As dusk fell on 21 August 2004, I received a desperate phone call from a diplomat (his identity cannot be disclosed). His voice was very urgent and said his Head of Mission demands to know whether Sheikh Hasina is safe.
Hasina was an opposition leader of the Awami League and was intermittently boycotting the parliament sessions to protest against the stubbornness of the ruling alliance of Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) and Islamist party Jamaat-e-Islami in refusing the opposition to participate in the parliamentary debate adequately.
Why, what’s the news of Sheikh Hasina I instead asked the diplomat? He disclosed that several hand bombs were lobbed at the rally, dozens of senior Awami League leaders were wounded, many more are dead and nearly 200 rally participants were grievously injured at Bangabandhu Avenue.
Please call back at the soonest, the diplomat said to confirm her status, whether she is injured and, where is she now. I could not digest the breaking news.
The call came 20 minutes after the brutal attack, which had an objective to eliminate Sheikh Hasina, and neutralise the party Awami League by killing the senior leaders, thus the opposition will be paralysed and immobilised. Indeed a perfect plan!
It was an evil dream of the so-called Hawa Bhaban, the de facto power outside the Prime Minister’s Office (PMO). It was a separate office in the posh Banani area by Prime Minister Khaleda Zia’s eldest son, an obtrusive politician Tarique Rahman (presently a fugitive in exile in London).
I called several press photographers, including Pavel Rahman of Associated Press, Rafiqur Rahman of Reuters, Shambunath Nandi of the Bangladesh Observer, and others. Unfortunately, none of them responded to my phone calls.
Out of the blues my colleague in the Bangladesh Observer, Khandaker Mohitul Islam Ranju called me. He was listening to the rally near the Dhaka Stadium, a stone throw distance from the scene of occurrence, and a stark witness of the carnage.
I asked him quickly about the Hasina, and whether he had any knowledge of her status. Which he said couldn’t mention any information in this regard.
Still not getting information about Hasina, I called a Field Officer of National Security Intelligence (NSI) who was on Awami League bit. After several anxious calls on his mobile phone, finally he responded in a stress-free mood as if nothing has happened.
I asked whether he has any information about Hasina’s status. Promptly he said that the rally has ended more than an hour ago and Hasina must have left the place.
My second anxious question was where was he (security intelligence agent)? He replied that he was at a music store at Topkhana Road (not far from the venue) and was listening to Rabindra Sangeet with a headphone. The third question was, did you not listen to other Field Officers about what happened at Bangabandhu Avenue over his walkie-talkie? He said, his walkie-talkie was switched off.
I repeated what I heard from the diplomat. He laughed at the information. I earnestly requested him to switch on his walkie-talkie.
Once he switched on the two-way radio, I could hear a clattering noise from his radio. Before I could request him to call back on any news of Hasina, he hung up and did not respond to my calls throughout the night.
Three hours after the incident, still no news of the fate of Hasina. Ranju called back and confirmed that Hasina’s private security had dashed her to Dhanmondi. I asked him which hospital in Dhanmondi? He said no, she has reached her private residence Suda Shadan.
The following day, while walking to the place of occurrence from Topkhana Road, I met the NSI officer (his name has been suppressed for security reasons) walking towards the Secretariat Building at Abdul Ghani Road.
While walking and talking, I asked him why he had abandoned his position in the rally and instead decided to listen to music with a headphone? He replied that his superior officer had asked all the Field Officers to leave the venue once Hasina arrives at Bangabandhu Avenue. So, he moved away as nothing else was expected otherwise, he switched off the radio.
By the way, who was his superior? He did not hesitate to indicate that it was none other than the Director-General of NSI, Major General Rezaqul Haider Chowdhury (a notorious officer presently languishing in prison pending appeal verdict of the infamous 10-truck arms haul in Chittagong).
To my surprise, he voluntarily gave me additional information that the NSI chief was at Holy Family Hospital at Eskaton instead of Combined Military Hospital (CMH) on a fateful evening. “Now you understand who is responsible for the incident,” the NSI officer asked and walked away, requesting not to be quoted ever.
Describing the incident, lawmaker Saber Hossain Chowdhury and former junior minister in the previous Awami League cabinet said the driver of the vehicle intelligently outwitted the assassins and bombers and saved Hasina from the wrath.
The customized bullet-proof vehicle Mercedes Benz was shot several times. The snipers continued to target the grieving Hasina seated on the front passenger side to accomplish their killing mission. The windshield, window, and door bore marks of hails of bullets.
The assassin team had deployed sharp-shooters in strategic locations on rooftops. On an ominous day, the duties of armed police were deliberately not positioned on the rooftops.
As soon as the vehicle managed to manoeuvre out of the August carnage site, the nervous Special Branch officer onboard the Mercedes vehicle sought clearance over his walkie-talkie for a secured route. An unknown officer in the control room barked at him to wait for the police escort vehicle but the driver refused to listen.
The vehicle zigzagged through the Dhaka University campus and reached home safely in 15 minutes, thus Sheikh Hasina cheated a near-death of the full-proof assassination plot.
Saleem Samad, is an independent journalist, media rights defender, recipient of Ashoka Fellowship and Hellman-Hammett Award. He could be reached at <saleemsamad@hotmail.com>; Twitter @saleemsamad
