I am a German citizen, and to some that should mean I have no place speaking about Bangladeshi politics. Yet, after years of living in this country, working alongside its people, witnessing its struggles and triumphs, I find myself unable to stay silent. Especially when one of the most fearless and principled female journalists of this nation can no longer speak for herself.
For nearly a year now, Farzana Rupa -- a mother, a seasoned investigative journalist, a woman of remarkable courage -- has languished behind bars. Imprisoned alongside her husband, Shakil Ahmed, and scores of writers, lawyers, and activists were caught in the storm of political transition. The interim government of Bangladesh has repeatedly demanded public statements of sorrow from those it accuses of collaborating with the old regime -- while silencing them and denying any chance to speak those words.
Crucially, due process has been missing from their legal cases, denying them the very chance to explain themselves or express any sorrow. I want to say clearly: This is not justice. This is not reform. This is erasure. Therefore, through this article, even as Farzana and Shakil are silenced, I will attempt to voice their truth and explain their work.
Why I speak: The case of Farzana Rupa
Farzana Rupa is no criminal. She is one of Bangladesh’s most impactful investigative journalists -- a relentless seeker of truth in a country where truth has often been a dangerous thing. Her career, which includes frontline reporting at the Holey Artisan Bakery attack, the Rana Plaza collapse, and the Rohingya crisis, is a record of courage in the face of power.
She gave a platform to acid attack survivors, to women brutalized in Pohela Boishakh’s crowds, to victims of land grabbing and corruption. She did what journalists are meant to do: She made the comfortable uncomfortable. She stood with the victims.
Today, she faces absurd, fabricated murder charges stemming from the July uprising -- despite being in her newsroom, miles from the alleged crimes. Her husband, Shakil Ahmed, has endured the same farce. Hundreds of journalists, activists, and intellectuals have been swept into this purge, accused of crimes no rational person could believe. Among them are other prominent figures, including Sharia Kabir who, despite his age, remains in prison.
Crackdown disguised as reform
It is true that Ekattor TV, like many other outlets, was seen as being aligned with the Awami League during its long rule. It’s also true that in Bangladesh, media ownership and political power have often been intertwined, forcing journalists into untenable positions between editorial duty and survival. Both Rupa and Shakil acknowledged this -- in fact, both advocated for media reforms throughout their careers.
A system that is no longer working
The judicial system’s collapse is visible in every line of these cases. Multiple murder charges on the same day, in different parts of Dhaka, against the same person. Accused lists containing hundreds of names, from Sheikh Hasina herself to secular columnists to lawyers and human right activists. This isn’t law -- it’s lawfare.
When Farzana Rupa’s mother died in June 2025, the authorities allowed her and Shakil a mere four hours’ parole, in handcuffs, to attend the funeral. This is the measure of cruelty at work here.
A plea not of guilt but for conscience
Those close to Farzana Rupa and Shakil Ahmed -- citizens and foreigners alike -- have spoken of the couple’s deep awareness of the fraught, often hostile environment in which they worked. Both faced regular threats and pressure because of their investigative reporting, yet neither sought personal political advantage nor held party positions.
In conversations over the past year, friends, former colleagues, and civil society figures -- including those critical of the old regime -- have expressed a shared sorrow that the environment forced many journalists into difficult compromises. Several acknowledged that while Rupa and Shakil always aimed to serve the public’s right to know, the realities of political pressure meant unintended consequences were sometimes unavoidable.
“If there is any sorrow to be expressed,” one senior Bangladeshi journalist confided to me, “it is for the way our entire profession was cornered. And for those like Rupa, who tried to hold their ground and paid the highest price.”
Bangladesh’s Anti-Corruption Commission (ACC) itself conducted thorough inquiries into their financial records and professional dealings and found no evidence of wrongdoing. What remains is the undeniable fact that both journalists chose to challenge powerful interests in an increasingly unforgiving climate -- and are now paying the price.
If the interim government truly seeks a better Bangladesh, it must begin not with vengeance but with integrity. Journalism isn’t a crime. Questioning power isn’t treason. Demanding rights isn’t sedition. The continued imprisonment of Farzana Rupa and Shakil Ahmed mocks every stated principle of this so-called transitional justice.
This is about the future
If this new era begins by imprisoning those who asked uncomfortable questions, it will betray the very ideals it claims to uphold.
Justice for the “July Revolution” cannot, must not, be built upon new injustice.
Free Rupa. Free Shakil. Free all innocent from the July uprising. Bangladesh’s future demands it.
Julia Wesemann is Director, Growing Together.