19/12/2025
Osman Hadi, was a true voice of justice, a man who believed fairness must extend even to his enemies.
In broad daylight, he was brutally shot in Bangladesh in a targeted killing. Reports indicate that the attacker fled toward India. Since then, sections of Indian media, along with narratives from the Awami League, have attempted to label him as a radical Islamist. This is completely false.
Hadi did not belong to any established political party or traditional power structure. He was running as an independent candidate in the upcoming election—standing outside the old, corrupt system.
He was a poet, a singer, and a cultural activist who believed in resistance through art, culture, and raising political awareness—not violence. He founded the Inqilab Cultural Center, a space for poetry, music, and political dialogue. It was not an armed group; it was a cultural and intellectual platform.
Hadi spoke openly against hegemony, authoritarianism, and Indian interference in Bangladesh, including India’s support for an autocratic Awami regime that ordered violence against students during the July movement. During the Awami League era, dissent was silenced—voices critical of Sheikh Hasina or foreign influence were met with jail, intimidation, or in death. Speaking out against oppression and foreign control does not make someone an extremist.
This is not a new pattern. Years ago, Abrar Fahad was brutally murdered for a Facebook post criticizing Indian aggression over the Teesta River. History is repeating itself.
Behind his loud public presence, Hadi was an ordinary man from a modest family—a husband, a father, and a poet writing under the pen name Simanto Sharif. He helped his wife in the kitchen, carried groceries home, and lifted his child onto his shoulders when needed. His father was a respected mosque muazzin, calling people to prayer five times a day.
He dreamed of a country based on justice—one free from dictatorship, hegemony, and authoritarian control. He often said that justice must apply even to one’s enemies. He did not carry weapons; he carried words. He did not preach hatred; he demanded justice. Cultural resistance is not extremism. Speaking the truth should never be a death sentence.
People like me—perhaps cowards—cannot do much more, but we can remember, share, and speak the truth. We pray for him and for the flame he ignited in our hearts, that it may one day light the path to justice in Bangladesh’s politics.
