Block Raid: The night comes for the students

A few nights ago, a phone call came. The voice on the other end said, "Hey, two police cars are blocking the alley! I think they are doing a block raid. What should I do?." The voice quivered.  

The caller was an active protester. So his fear is justified. When the police started to check people's phones at their will, he was in a constant state of panic, and he was not alone. 

That night, luckily, it was just a regular patrol. 

But, the block raids are not entirely over. House visits are still ongoing and so the panic and constant state of fear still engulf – in some cases whole – thousands of young students across Dhaka. 

Since 25 July, reportedly, a total of 3,007 people have been arrested in Dhaka city. Among them, 87% have no political affiliation. This figure includes those who have been arrested from the "block raids" and elsewhere. There is no data available that states how many were arrested through block raids. 

We talked to some of the eyewitnesses about such raids, who were not taken away themselves. To protect their anonymity, aliases are used and any information that may give away their identity has been slightly altered. 

We have also tracked down some students who were picked up from "block raids" and later released. But they refused to talk to any media, even anonymously. 

On 26 July, there was an extensive block raid in Mirpur DOHS, ECB Chatter, Matikata area by the law enforcement agencies who continued their door-to-door searches in residential areas to arrest people involved in 'vandalism' during the recent student protests. 

Amjad is a young private job-holder who lives with his family in Matikata, Mirpur.

"After midnight, the internet connection went away. It was unstable from the evening," he recalled, "There were 3-4 police cars in our alley. Police visited several buildings and checked the identity cards of students and their mobile phones during the raid. They had a list." 

One of the neighbours tried to film the raid from his window with his phone. A policeman saw it and shot a blank round towards his apartment to scare him off. 

"There were some students on one of our building's floors," he said, "they were looking for them. Luckily, they had already left their flats. So, the police left. The whole time, it felt like my heart was in my throat, any time, I would faint from fear. Thank God we survived." 

"Then they rushed inside, and broke down our apartment's door. They were rummaging through our rooms, looking for any hidden person. I was so scared," said a public university student, recently raided, "I had removed all Facebook posts, and cleared my gallery. So, when they checked my phone, they did not find anything. They checked my mother's and brother's phones as well. They found nothing."

Monira, a public university student who lives with her mother and a college-going younger brother in Rampura.

He was lucky that his name was not on the list. But the next person was not.  

Rehana is a student of a private university who lives with her family in Uttara. She has been vocal on Facebook about the protest. She also physically joined the protest on 16 July and 17 July.  

"I was hearing about the police raids and arresting students who had photos of protests, police raids, or supportive posts on Facebook, or even have VPN installed on their phones. So, I had cleared my chats, and removed all my Facebook posts, even my browsing history," she recounted. 

On 27 July, when she was going out to her tuition, she saw 7-8 policemen in front of her house. Only one of them was in uniform, others had their vests only. She was scared and alerted her family. It was her younger sister's birthday. 

Around midnight, there was a commotion at the gate of her building. There were policemen, demanding entry. The caretaker was unwilling to let them in as they had no warrant. 

The landlady went downstairs and confronted them. But she had to let them in after being threatened. "They came straight to our house," she recalled and cried, "they were constantly badmouthing us with the worst kind of abuse." Violent threats were also made, according to Rehana's account. 

"I gave them my phone without any resistance. They went through my chats, my Facebook profile, my call logs. I could not do anything; I was frozen in panic." 

Rehana also said that the policemen threatened her that there would be serious consequences if they were ever to find out that she joined protests or made posts on social media platforms. Later, she came to know that one of their neighbours was acting as the police informer. He gave her up.  

At this point, she broke down in tears over our phone call.  

"Why did they assault my family members? Why punish them for my mistakes?" 

Suddenly, she asked, "Tell me something, please. Are you really a journalist? Or are you a police informer or an Awami League spy, trying to test my silence over the issue? Please, don't hurt us, I will leave the country soon." 

The plea shattered my heart. At that moment, I was left with no words. 

Her story, as horrifying as it may be, ended in her staying out of jail and without any injury. But that cannot be said for everyone. 

Monira is a public university student who lives with her mother and a college-going younger brother in Rampura. Her father had passed away years ago. On the night of 25 July, around 3 am, there was a loud commotion at their main gate. Her mother went down and saw that the police were there, trying to break in. All but one of them were in uniform. 

When she refused to open the main gate without a warrant, they brought a locksmith to break the lock. It was at 4 am when they finally broke the lock. 

"Then they rushed inside and broke down our apartment's door. They were rummaging through our rooms, looking for any hidden person. I was so scared," she said, "I had removed all Facebook posts, and cleared my gallery. So, when they checked my phone, they did not find anything. They checked my mother's and brother's phones as well. They found nothing."  

"My mother is a pious woman. So when the police first came to our gate, she was on her prayer mat, praying. When they broke into our apartment, they found her praying. When she protested the intrusion, one of the policemen made serious threats and also called Monira's mother "a terrorist." 

"Suddenly, one of the policemen looked at my brother and said — Check under his pants. See if he has any bullet wounds," said Monira. Her voice broke at this point. "Then they pulled down his pants and found no wounds. Yet, one of them suggested — "Let's take him with us." 

Seeing this, the mother went livid. The terror was palpable. It felt like life and death. In response to the mother's reaction, the police hurled more abuses at her. 

When they were dragging Monira's brother out, her mother pleaded with them to at least guarantee that her son would come back. One of the policemen mocked her, saying, "Who knows? Maybe he will never come back." 

But eventually, they were able to bring him back from the thana later. On that night, almost all the houses with young people were raided in that locality. 

After the chaos settled, Monira's mother was compelled to pay for the damages done to the locks, etc. 

These are only a very few examples. Many more instances remain where those taken away during block raids are yet to be released; or the people are too afraid to speak up, even anonymously.