Remembering Ekushey 1972

Julian Francis recalls how, on the 20th anniversary of Ekushey, hundreds of refugees gathered to begin their journey home, saying the spirit of the Language Movement had sustained them through exile and loss

Bangladesh refugee children enjoying their camp school, 1971. Photo: Manabendra Mandal

As coordinator of the refugee relief programme assisting 600,000 Bangladeshis, I was sitting in my OXFAM Refugee Relief Office near Park Circus, Calcutta on Feb 21, 1972, when I was informed by a very alarmed office messenger that a few hundred men, women and children were outside waiting for me and were shouting my name. Had they come from one of the camps to make a complaint, I wondered?

I went outside and the spokesman of the group of nearly 500 people told me that they had decided to start for home on an auspicious day and proceeded to explain to me the historical importance of ‘Ekushey’ and that year was the 20th anniversary of the day when, because of the Bengali mother language, people had lost their lives due to Pakistani police firing.

“Ekushey is one of the main reasons we have our own country now,” I was told. The refugees had come from a camp quite near to Calcutta named Digberia.

The organisers of this large group of refugees reminded me that they were all so grateful that, during the monsoon months of 1971, we had arranged to provide harmoniums and tablas in all refugee camps which were connected to OXFAM. In fact the request for musical instruments had been made by a professor of medicine who had accompanied doctor volunteers from the Bombay and Calcutta medical colleges.

He said it was thought that the music would help those suffering from depression. My visitors that day said that this music had not only helped to improve the health of all inhabitants of the camps, especially the children, but also helped them keep the Bengali music, culture and language very much alive all the time.

One elderly man said when the music was played in the camps, he could picture the green fields of his village, and when he closed his eyes he could hear the sounds of his goats and chickens. Also, with his eyes closed, he was able to smell his wife’s cooking.

With this they felt, I was told, they were always going to have a better future when they were able to return home.

They explained that they had come to say goodbye and to thank OXFAM for everything that had been done to assist them. One of them had carved a vase made of bamboo and some woolen flowers on wire stems had been placed in it. It is a gift that I have treasured for many years.

My visitors that day had heard that I had a couple of weeks earlier, gone by road to Dhaka and so asked me to tell them in detail about my journey and what I had seen. I was therefore able to prepare them for the worst while hoping, against all odds, for the best.

In my own mind, the spirit of Bangladeshis like the ones who came to see me today 54 years ago is how Bangladesh has progressed and now in 2026 there is the opportunity of a renewed beginning. The sky is the limit and so much more is possible.

This is how I remember ‘Ekushey 1972’

[Julian Henry Francis is a British-born development and social worker who played a crucial role in helping refugees during Bangladesh’s 1971 Liberation War]