When Sejad Hasan was born, his father was in jail. Nine months of his life passed without the affection of his father. Perhaps, his mother, Kaniz Suborna, hoped that one day the father of her child would return from prison, embrace their son, kiss his forehead, and teach him to walk. But perhaps Suborna, overwhelmed by the vindictiveness of our politics and the inhuman state machinery, sought release from the pains of the world by taking the life of her young Sejad and then her own.
But can Jewel Hasan Saddam, whom she left behind, forgive himself? Can this state heal the wounds that have accumulated within Jewel's heart?
After the lifeless bodies of 22-year-old Kaniz Suborna and her 9-month-old son Sejad Hasan, wife and son of the banned Chhatra League leader Jewel Hasan from the village of Sabekdanga, Bagerhat Sadar Upazila, spread on social media, we are left asking ourselves: will the Sejads forgive us?
Countless families have been victims of the ruthless politics of vengeance that has developed here over the past few decades. During the previous authoritarian government, countless people had to remain in prison for days on end in politically motivated cases.
There has been no exception to this even under the interim government. Many wives like Kaniz count the days waiting for their husbands. Many children like Sejad Hasan long for their father's love. But as the culture of vengeful politics continues through the ages, many well-organised families fall apart. From politically motivated lawsuits to corruption and irregularities that arise from being involved in politics, many are led astray.
The leaders and parties causing Jewel and others to remain incarcerated live safely and comfortably abroad, while thousands of families like Jewel's struggle to handle political cases. They are forced to drain their savings and borrow money to pay for legal fees. Yet, the political leaders who once supported them are nowhere to be found during these dire times.
I don't know the details of the case against Chhatra League leader Jewel Hasan. However, a letter claimed to have been handwritten by him and circulated on social media (which I cannot verify) suggests that on 24 November 2024, the day he was supposedly involved in a case (GR 306/24), he was reportedly in India for medical treatment. His lawyer was instructed to show his passport in court as proof.
Whether the letter is true or false, if it is indeed true, there is no basis for the case against Jewel Hasan. During the Awami League era, such fictitious cases were often filed to suppress rivals, where defendants were abroad yet cases were filed against them in the country.
Jewel's family members have reported that Kaniz Suborna became increasingly depressed due to her husband's prolonged imprisonment and eventually succumbed to mental strain, leading to her taking her own life and that of her child. Who is truly responsible for the deaths of Suborna and their child?
The deaths of Jewel Hasan's wife and child reveal the inhuman face of state machinery. Despite fulfilling all terms for ''parole'' to see his wife and child for the last time, Jewel Hasan had to see his only child’s face one last time at the prison gate, as he was not granted parole.
According to media reports, Jewel Hasan's cousin, Sagor Farazi, stated, "After Jewl's wife and child passed away, we contacted the prison. Yet, he was not granted parole."
A ''parole'' application made by Jewel's uncle, Hemayet Uddin, has circulated on social media, but it was not approved by the administration. It might have been due to the weekend or bureaucratic red tape. However, death does not wait for the weekend. Matters of arrest and release are not bound by weekdays. It is imperative to investigate why Jewel Hasan was not granted parole.
According to the parole policy issued by the Ministry of Home Affairs on 1 June 2016, parole applications can be submitted for the death of seven types of close relatives, such as the prisoner's parents, in-laws, spouse, children, and siblings.
Parole can be granted for up to 12 hours, a decision which rests with the district magistrate.
Under the ‘parole’ provision, the accused can attend the funerals of their close relatives, but some questions still remain. Papers frequently depict prisoners in handcuffs at funerals—an inhuman sight no one wishes to see. The government should amend parole-release regulations, prioritising the needs of prisoners during emergencies, which should be managed by the prison authorities.
One day the Jewel might indeed be free, but nothing can compensate for the loss of what Jewel valued dearly. Our vision of a humane and just Bangladesh remains unfulfilled—a nation where every child is safe. If we fail in this, irrespective of reforms or laws, Bangladesh cannot progress far.
#Dr. Nadim Mahmud is a researcher, University of California.
Email: [email protected]
*The opinions expressed are the author's own.
#This article, originally published in Prothom Alo online edition, has been rewritten in English by Rabiul Islam