Sahadat Russell
There are places that carry the soul of a nation, and for Bangladesh, that place is Dhanmondi 32. This is more than just a house; it is a silent witness to the birth of a nation, the battlefield of unspeakable betrayal, and the sacred ground where dreams of freedom were both realized and mercilessly shattered. Every brick, every wall, every step of this house has absorbed the joys and sorrows of the Bengali people. But today, the enemies of history—the same forces that once opposed our independence—are trying to erase this sacred memory.
And leading this unholy effort is none other than Nobel Laureate Dr. Muhammad Yunus, a man who wears a mask of peace but works tirelessly behind the scenes to dismantle Bangladesh’s history. Today, under military protection, his hired gang of thugs, wielding bulldozers and brute force, have desecrated the sanctity of Dhanmondi 32.
Dhanmondi 32: More Than Just a House, More Than Just Bangabandhu’s Home
To the uninformed, House No. 32 might seem like just another residence, a private property of the Sheikh family. But to the people of Bangladesh, it is the beating heart of their nation’s history. It is here that Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the father of our independence, dreamed of a sovereign Bangladesh. It is here that he inspired a generation to rise against oppression. And it is here that his blood was spilled in the darkest betrayal of our history—August 15, 1975.
It was no ordinary night. It was a night that reeked of treachery, where shadows of death slithered into the home of the man who had given his life to free his people. The assassins came not just to kill a leader but to assassinate the very soul of Bangladesh.
The Night of August 15: A House Drenched in Blood
The night was still young when the first shots rang out. The traitors, armed with military-grade weapons and hearts of stone, stormed Dhanmondi 32.
The first to fall was Sheikh Kamal, Bangabandhu’s eldest son, gunned down in the reception room on the ground floor. Moments later, Sheikh Naser was slaughtered near the bathroom. The blood of the Mujib family began to pool on the floor, but the killers were far from done.
Hearing the commotion, Bangabandhu, dressed in his signature checkered lungi and panjabi, stepped forward from his room. His face carried no fear—only anger at the treachery unfolding before him.
He walked toward the stairs, determined, defiant. “What do you want?” he asked.
But the answer came in the form of bullets.
Gunfire ripped through his body. His abdomen was torn open, his chest riddled with bullets. His glasses, his tobacco pipe—all fell to the ground as his lifeless body collapsed onto the staircase landing.
But death was not enough for the assassins. Like rabid animals, they ransacked the house. They dragged women and children from their rooms, ignored their pleas, and executed them in cold blood.
Sheikh Jamal and his wife Sultana Kamal Khuku were killed next, their bodies falling side by side. Parveen Jamal Rozy, the wife of Sheikh Naser, met the same fate.
And then, in an act of inhuman cruelty, they turned to the youngest member of the Mujib family—Sheikh Russell.
The terrified child, just ten years old, clung to a soldier’s leg. “Please take me to my mother,” he begged.
But mercy had no place in that house of slaughter. They shot him in the head and dumped his small, lifeless body beside his murdered sisters-in-law.
Even the house staff and a telephone operator were executed—because in the eyes of these monsters, anyone associated with Bangabandhu had to die.
The Father of the Nation, his family, his dreams—all wiped out in a single night of barbarism. A night that turned Bangladesh’s brightest home into its bloodiest battlefield.
The House That Saw It All: From the Dream of Liberation to the Nightmare of Betrayal
For 15 years (1961–1975), House No. 32 was more than just a home—it was the command center of Bangladesh’s fight for freedom. It was here that the flames of revolution were ignited. It was from this very house that Bangabandhu delivered his Declaration of Independence on March 26, 1971, moments before being arrested by the Pakistani army.
When the Liberation War ended in victory, the people of Bangladesh did not just see Bangabandhu as a leader; they saw him as the father of a new dawn. He returned to this house not as a prisoner of war, but as the hero of a free Bangladesh.
But freedom came with enemies. The conspirators who had once betrayed the nation did not disappear after 1971. They waited in the shadows, plotting, scheming, until they struck on August 15, 1975.
A House That Must Stand—A History That Cannot Be Erased
After the massacre, Dhanmondi 32 remained silent for many years—its doors shut, its walls haunted by the echoes of gunfire and the cries of the innocent. But history does not die. On August 14, 1994, Sheikh Hasina and Sheikh Rehana reopened the house as a national museum.
Today, thousands visit this house—not just to mourn, but to remember. The bullet holes remain untouched. The walls still bear the marks of that fateful night. The staircase where Bangabandhu fell remains frozen in time.
But our enemies have not given up.
They still lurk in the shadows—Jamaat-e-Islami, Hizb-ut Tahrir, and figures like Muhammad Yunus—who want to erase this history, demolish this house, and rewrite the past.
They think bulldozers can silence a revolution. They think a nation built on blood and sacrifice will forget its roots.
But they are wrong.
Bangabandhu Lives, Dhanmondi 32 Lives, Bangladesh Lives
The Pakistan-backed conspirators of 1975 may have killed Bangabandhu, but they failed to kill his dream. His vision of a secular, progressive, and free Bangladesh is still alive in the hearts of millions.
They thought they could erase history with bullets. But history has answered back.
Whenever Bangladesh is in crisis, whenever the forces of darkness try to drag this nation backward, Bangabandhu will rise again—not in body, but in spirit.
From that same balcony of Dhanmondi 32, he will look down upon his people, raise his voice once more, and say: “The struggle this time is the struggle for our survival.”
Because Bangladesh means Bangabandhu.
Because Bangladesh means Dhanmondi 32.
And as long as Bangladesh exists, no force on earth can erase its history.
