Wednesday, 31 December, 2025
Mother, my guide, my fight—gone forever, leaving only tears in her wake.
That was the rhythm that struck my heart when Begum Khaleda Zia, the Mother of Democracy, political mother to millions like myself, passed away last night.
Just before the Fajr Azan echoed across the quiet streets, my phone rang. The message shattered the dawn: Begum Khaleda Zia is no more. The news hit as if I had lost my own mother all over again, her memory lingering like an unhealed wound.
The dawn mist still clung to the streets, the sun yet to rise, and the call to prayer floated across a city stunned in grief. BNP Media Cell confirmed the sorrowful news: the uncompromising leader, the Mother of Democracy, had left us forever.
Next door, elderly Altaf Uncle’s hands trembled, prayer beads slipping through his fingers. Tears streamed down—not the casual sorrow of citizens hearing of a prime minister’s death, but the grief of children mourning the loss of their mother.
News of her death spread quickly through the city in the early hours, cutting through the cold winter morning and heavy fog. People across the country were stunned. Silence fell, while scenes of grief unfolded inside and outside the hospital.
Across the nation, millions felt the same: the loss of a guiding light, a mother of courage and resilience, the one who stood for democracy when the winds of oppression blew strongest.
BNP Chairperson Begum Khaleda Zia, a towering figure and political mother to millions, has passed away. From guiding the fight for democracy to standing as a symbol of courage, her legacy endures even as the nation mourns.
This two-time former Prime Minister, passed away at 6:00am on Tuesday at Evercare Hospital, after 37 days of treatment. She was 80. “It is with a heavy heart that we announce the passing of our esteemed Chairperson,” said BNP Secretary General Mirza Fakhrul Islam Alamgir, his voice thick with emotion.
Now, the eyes of millions—like mine—who answered her call from 1982 to 2024 are filled with tears. Our hearts beat a mournful rhythm: “Mother, you are gone. Your voice is silenced, your fight has ended, and we are left alone, weeping in your shadow.”
The story of Begum Khaleda Zia was never just that of a politician. She was a woman thrust into history’s unforgiving gaze, standing for more than four decades—often alone, often embattled, but never bowed. Born a quiet girl from Dinajpur, she had no ambition for power, yet by the time of her death she had led the BNP for over 40 years, stood at the heart of the 1990 uprising that ended military rule, and served three terms as Prime Minister of a nation she helped reshape.
After the assassination of President Ziaur Rahman, she entered politics reluctantly, initially in a symbolic and organisational role. Yet she rose to become Bangladesh’s first female Prime Minister and a symbol of democratic struggle. Over decades, she remained the BNP’s steadfast leader, championing the rights of the people, advocating inclusive development, and shaping the nation’s economic and political trajectory.
Her leadership was defined by an uncompromising commitment to democracy and social justice. Under military rule, she led mass movements, including the nationwide Long March in 1983 and the Seven-Party Alliance, to restore democratic governance. After Sheikh Hasina’s return to power in 2009, Khaleda Zia endured political and legal marginalisation, imprisonment, and restricted freedom—yet she remained a symbol of resistance and dignity.
Since 1982, Begum Khaleda Zia led the fight for democracy, inspiring millions of youths—from university and college students to villagers—whose relentless struggle culminated in the 1990 uprising that toppled military rule. The writer was one of those youth fighters.
As Prime Minister, she pioneered financial inclusion and social protection. Her government expanded social safety nets, promoted female education and employment, introduced microcredit access, and coordinated disaster relief during floods and cyclones.
She oversaw the country’s transition to a market-oriented economy, fostering private-sector growth, financial sector reform, and capital market development, while maintaining macroeconomic stability and encouraging export-led expansion.
Even in adversity, her humanitarian advocacy never wavered. Khaleda Zia’s dedication to education, health, and welfare, especially for women and children, exemplified her belief that democracy is meaningless unless it serves the people. She sacrificed personal comfort and political security for the well-being of her nation.
By the time of her passing, Khaleda Zia was physically weakened and politically silenced, yet her symbolic power endured. She had become a living reminder of the costs of dissent and the resilience required to uphold democratic ideals. Her life closed a chapter of Bangladesh’s history defined by courage, conviction, and sacrifice, leaving a nation shaped by her vision, a party rebuilt from near-ruin, and a legacy of inclusive leadership and economic reform.
So now, the eyes of millions—like mine—who answered her call from 1982 to 2024 are filled with tears. Our hearts beat a mournful rhythm: “Mother, you are gone. Your voice is silenced, your fight has ended, and we are left alone, weeping in your shadow.”
Yet even in sorrow, we remain alive, carrying forward the hope she inspired.
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Mother, my guide, my fight—gone forever, leaving only tears in her wake.
That was the rhythm that struck my heart when Begum Khaleda Zia, the Mother of Democracy, political mother to millions like myself, passed away last night.
Just before the Fajr Azan echoed across the quiet streets, my phone rang. The message shattered the dawn: Begum Khaleda Zia is no more. The news hit as if I had lost my own mother all over again, her memory lingering like an unhealed wound.
The dawn mist still clung to the streets, the sun yet to rise, and the call to prayer floated across a city stunned in grief. BNP Media Cell confirmed the sorrowful news: the uncompromising leader, the Mother of Democracy, had left us forever.
Next door, elderly Altaf Uncle’s hands trembled, prayer beads slipping through his fingers. Tears streamed down—not the casual sorrow of citizens hearing of a prime minister’s death, but the grief of children mourning the loss of their mother.
News of her death spread quickly through the city in the early hours, cutting through the cold winter morning and heavy fog. People across the country were stunned. Silence fell, while scenes of grief unfolded inside and outside the hospital.
Across the nation, millions felt the same: the loss of a guiding light, a mother of courage and resilience, the one who stood for democracy when the winds of oppression blew strongest.
BNP Chairperson Begum Khaleda Zia, a towering figure and political mother to millions, has passed away. From guiding the fight for democracy to standing as a symbol of courage, her legacy endures even as the nation mourns.
This two-time former Prime Minister, passed away at 6:00am on Tuesday at Evercare Hospital, after 37 days of treatment. She was 80. “It is with a heavy heart that we announce the passing of our esteemed Chairperson,” said BNP Secretary General Mirza Fakhrul Islam Alamgir, his voice thick with emotion.
Now, the eyes of millions—like mine—who answered her call from 1982 to 2024 are filled with tears. Our hearts beat a mournful rhythm: “Mother, you are gone. Your voice is silenced, your fight has ended, and we are left alone, weeping in your shadow.”
The story of Begum Khaleda Zia was never just that of a politician. She was a woman thrust into history’s unforgiving gaze, standing for more than four decades—often alone, often embattled, but never bowed. Born a quiet girl from Dinajpur, she had no ambition for power, yet by the time of her death she had led the BNP for over 40 years, stood at the heart of the 1990 uprising that ended military rule, and served three terms as Prime Minister of a nation she helped reshape.
After the assassination of President Ziaur Rahman, she entered politics reluctantly, initially in a symbolic and organisational role. Yet she rose to become Bangladesh’s first female Prime Minister and a symbol of democratic struggle. Over decades, she remained the BNP’s steadfast leader, championing the rights of the people, advocating inclusive development, and shaping the nation’s economic and political trajectory.
Her leadership was defined by an uncompromising commitment to democracy and social justice. Under military rule, she led mass movements, including the nationwide Long March in 1983 and the Seven-Party Alliance, to restore democratic governance. After Sheikh Hasina’s return to power in 2009, Khaleda Zia endured political and legal marginalisation, imprisonment, and restricted freedom—yet she remained a symbol of resistance and dignity.
Since 1982, Begum Khaleda Zia led the fight for democracy, inspiring millions of youths—from university and college students to villagers—whose relentless struggle culminated in the 1990 uprising that toppled military rule. The writer was one of those youth fighters.
As Prime Minister, she pioneered financial inclusion and social protection. Her government expanded social safety nets, promoted female education and employment, introduced microcredit access, and coordinated disaster relief during floods and cyclones.
She oversaw the country’s transition to a market-oriented economy, fostering private-sector growth, financial sector reform, and capital market development, while maintaining macroeconomic stability and encouraging export-led expansion.
Even in adversity, her humanitarian advocacy never wavered. Khaleda Zia’s dedication to education, health, and welfare, especially for women and children, exemplified her belief that democracy is meaningless unless it serves the people. She sacrificed personal comfort and political security for the well-being of her nation.
By the time of her passing, Khaleda Zia was physically weakened and politically silenced, yet her symbolic power endured. She had become a living reminder of the costs of dissent and the resilience required to uphold democratic ideals. Her life closed a chapter of Bangladesh’s history defined by courage, conviction, and sacrifice, leaving a nation shaped by her vision, a party rebuilt from near-ruin, and a legacy of inclusive leadership and economic reform.
So now, the eyes of millions—like mine—who answered her call from 1982 to 2024 are filled with tears. Our hearts beat a mournful rhythm: “Mother, you are gone. Your voice is silenced, your fight has ended, and we are left alone, weeping in your shadow.”
Yet even in sorrow, we remain alive, carrying forward the hope she inspired.
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