Walls that Talk: Graffiti’s Revolutionary Voice in the ‘24 Movement -Rifat Hasnat

Following the imposition of a curfew during the student protests, graffiti reading “Killer Hasina” appeared on walls, accompanied by harsh words directed at the police. The severe breakdown in police-community relations led to significant attacks on law enforcement, a consequence of the police being perceived as a partisan force. Despite this, most of the missing officers have returned to duty, while students managed traffic control in their absence.

In the aftermath of Sheikh Hasina’s autocratic government’s fall due to student protests, graffiti has become a common sight across Dhaka, including areas like Dhanmondi, Mohammadpur, Mirpur, Dhaka University, New Bailey Road, Minto Road, and Science Laboratory. Hundreds of students have taken to painting the walls of various buildings, including educational institutions, boundary walls, road islands, metro rail pillars, and flyover pillars. They funded their own painting supplies and began jet-washing walls and spraying graffiti. These artworks feature portraits of those who lost their lives in the movement, tributes, and powerful slogans against issues such as communalism, corruption, dictatorship, and for freedom of speech and equal rights. The graffiti also includes timeless songs and poetry, reflecting the dream of a new Bangladesh.

On the walls of educational institutions along Satmasjid Road, graffiti warns black market syndicates with the message, “Shono Mahajan, Ami Noyto Akjon/Shono Mahajan, Amra Onekjon,” accompanied by handprints. Other graffiti on these walls includes slogans like “Esho Ak Hoi,” “Rukhe Darao Soirachar,” “Dhormo Jar Jar Desh Sobar,” “Desh Gorbo Korchi Pon, Khomotai Aj Jonogon,” “Durnitir Godi Noi, Notun Alo Dekhte Chai,” and “Shadhinota Enesi, Songskar Anbo.” Some of the graffiti features symbols such as a fist, a raised index finger, and a broken chain.

This phenomenon is unprecedented. The quota reform movement’s success in toppling a government is equally unprecedented. Following this bloody movement, students have once again covered the walls with graffiti. Passersby are stopping to admire these brilliant and deeply significant works, with some taking pictures on their cellphones and sharing them on Facebook.

One day, I noticed “36th July” painted on the walls of Notre Dame College near my house. Although July has only 31 days, students declared that it would continue until the fall of Hasina’s government, which eventually happened on August 5. They referred to that day as the “36th July,” a term born from the mass upheaval. Similar graffiti could be seen on the Dhaka University campus, already renowned for its graffiti culture.

Notre Dame College, typically distant from student politics, now has its walls covered with graffiti. Among these, I found a quote from the revolutionary intellectual Roma Rolla. The walls still bear anti-government slogans from the movement, which spread nationwide, from public to private universities and even schools. It transcended professions and social classes, quickly involving everyone, including workers, opposition parties, and all kinds of people. This movement, driven by student spontaneity, became a powerful force for change.

The spontaneity of the graffiti seen on the walls across the country, including the capital, reflects the triumph of the movement. At the recent third Voice of Global South Summit, Dr. Muhammad Yunus, the chief advisor of the interim government, remarked that “a large part of Dhaka has become the graffiti capital of the world.” Young students and children, aged 12 to 13, are transforming the walls of the 400-year-old city with images of a new, democratic, and eco-friendly Bangladesh. Without any central planning or budgetary support, their creations are pure expressions of passion and commitment toward the Second Revolution.

I must share my own impressions here. I was amazed by some of the graffiti. On a wall near Moghbazar, the words “Gen-Z: Rokto Gorom, Matha Thanda” caught my eye. This slogan epitomises the fervour and resilience of those who orchestrated such a massive revolution, overcoming the harshest attacks from the ruling elite. The anti-discrimination student movement displayed remarkable unity. While some activists were detained and coerced into parroting government lines, others declared their intention to keep the movement alive. The public quickly grasped the reality of the situation, recognising the government’s heavy-handed tactics.

The Hasina government underestimated the unity and resourcefulness of the younger generation. Following the government’s fall, students took it upon themselves to maintain order amidst the chaos of robberies and rumors. They even used drones to locate potential robbers. This proactive approach was a stark contrast to the older generation’s expectations. In the capital, students creatively punished traffic violators by making them assist in traffic control for 30 minutes, a task they surprisingly accepted with enthusiasm. These students, tasked with maintaining order under extraordinary circumstances, had to remain vigilant against counter-revolutionary efforts, often sharing responsibilities among themselves.

During these times, some students continued their graffiti work even while managing traffic. However, those more focused on preserving the movement’s gains emphasised that mere graffiti was insufficient; vigilance against coup attempts was paramount.

The warning has persisted. The rights of the losing party have been violated. However, the leaders of the movement were quick to condemn these actions and call for punishment for those responsible. However, under the dictatorship of Sheikh Hasina, the opposition’s rights are somehow viewed as an enemy of the government, not to mention the notion of justice for them. The graffiti on the walls is not just an expression of interest but a manifestation of the spirit of protest and a determination to build a ‘new country.’ The graffiti artists have vowed to continue their work until the Prime Minister resigns and is brought to justice. This activity is not limited to the capital; it is spreading to other areas as well. Initially, the artists funded their efforts themselves, but now they are receiving support from all sides. People from across the country are providing water and food to the graffiti artists, just as they did during the movement. We have seen instances of free food distribution and people offering water to the protesters. Tragically, a boy named Mugdho was killed by the police while distributing water. A police officer shot him at point-blank range, and the water bottle he was carrying was covered in blood. Even after 50 years of independence, we are witnessing such scenes.

His words, “Who needs water, water?” are echoed by many. Even while drinking water, we remember this smiling young man. Can we ever forget him? The fascination with Abu Saeed has now manifested as graffiti on the walls. Abu Saeed, a symbol of bravery, stands in front of the map of Bangladesh with his arms outstretched and chest puffed out. Beside him, the words “Bolo Bir Chiro Unnoto Mamo Shir” are written, as if the rebel poet Nazrul composed this immortal line for Abu Saeed. The young generation has remembered this unforgettable line to honor Abu Saeed in many graffiti pieces across the city. Can we forget how this movement spread at lightning speed with Abu Saeed’s self-sacrifice? This boy from a poor household in Pirganj, Rangpur, rose to pursue higher education at Begum Rokeya University in Rangpur. Before he was shot dead by the police, he wrote on Facebook that the country now needs people like Dr. Zoha, who sacrificed himself at Rajshahi University to save students during the 1970s mass uprising. Abu Saeed followed his example and became immortal in Bangladesh’s history. Chief Adviser Dr. Yunus himself visited his grave in Pirganj. The photo of Abu Saeed standing in front of the police with both arms outstretched now adorns the walls. He was an active coordinator of this movement. There is also a portrait of Mir Mugdho. The name of the water bottle in graffiti has become “Mugdho Pani.” Graffiti has appeared in many areas, including New Bailey Road, Dhaka University, Dhanmondi, Mohammadpur, and Uttara, symbolizing the water bottle. He took water to the streets to quench the thirst of angry students.

These events will be passed down through generations as stories, reminding people of how individuals like Abu Saeed stood against autocratic rulers, even in the face of deadly bullets. The repeated failures of various movements led many to believe that the government, entrenched like a mafia, could never be overthrown. It is astonishing to see how the movement, initially sparked by demands for quota reform, evolved into a broader protest against the government’s excesses. This was made possible by students who, disillusioned by the rulers’ injustices and falsehoods, refused to back down.

After the agitators were expelled from Dhaka University, we witnessed the awakening of Rampura and Uttara. In these areas, the streets were primarily occupied by students from private universities and colleges, with significant participation from female students. It is often said that private universities formed the backbone of the public university movement. These students poured their hearts and souls into honoring Abu Saeed, the boy from Rangpur.

Hundreds of his supporters are now covering walls across the country with graffiti, possibly painting over earlier works created by their peers in the dark of night. Some of those creators may have paid with their lives. This is why preserving the earlier graffiti, at least through photographs, is emphasised. On one wall in the capital, countless handprints painted in different colors were seen together, evoking a powerful emotional response. These young people have made history, and some call it a ‘revolution’ or a ‘second revolution.’

This period is also referred to as the second freedom.’ Regardless of the naming debate, an extraordinary opportunity has emerged for the nation, thanks to the self-sacrifice of many. The students are underscoring this in their graffiti. A viral photo on Facebook shows a young woman wearing a hijab writing about the development of Bangladesh by people of all religions and castes. For Bangladesh to achieve global recognition, it must embrace this direction. The combined graffiti delivers a unified message.