I remember the first time when, in utter horror, we heard the news of the assassination of Bangabandhu along with his whole family, save the two daughters.

Here we were, sailing quite smoothly after the first wave of the pandemic and congratulating ourselves for having “handled” it well. Even the WHO paid us compliments. But suddenly, within a few weeks, we seem to have gone right back where we started.

Myanmar is our only other neighbour, with India being the overwhelming first. To the credit of our policymakers, we have tried our best to maintain good relations with Myanmar notwithstanding their treatment of Rohingyas, forcing nearly 300,000 of them upon us thirty years ago, in the early nineties.

It was extremely bold as a vision, highly ambitious as a project, without parallel in scope, crucial in terms of fulfilling a need, exemplary in its execution and unprecedented as a private project in which people’s participation was the main driving force.

My generation and others close to it formed the bulk of the Mukti Bahini in 1971. The majority of Dhaka University students of the time were an integral part of it, as it was my distinct privilege.

At 50, it’s time we acted in a manner that reflects a confident country, not one that is nervous and insecure fearing that the slightest criticism will cause us harm.

Isn’t personal freedom one of the most cherished and universally celebrated principles of our civilisation? Isn’t guaranteeing this freedom the most sacred task of a modern state?

In the recent past, our honourable members of parliament have been known more for their legal actions against journalists—first under the ICT Act, then the Digital Security Act (DSA)—than for any consequential legislation in any of the vital fields of economic, social or democratic advancement.

We commend the army chief, General Aziz Ahmed, for having the moral courage and fulfilling his duty to explain to the public, through a press gathering, his own position regarding the recent media reportage on his brothers and his links with them.

Thirty years ago, the coming together of a regionally famous editor and a near-novice at journalism along with some visionary investors—Azimur Rahman, AS Mahmud, Latifur Rahman, A. Rouf Chowdhury, Shamsur Rahman—gave birth to what we called in our first editorial the “Independent Voice”.

The Al Jazeera report on Bangladesh titled “All the Prime Minister’s Men”, aired early Tuesday morning, revealed some vulnerabilities of our power structure that pivots around connections, cronyism and corruption. It has also, inadvertently, exposed the weaknesses of our media and the state of its freedom.

The happy ending of this story came about due to a mixture of pure chance and the laudable inquisitiveness of a Detective Branch (DB) police constable, Mahfizur Rahman.

Americans exercised their democratic right and elected Donald Trump as president in 2016. Four years later, they exercised the same right again and corrected what had turned out to be a disastrous mistake.

He wanted to be an excep-tional journalist, and he was. It was as if he willed himself to be what he wanted to be.

Here is a story that should alert us all. On December 29, a law student named Rejaul Karim Reja, 30, was having tea with friends at a roadside tea stall around 8 pm near his home in Barisal town.

The Election Commission (EC) must be above question. But to be so, it must answer all questions. To ignore, evade, downplay or malign citizens who ask the questions is the surest way to sow doubt in the public mind that an attempt is being made to hide, something that is neither good for the EC and definitely not for the future of democracy.

The United States has always grabbed global attention for just being what is it—the United States.

What was once a startling thunderclap passed off as a whimper, what was welcomed by millions and celebrated as the rebirth of our democracy, went hardly noticed, what was termed as the victory of the people over the military did not receive any public attention.

Winston Churchill’s comment in November, 1947 that “democracy is the worst form of government except for all those other forms that have been tried before” remains as pertinent today as it was when he stated it in the immediate post war period.

Whether we have been able to build our Shonar Bangla (Golden Bengal) or not, Mr. Monir Hossain has certainly built his and earned himself the title of “Shona” (Gold) Monir in the process.