The death of Arafat Rahman Koko was sudden and unexpected. Most of us regular citizens, not involved in either party’s politics, forgot this name for a while. Busy with our daily struggles, we were not thinking: How is Koko Rahman doing? Where exactly is he living?
A certain invisibility (twinned with visibility) was the fate of being younger to the more prominent older brother. All eyes were on Tarique Rahman: What will Tarique say next? How will the government react? Will he come back to Bangladesh? Will the government arrest him?
These questions circulated in social media, university campuses, talk shows, and shushil private sessions. In the midst of it all, the fate of Koko was forgotten.
I remember, during one of the hartals in 2006, official television broadcast scenes from an amateur cricket match played inside Hawa Bhaban – to show that things were normal. The batting was led by Tarique Rahman. In one corner, Koko was seen sitting on a chair, talking to someone – the younger brother, on whom the cameras lingered less often.
Then 1/11 came and the jailing of both brothers paradoxically elevated Koko. Both brothers were seen as X factors, otherwise, why jail both of them? The cricket match of national politics/warfare wasn’t a spectator sport.
Arafat Rahman Koko wasn’t a spectator anyway.
Later, when the 1/11 government started collapsing, the jail-to-court appearances of both brothers became a major political focus. Were they well or ill? The answer tilted to whether one believed the caretaker government was abusing them or not.
For Tarique Zia, things rotated around an MRI that showed a compression/injury in his vertebrae. The CTG claimed this was an old ailment, the BNP claimed it was from a beating he had received in jail. Many could not imagine an army official, even in the heyday of CTG, would dare torture Tarique. Even an army officer three decades removed from the 70s must have some fear of reprisal? Or did they not? Perhaps this was the new world.
Koko was a more complicated case. He was in visible physical distress at court hearings. In one TV footage, we saw Koko having what looked like a seizure in the ambulance. An oxygen mask was clamped on his face while the cameras rolled. Critics claimed reasons for his illness that predated his jail time. The matter remained an unresolved debate.
Of the two brothers, Koko seemed physically more unwell during court hearings. When it was announced that both brothers were going abroad for medical treatment, it was understood that Koko needed it more.
In the national drama of blow-counterblow/AL-BNP, if you are not an active player, people forget about you. Koko was invisible in exile, while Tarique spoke up. The average people stopped thinking about Koko. Perhaps until this unexpected early death.
Koko’s death is a private tragedy for the family. But is privacy possible for one of Bangladesh’s two ruling political families – both cursed by a history of sudden death? Our national political culture won’t allow it. The families themselves won’t allow it. They have possibly forgotten how to grieve privately.
All moments since the death has been turned into a public talking point. Will Khaleda Zia call off the blockade? How long did Sheikh Hasina wait at the gate? Will the body come back to Dhaka? Why is this death more important than the burning deaths from the blockade? And, a question that I am sure is on the government’s mind: Will Tarique come to Dhaka for the funeral?
Because of when, how, and in what political moment Koko’s death has come, this will not be, cannot be, a private death.
As I write this, I am looking at an old photo of the Zia family. This was probably taken in 1979 or 1980. The children are small, wearing shorts. I do not know who the photographer is; it may be an official photo, or from a magazine. Ziaur Rahman holds a magazine, and his two sons have books open on their laps. Khaleda Zia appears to be knitting.
The photo is staged, and it suggests certain ascribed roles – all of which were blown apart in 1981.
I look at this photograph and wonder if these two families that dominate our national politics – the Sheikh Mujibur Rahman and the Ziaur Rahman families – have they ever had, or will they ever again have, any private moments?
