Since Sheikh Hasina's sudden departure from the prime minister's office on August 5, and her hurried escape from the country, it was Generation Zoomers—boldly dubbed Gen Z—who stepped into the void with remarkable resolve. In the absence of established authority, they took up the mantle of responsibility, swiftly restoring order by policing their neighbourhoods, directing traffic, and halting extortions—all before the interim government could even take its oath.
Even as the new administration began the arduous task of reforming a nation long under the grip of the Awami League, Gen Z did not stand down. They embraced a new mission: reclaiming the streets that had been left in chaos by the faceless forces that sought to undermine the quota reform movement and the mass uprising. But their vision extended beyond mere restoration. They embarked on an ambitious project to rejuvenate the heart of the capital, painting over the worn and scarred walls of Dhaka with renewed purpose and hope—nowhere more poignantly than on the historic Dhaka University campus.
In the days that followed, these murals—created by students from all walks of life—began to capture the imagination of a city yearning for change. The serene yet powerful paintings became a social media sensation, with images flooding platforms like Facebook, X, and Instagram. Yet these murals are far more than just visually striking; they are steeped in meaning. Each brushstroke tells a story—of an unfinished Bangladesh, of Abu Sayeed’s ultimate sacrifice, of Ria’s tragic death on a rooftop, and of a dream for a united, golden Bangladesh. These walls, now vibrant canvases, echo with the voices of defiance and the enduring spirit of a generation unwilling to be silenced.
One mural at Dhaka University stands out with its vibrant colours and bold letters against weathered bricks. This piece is more than just art; it’s a powerful statement of identity and unity during a time of national upheaval. The central message, "Bangladesh is not a country of one nation, but of many nations," is emblazoned in fiery yellow and deep green. The deliberate colour choices—green anchoring "Bangladesh" as the land, and yellow and white words radiating like light—highlight the nation’s diversity. The deep red background, symbolising the struggle and bloodshed that have shaped Bangladesh, reinforces the mural’s message: the nation’s strength lies in unity through diversity. In this period of transformation, the mural vividly reminds us of Bangladesh’s multifaceted identity and the importance of recognising every voice in shaping its future.
In soft hues of blue, another mural at Dhaka University speaks volumes with its simplicity. Against a backdrop of sky and soaring birds, the bold Bengali script reads, “This sky belongs to Shaheed Abu Sayeed.” The sky, adorned with birds in flight, symbolises freedom—a freedom that Abu Sayeed, one of the first martyrs of the quota reform movement, fought for but did not live to see. The simplicity of the artwork belies its deep emotional resonance, serving as both a tribute to Sayeed’s sacrifice and a reminder of the ideals he stood for.
The quota reform movement, led predominantly by Generation Z, sparked a mass uprising across Bangladesh as young people demanded fairer opportunities and justice. In the aftermath of this movement, and following Sheikh Hasina's departure, Gen Z has been at the forefront of reshaping the nation. They envision a country rooted in equality, justice, and transparency—values for which Sayeed and others laid down their lives. This mural stands not only as a tribute to a fallen hero but also as a symbol of the resilient spirit of a generation determined to build a just Bangladesh.
Another mural, depicting the map of Bangladesh painted in the nation's iconic green and red, calls for standing firm against irregularities, as the youth did during the quota reform movement, which ultimately turned into a rebellion against systemic corruption. The message is clear—"If you fear, you are finished; if you stand firm, you become Bangladesh.” This sentiment echoes the resilience and determination that fuelled the quota reform movement and subsequent mass uprising. These movements, driven by youth, were not just about job quotas—they were about standing up against systemic corruption, demanding justice, and reclaiming the nation's future.
This mural, painted in striking red on a white background, carries a profound and inclusive message—"In this Bengal, there will be mosques, there will be temples, and there will be art." The symbols of the crescent moon, the cross, the Om, and a musical note alongside the script emphasise the coexistence of different religions and cultures. It encapsulates the vision of Bangladesh that Generation Z is determined to build—an inclusive, diverse nation where all beliefs and forms of expression are respected. In the chaotic aftermath of Sheikh Hasina's exit, when violence erupted across multiple districts, particularly targeting Hindu homes and places of worship, there were attempts by politically motivated groups to incite communal clashes and divert the movement's agenda. Amidst this turmoil, student representatives stood firm, using slogans and murals like this one to reinforce their commitment to a Bangladesh where every religion, culture, and art form has a rightful place. Their defiant artwork serves as a powerful statement against division and as a champion of unity in a country that embraces its rich diversity.
Another mural portrays a rickshaw puller standing atop his rickshaw, proudly saluting a group of protesters, with a green cloth tied around his head, symbolising his solidarity with the movement. The accompanying text reads, "Even a rickshaw puller's child will dream of becoming the Prime Minister." This image captures the aspirations of the working class in Bangladesh, reflecting their hope for a future where socioeconomic background does not limit one's potential. It aligns with the goals of the quota reform movement, which sought to dismantle systemic inequalities and create a merit-based society. The rickshaw puller's salute to the protesters symbolises the widespread support from ordinary citizens for the movement’s ideals—a direct challenge to the entrenched power structures maintained by the Awami League government. The mural thus embodies the hopes of the marginalised and resistance against a system that has long kept them from realising those dreams.
In vivid red, a mural depicts the face of Mir Mahfuzur Rahman Mugdho, a young martyr of the 2024 quota reform movement, with the haunting words "Do you need water?" Mugdho was known for his kindness during the protests, distributing water and biscuits to fellow protesters even amid chaos. Tragically, just 15 minutes after he was captured on video helping others, Mugdho was shot and killed during a violent clash in Uttara on July 18, 2024. His death became a poignant symbol of the movement—a reminder of the heavy price paid by those fighting for justice and reform. This mural not only honours his memory but also serves as a stark reminder of the sacrifices made by the youth of Bangladesh in their quest for a just and equitable society.
Like this mural honouring Mugdho, many others across Dhaka stand as silent yet powerful witnesses to the quota reform movement. They tell the tales of countless lives lost, dreams shattered, and the underlying issues that arose from systematic mismanagement, leadership failures, and widespread irregularities under the Sheikh Hasina-led government. These murals are not just art; they are a visual outcry against the injustices that sparked a generation to rise. Each stroke of paint is a reminder of the sacrifices made and the continuing struggle for a Bangladesh that upholds fairness, justice, and the dreams of all its citizens. The youth who championed this movement have etched their stories on the walls of the city, ensuring that their fight for a better future will not be forgotten.
