But we watched the celebration from home.
– Syed Sadeque Mohammad Ali
The moment Akashvani (All India Radio) aired the declaration of independence, a rush of blood to my head screamed that we were free. I started shooting towards the clouds, embraced my brothers at arms, and then for a few moments, everything was an ecstatic blur.
– AKM Mozammel Hoque
A lot of people were staying together for security reasons. We were in Bakshibazar, in a house whose owner had been sent to the village. I was working on community activities when the signing [of the surrender document] was taking place. People were joyous and celebrating. Many freedom fighters from just outside the city were pouring in. However, since the Pakistani army members in Dhaka weren’t aware that independence had happened, they were still shooting some of the Bangalis who had come out to celebrate.”
– Zubeida Rahman
I was there! I was at the racecourse, standing 300ft from Niazi and Aurora when they signed the surrender document. It just happened by chance.
I had been standing on Fuller Road, talking with friends about rumours of surrender – when two freedom fighters drove by in a Pakistani jeep on their way to the racecourse.
They shouted the news to us excitedly, and asked us to join them, which of course we did. My father, a Dhaka University professor, saw me drive by, and at first he tried to stop me, but when he heard what was happening he jumped into the jeep with us!
We saw the Pakistani soldiers march into the racecourse and stand in an L formation. It felt dangerous even though they were surrendering, because they were still all armed.
There were only a couple hundred civilians present. I felt lucky to be there. I had no idea I would get this chance to witness history being made.
– Mushtaque Habib