Sushmita S. Preetha
THE SOUND AND THE FURY
The writer is an activist, journalist and outraged feminist.
THE SOUND AND THE FURY
The writer is an activist, journalist and outraged feminist.
The interim government needs to quickly set an agenda that reaffirms its commitment to upholding women's rights.
Syeda Rizwana Hasan, adviser to the environment ministry, speaks with The Daily Star about the ongoing floods.
The verdict is in. The Appellate Division through its observations has recommended that quotas be restricted to seven percent: five percent for freedom fighters’ descendants, one percent for ethnic minorities, and one percent for people with disabilities.
Geof Wood talks to Sushmita S Preetha of The Daily Star about his latest book, in which he explores the dilemmas of being an academic immersed in the processes of development and the intersection between policymaking and activism.
That justice for rape survivors is a mirage in this country is no news, with a miserable conviction rate of three percent in rape cases.
UN Special Rapporteur on Freedom of Opinion and Expression Irene Khan speaks with The Daily Star about the recent general election, shrinking space for dissent, and the pressing need to address human rights concerns in Bangladesh.
With each new term of the ruling regime, and each new provision or law, we have learnt a bit more of self-censorship.
A barrage of fireworks light up the smoggy skies of Dhaka and I feel as if I’m in the opening scenes of a dystopian film.
Eight years ago, I saw a small ad in the Friday magazine of The Daily Star which changed the course of my life—for better or worse.
The soft light of the setting sun illuminates the entire section every time I walk in, mostly because I AM ALWAYS LATE. On one side white balloons hang, on another side a dart board.
In December 2018 and January 2019, workers from Bangladesh's ready-made garment (RMG) industry went on spontaneous mass protests and strikes around major industrial belts in Dhaka.
"Ultimately, in the long run, whether we win or lose, we are not going to be on their side. So we might as well do what we have to do as well as we can."
“Look, just look how happy and innocent he was,” says Hashi Begum as she hands me a mobile phone and points to the photo gallery.
On November 20, an undergraduate student of BRAC University (BRACU) lost his life in the university's residential campus, referred to by students as TARC, in Savar—according to official accounts, he succumbed to his injuries on the way to the hospital after jumping from the fifth floor of his dormitory.
When you meet Ayub Bachchu off stage, it is easy enough to forget that he is a legendary rockstar. The signs are there, of course—in his all-black attire, the exclusive guitars that he fiddles with from time to time and the constant influx of different types of people hoping for an audience with the king of rock.
Renu Begum* can remember little of the life she had before she moved to Dhaka and joined a garments factory at the age of 12. Her father, a fisherman, had moved to Dhaka with his family in the early 90s. But there was not much an unskilled fisherman from the village could do in a city teeming with unemployed labourers who, like him, had migrated to the capital, dreaming of untold opportunities.
A year ago, when tens of thousands of destitute Rohingya, fleeing systematic violence in Rakhine State, had arrived at the outskirts of the small tourist town of Cox's Bazar in Bangladesh, locals had opened up their hearts and their homes to their “Muslim brothers and sisters” from neighbouring Myanmar.