Last Updated on November 3, 2025 by Chicago Policy Review Staff
On Oct. 7, 2024, the 10th anniversary of my father’s passing, I yearned to connect with my older sister in Bangladesh. Unable to visit our parents’ graves herself, my sister arranged for someone to light candles in their memory. However, the images she sent me depicted not only the illuminated graves, but also the heartbreaking sight of our childhood home — vandalized and looted. The place that once echoed with our laughter and tears now stood in ruins.
This personal tragedy is emblematic of a broader crisis. Following the political upheaval on August 5, 2024, when the vast protestors compelled the then Prime Minister to escape the country, Bangladesh witnessed a surge in communal violence. The Bangladesh Hindu-Buddhist-Christian Oikya Parishad reported 205 incidents of persecution against minority communities across 52 districts since her resignation. International media outlets have also highlighted the challenges minorities faced during this transitional period. Al Jazeera reported that many Hindus have been displaced, with their homes and temples attacked, leading to a pervasive sense of fear and uncertainty within these communities. Despite sharing an unwavering love for our homeland and a commitment to uplift marginalized communities, minorities — particularly those now living abroad — often confront a disheartening question: Do we truly belong to the land where our ancestors lived their entire lives?
As a government employee for the past eight years, I understood that political transitions are inherent in any democracy. However, I never anticipated such a change would render my family vulnerable. Our lack of political affiliation did not shield us; our only ‘fault’ was belonging to a minority in a country we have always called our own.
My family’s experience was not an isolated incident. My uncle-in-law’s house, 38 kilometers away, was also brutally attacked. More recently, on March 4, a seventh grade girl from a minority Hindu family was raped. The next day, her father filed a lawsuit, but six days later, he went missing after leaving home for work. His dead body was discovered that night near his residence.
Unfortunately, what happened to this family is tragically not unique; numerous incidents of rape and oppression against minority women and businessmen have occurred — yet mainstream media remains reluctant to bring these stories to light. Most incidents surface through social media channels, making accurate numbers challenging to ascertain. Even The Daily Star, one of Bangladesh’s leading newspapers, published reports about rape incidents during Women’s History Month without mentioning victims’ religious identities. When I questioned a senior journalist about this omission, he acknowledged minorities as the worst sufferers in this extraordinary situation but chillingly added: “Reporting such incidents may trigger communal violence. To maintain harmony, we cannot report everything.”
Bangladesh’s political transition has undeniably placed minority communities in a precarious position. While the interim government refutes claims of sectarian violence as politically motivated exaggerations, the reality on the ground depicts a different story. The fear among minorities is palpable. India has expressed deep concern over the safety of Hindus in Bangladesh, urging the interim government to take protective measures. However, India is not without fault either. Despite constitutional safeguards and legal protections, Dalits in India continue to face systemic violence, discrimination, and social exclusion, experiencing brutal attacks, social boycotts, psychological torture, sexual assault, and institutionalized prejudice across various states. Though the manifestations of deprivation may vary, minorities share a common experience of suffering and pain.
In August 2024, Nobel Laureate and Interim Government Chief Advisor Muhammad Yunus promised to create interfaith harmony in Bangladesh. However, harmony cannot exist when temples are desecrated or when minorities are targeted after political regime change! Individuals like me, who were born and raised in Bangladesh, should not have to question whether we truly belong.