“Mother, I am going to the protest. I can no longer restrain myself. Sorry, Abbu… I am disobeying you. I couldn’t just sit selfishly at home,” these were the final words of Martyr Anas in a poignant letter he left behind before defying his family’s pleas and joining the protest that would cost him his life
“Our brothers are sacrificing themselves for the future generation—if a disabled boy, a seven-year-old, and even a limping man can join the movement, why should I stay behind?.”
“One must die someday. Instead of staying home out of fear, to embrace bullets on the street in protest is a more honorable death. One who gives their life for others is a true human. If I don’t return, don’t grieve—be proud. I ask forgiveness for all my mistakes in life. – Anas,” he wrote in the letter.
Shahriar Khan Anas (17), a class ten student at Gandaria Adarsha Academy, was shot dead by police at around 12:42pm on August 5, 2024, amid deadly attacks of police at the capital’s Chankharpul area during the Anti-Discrimination Student Movement that ousted Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina bringing an end to 16 years of dictatorship.
Few hours back, Anas left home to join protest defying his family’s pleas to stay away and leaving heart-wrenching letter addressed to his parents, which has since touched millions across Bangladesh and beyond.
“I see him in my dreams, and whenever I close my eyes, I see Anas standing there. I can’t sleep. It’s been nearly five months now, and we haven’t had a moment’s rest… it feels like my precious gem is still right here with me,” said martyr Anas’s father, Saharia Khan Palash, as he shared memories with BSS in a voice heavy with grief.
On the day of his death—August 5, 2024—Anas wore a white shirt and black jeans. When a police bullet tore through his chest and exited his back, his white shirt was drenched in blood, turning completely red.
Local residents wrapped his body with the national flag and, as per Islamic tradition for martyrs, buried him without washing the body. His bloodstained shirt and a bracelet he wore were kept by his mother, who still weeps when she sees them.
Anas was the eldest son of Sanjida Khan Deepti (36) and Saharia Khan Palash (42). He had two younger brothers: Safwan (5), who still misses his playmate dearly, and Sufiyan (2), who used to call Anas “Ana.” Now, he cries out “Ana, Ana!, when Sufiyan sees wall paintings of Anas in the neighborhood.”
A student of science at Gandaria Adarsha Academy, Anas was preparing for his SSC exams. His name, Shahariar Khan, was originally his father’s, but a clerical error resulted in the same name being passed on.
Fearing violence, his parents had forbidden him from joining the protests. But on that fateful morning, Anas packed essentials—cotton, bandages, antiseptic, pain gel, povidone iodine, extra clothes—and left secretly.
His father recalled, “Around 9:30pm on August 5, my cousin Meheruf saw Anas exiting the Kotwali police station. He avoided Meheruf and kept walking. At Tantibazar, he met two activists and asked to join them. He walked over six kilometers from Gandaria to Chankharpul, where security forces clashed with protesters opposite the burn hospital. First, birdshot hit him. Then, as the protest moved into a narrow alley, a bullet from an APBN officer struck him fatally.”
Several residents captured videos of Anas’s final moments. One clip shows his lifeless body lying in the alley at exactly 12:42pm. Nearly two months later, an Ansar member of Dhaka Medical college’s Faiz-e-Rabbi hall gave the footage to Anas’s father.
When he left for the protest, Anas had only 300 Taka in his pocket, an old Nokia phone without a SIM card, and an “Allahu” nameplate tucked in his shirt—still found on him after death. Jagannath University student Sourav found the contact numbers in his phone and called Anas’s mother, urging her to rush to Mitford Hospital.
“Reading his letter shattered me,” said his father. “I felt like I couldn’t stay home like a coward. I decided to visit my mother’s grave first and then join the protest too. Just then, we got a call from an unknown number—repeated calls. We feared his asthma had returned due to running. We rushed to the hospital.”
At the hospital, authorities allegedly tried to remove Anas’s body as “unclaimed corpse,” students intervened. “Sourav and others insisted we were on our way. That he was not unclaimed,” his father recalled tearfully.
“I first mistook an injured boy for Anas and hugged him. Then I was told his body was inside, near the scissor gate—where the morgue is. I fainted. When I came to, I saw my beloved boy’s lifeless body. The police gave us one minute to remove it. We carried him out ourselves. There were no rickshaws or CNGs—just panic everywhere. We finally found a rickshaw and left.”
A rickshaw puller later told them he had seen Anas being shot in Chankharpul.
BSS interviewed Anas’s father again on December 16, Victory Day. His maternal uncle, Afiat Hossain Ifti (21), who was Anas’s closest companion, was also present.
“We are originally from Bikrampur in Munshiganj. My grandfather settled in Dhaka. I was born near Ahsan Manzil. My father passed away when I was seven. My mother raised us with great hardship. She died last August, and we buried Anas beside her,” he said.
Anas’s mother added, “He was so gentle. Even when scolded, he would just lower his head. He never lied, not even to avoid punishment. He used to bring breakfast for everyone, and saved money from his tiffin allowance. He studied late into the night and never asked for food, just hinted, ‘Are you going to eat?’ He would wash the dishes afterward so I wouldn’t have to.”
Sobbing, she added, “He prayed regularly and led long family prayers. He was so modest he wouldn’t even drink a cup of tea on the street. When he died, the entire neighborhood mourned.”
Outraged locals broke into a club known to support authoritarian forces. In a symbolic gesture, the neighborhood street, formerly known as Dinanath Road in Niketan, was renamed as ‘Shaheed Anas Sarak’ by local residents.
Community president Altaf Hossain, returning from Hajj, gave the shroud he wore in Mecca to wrap Anas for burial.
His funeral was held at Dhupkhola field, and he was laid to rest at Jurain Graveyard with his grandmother.
At Jurain graveyard, authorities reportedly refused to list “killed by police” on his death certificate. “They told us to write ‘accident’ or ‘road death.’ That’s fascism—telling cemetery staff to hide the truth. We didn’t even get a death certificate that day. My mind wasn’t working after seeing my son’s body. We got the certificate on August 07, only after a senior doctor took responsibility.”
“Monday has become a fateful day in my life,” said Palash. “He was born on an Eid Monday, died on a Monday. I got my first salary after his death on a Monday. And today, I’m talking to you on a Monday.”
Previously a small business owner, Palash lost his livelihood during the lockdown. Activist Pinaki Bhattacharya from France contacted him after the tragedy and arranged a job for him at a private company, where he now earns 20,000 taka a month.
Regarding legal proceedings, Anas’s maternal grandfather filed a case in the International Crimes Tribunal against Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina and 24 others, including four direct eyewitnesses.
