Portrait of a wild dog collaborator - (2)
SQ Chowdhury, his assoc
picked up us : Nizam Ahmed

Dhaka, July 18 ( Total News Bangladesh):

Pulack Ghatack : Late Fazlul Quader Chowdhury and his son Salahuddin Quader Chowdhury showed shivering brutalities during the Liberation War of Bangladesh.

Nizam Ahmed, a freedom fighter and noted journalist, in an exclusive interview with this reporter described his traumatic experience, that gave him the chance to closely watch how much a noted collaborator used to hate freedom fighters, their political leadership and the party that spearheaded the liberation war.

Nizam Ahmed says : Driven by events on a fateful evening during the liberation war some 38 years ago,  I had to face a diehard collaborator who had been actively assisting  Pakistan occupation army in killing freedom loving people.
 
I was brought before Fazlul Quader Chowdhury at his Good's Hill bungalow in Chittagong with my hands tied on my back, in the evening of July 5, 1971.

Chowdhury while hosting a group of fellow collaborators at his sprawling drawing room burst into anger when two grenades and a revolver seized from us during our capture, were placed before him.

He was so angry and aggressive that he almost lost his balance and swooped on me hitting with both fists on my face and chest. " … Tora Joibangla joibangla goror, aar Hindu oley Dhutir gocha larer (you are chanting Joi Bangla and Hindus are waving upper end of dhoti in joy)," Chowdhury shouted in Chittagong dialect.

Salahuddin Quader Chowdhury, young son of Chowdhury, three Pakistani soldiers and three other armed young collaborators were among the team that raided our shelter at Hazari lane on a tip from a betrayer.

Salahuddin along with his accomplices Khoka, Khalil and Yusuf tied my hands behind and started beating me up with thick batons and canes. Myself and my two other associates were captured and were driven directly to Chowdhury's camp. 

Clad in a long loose-shirt, over a pyjama and a Jinnah cap on the head  Chowdhury burst in anger and started abusing me in his hallmark filthy words which meant "son of … will let you know what the freedom fight is."

For the first time I saw the real face of a true villain of our independence. He was shouting in anger and disgust as he found that young men like us were gradually involving in the fight against Pakistan.

He loudly uttered abusive words against Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman and his party. Being defeated by his rival Awami League candidate late Professor Mohammad Khaled, editor of Chittagong daily Dainik Azadi, Chowdhury cliamed the 1970 election was rigged with the help of Indian agents.

Chowdhury continued to say "had Sheikh Mujib been given charge of Prime Minister of Pakistan he would have merged East Pakistan (Bangladesh) with India as part of a long conspiracy against Pakistan."

"You, bloody bastards, don't know many things, so you rally around Awami League and Mujib, the Indian dog," Chowdhury tried to convince me of his stance.

As Chowdhury had finished hitting me with fist, his Pakistani-soldier body guards started beating me.  Minutes later some Pakistani troops in plain-clothes from the Army Field Intelligent Unit came down and took me over for interrogation. Earlier my associates were separated from me soon after we had been driven to the Goods Hill.

They used lashes, rubber coated sticks and other materials to beat me up. For several hours they thrashed and interrogated me. My whole body including the tied hands and fingers were swollen abnormally with severe pain.

Despite my youthful age of 18 with a gymnastic college background the physical torture meted on me proved too heavy and at one stage I was feeling that I would collapse any moment.

As it was deep night and the torturers had become tired there was little respite for me. At one stage a young son (Salahuddin) and a daughter of Chowdhury came near me as I was lying injured with swollen body. They cut jokes and made fun on me for a while.

As my condition became shaky at around midnight, I was taken to Chowdhury's garage, where I found my two camp mates tied up and I could understand that they had also been mauled by troops and collaborators.

The Pakistani soldiers roped me with a wooden pillar of the garage still my hands tied on my back.  I would never be able to explain, the physical and mental pain that I had endured.

Time ticked on. A second seemed to be longer than an hour. But lastly the sun ushered in the eastern horizon and we were still not knowing about our fate.

In such a situation, being a Muslim, in my Namaz I prayed to Allah for solace. Even in my Namaz they used to kick me from behind, shouting, "You have turned a Hindu, Namaz is not for you".

Each of us was served with a flattened oily bread and a cup of tea. Some one untied us, being severely hungry I tried to eat. But failed as I could not move my battered and swollen hands and fingers.  Even my jaw was too painful to chew anything and was feeling much difficulty in swallowing my inner-mouth secretions.

The day was a respite in torture. But back in the evening, the plain clothed monsters showed up again. In the name of interrogation I was subjected to beating again. Later they took me to a nearby army camp at the Niaz Stadium (now M.A. Aziz Stadium,  a test cricket venue), at mid-night past July 6.

It was another hell studded with detained freedom fighters, volunteers, political activists and a cross section of people.  Routine torture by physical beating, electric shock and frightening etc were feature of the detention centre.

Besides torture during interrogation, new batches of sentry started their respective four-hour duty with lashing the inmates. Some 20 people, with four massive lashes each.

There was no sanitation facility and the detainees had to sleep on dirty floor. After a week of interrogation I was sent to Field Intelligent Unit at Chittagong Cantonment on the night of July 13.

After a renewed torture there I was sent to Chittagong jail where I was placed in a cell meant for condemned convicts awaiting execution, until the end of the liberation war.

Thanks to Allah that he kept me alive at a time when Pakistani occupation troops and their local lackeys killed millions of innocent freedom loving Bangalees.