Syeda Najma Akter’s life turned upside down after her separation from her husband, Syed Abul Kayes. Nearly two decades ago, she moved to Dhaka with her young children. She hoped to find solace in her only son, Syed Nazmul Hasan. She envisioned a future where his education would lift them out of hardship. But those dreams are now shattered. On July 19, during the ongoing quota reform movement, a bullet fired by the Border Guard Bangladesh (BGB) pierced her son's chest in the Aftabnagar area of the capital at around 3:30 PM. Now, Najma is left speechless, her grief too heavy to bear. The grieving mother barely speaks to anyone. She cries incessantly, day and night.

When this reporter called her yesterday afternoon, Najma Akter broke down in tears. Her voice, choked with emotion, said, “My son was innocent. He did nothing wrong. We’ve lived in this area for 17 years. No one can say that my son ever even picked up a stick. He was completely innocent. He was my only son, sir. I clung to him. I am a mother. How can I live, sir? They killed my innocent boy, sir! He never got into trouble. My son couldn’t live without me, and I can’t live without him either. How is he now? I am a mother, how can I endure this?”

Nazmul's sister, Syeda Tanjila Akter, is a management student of 2019-20 session at Titumir College. She is equally devastated after losing her brother. She behaves as if she's lost her mind. She stares at her brother’s grave all day, weeping uncontrollably. She questioned Bonik Barta, “Will my brother’s killers ever face justice? My brother harmed no one; he was completely innocent! Why did the BGB shoot him? Even if he had done something wrong, couldn’t they have shot him in the leg?”

Syed Nazmul Hasan was student at Dhaka Imperial College in Aftabnagar. He lived with his mother and sister in a rented apartment in Block E of Aftabnagar. Their father, Syed Abu Kayes, lives abroad and is estranged from the family. His mother, Syeda Najma Begum, worked as an attendant in the physiotherapy department of Farazi Hospital to support the household. Nazmul, beside his studies, worked part-time in the hospital’s dental department to help his mother.

Nazmul was a bright student and always ranked first or second in his exams, scoring GPA 5 in both the fifth and eighth grades. His widowed mother worked alone, with dreams of her son achieving a great job to ease her lifelong struggles. Remembering these hopes, Najma Akter said, “Why didn’t the bullet hit me instead of my son? I can’t describe the pain in my chest. I’ve heard that Sheikh Hasina gave the order to shoot. I blame the government for my son’s death. They shot him directly. I want to ask the government, why are they taking away innocent children and leaving mothers empty-hearted? Please pray for my son, sir.”

Then, she added, “I won’t blame anyone, sir! My son’s death came too soon. It wasn’t in my fate to keep him. Azrael (the angel of death) stood there for my boy.”

Nazmul was rushed to a local hospital, on the day of the incident, where doctors declared him dead. His mother was called after his college ID was found in his wallet. To avoid police complications, the family buried him at his grandparents’ home in Madaripur’s Gobindapur village without an autopsy.

Md. Rubel Hossain, Deputy General Manager of Farazy Hospital, expressed sorrow over Nazmul's death and told Bonik Barta, “We learned of his death on Friday afternoon. We heard that the bullet hit the left side of his chest. Such a death is truly unexpected. The hospital authority stands with the grieving family for any future needs, and will be there for them in the future.”