Bangladeshi Students Protest for Qualifications against Quota

 

I am a Bangladeshi student, heart full of dreams,  

Yet my voice is stifled, torn at the seams.  

I sought equality, a place to belong,  

But my plea for justice feels so wrong.

I wanted admission, my future in sight,  

To study, to work, from morning till night.  

To help my family, on merit alone,  

Not bound by quotas, nor by a throne.

Yet the government labeled me "Razakar",  

A traitor’s name, a wound, a scar.  

I wanted peace, a life serene,  

But my cries for justice are met with a scream.

Why do they hurt us, the students who speak?  

Why do they silence the voice of the meek?  

Raped by power, killed for a thought,  

In this land of my birth, freedom is bought.

We bleed the same red, our flag waves green,  

Yet they taint it with blood, unseen.  

Our colors fade, replaced by dread,  

As the youth of our nation lie silent, dead.

The flag once bright, now soaked in red,  

A symbol of the youth that bled.  

Protests arise, our spirits undimmed,  

But they crush us down, our light grows dim.

They jam our voices, the internet cold,  

Silence the truth, the lies unfold.  

Where is my freedom, my right to speak?  

Why must our future always look bleak?

I long to live, to study, to thrive,  

Not to struggle just to survive.  

In a land where dreams are buried deep,  

And every night I weep, I weep.

I don’t want to die for daring to say,  

That my hopes and dreams should light the way.  

Sometimes I wish I’d never been born,  

In a place where the young are scorned.

Yet still, I rise, my voice will be heard,  

For every fallen, I’ll spread the word.  

We are the future, we demand our rights,  

In the darkest hours, we are the lights.

I am a Bangladeshi student, hear my cry,  

I seek a world where dreams don’t die.  

Equality, peace, a chance to be free,  

This is my homeland, and it should be.

From and For,

All The Bangladeshi Deserving Students

© NILOY SHOUVIC ROY