‘I miss you Piyo Baba’: A daughter waits for her father, a mother for the country he dreamed of
On 19 July 2024, photojournalist Tahir Zaman Priyo was on the streets with his camera. He was shot while documenting the unrest in the Science Lab area. Two years on, his family awaits the change he died for
Four-year-old Poddopriyo Paromita, daughter of the late photojournalist Tahir Zaman Priyo, wore her father's camera around her neck as she spoke in a documentary.
"Piyo Baba will come back. He will bring chocolate for me," she said. "Piyo Baba is not at home. When he went outside, the police came and shot him. I miss you Piyo Baba."
Recorded after Priyo's death, the video was widely circulated online and touched the hearts of millions.
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On 19 July 2024, Priyo went out with his camera to document the protests in Dhaka. He was shot dead in the Science Lab area as the unrest that would become the July Uprising spread across the capital.
Months before his death, Priyo had spoken to his mother about another dream that remained unfulfilled — the chance to cast a vote in an election that felt real.
At around 2:30pm on election day in January 2024, photojournalist Tahir Zaman Priyo called his mother from a polling centre in Dhaka.
"Amma, not even a dog or a cat has entered this place since morning," he told her.
His mother Shamsi Ara Zaman could also see a polling centre through the window of her home. A handful of people arrived from time to time, she recalled, but ordinary voters were largely absent. Priyo had become eligible to vote years earlier, yet had never experienced the kind of election he believed democracy should offer.
"When will I be able to cast a vote in a festive atmosphere?" he asked her.
Six months later, on 19 July 2024, Priyo was shot dead while documenting the protests that would grow into the July Uprising and eventually bring down Sheikh Hasina's government. Two years on, his mother still returns to that conversation.
"I would say that my son shed his blood for the right to cast a single vote," she said.
For Shamsi Ara, Priyo's death cannot be separated from the Bangladesh he wanted to see: a country without discrimination, fear or political repression, where citizens could vote freely and journalists could work with dignity.
Priyo had been drawn to cameras and visual storytelling since childhood. When he was in Class 8 or 9, he made a short film. He read widely, followed politics and took an interest in developments in other countries. His mother remembers him as quiet, calm and deeply curious.
But she had imagined a more secure future for him.
Priyo came from a broken family. His mother separated from his father when he was young and raised him herself. After years of struggle, she hoped he would complete university and find a stable government job.
However, Priyo had other plans.
After school and college in Rangpur, he moved to Dhaka and sat for admission tests at several universities, including Jahangirnagar University's Faculty of Fine Arts. But unfortunately, he could not make it. Later, he decided to study photography at Pathshala South Asian Media Institute. Relatives questioned what kind of future photography could provide, but Priyo continued. He stayed with friends to avoid paying rent and rarely told his mother when he was struggling.
The Bangladesh Priyo imagined was not built around one party or one leader. It was a country in which people could live without fear, young people could participate in politics, journalists could report independently and citizens could choose their representatives through credible elections. Some changes have taken place since the uprising. But the uprising's promise is not fulfilled yet.
"He would always say, 'Amma, I'm doing fine. Don't worry about me'," she recalled.
The insecurity did not end when he entered journalism.
His mother supported him from Rangpur and encouraged him to gain experience. She knew he could probably earn more elsewhere, but he wanted to remain in journalism and visual storytelling.
Since Priyo's death, she has repeatedly called for better pay, security and dignity for journalists. Without those conditions, she argues, journalists cannot become strong professionals or represent Bangladesh properly to the world.
Priyo himself had grown frustrated with the limitations imposed on journalism.
At one point, he told his mother that he wanted to move into documentary filmmaking and cinematography. He felt journalism did not always allow the truth to reach the public as it should.
"Sometimes you have to portray a bad person as good," he told her. "I can't accept that."
His political consciousness was not separate from his profession. Priyo followed national affairs closely, valued democratic participation and believed young people had a responsibility to resist injustice.
He once told his mother, "Amma, if there is ever a revolution, I will give my life on the streets."
"I did not imagine those words would come true." Her mother said with a crying voice.
On 19 July, as protests spread across Dhaka and clashes intensified, Priyo was on the streets with his camera. He was shot while documenting the unrest in the Science Lab area of the capital. Even after his death, his mother said, work materials remained in his pocket.
Perhaps, she believes, he had avoided telling her exactly where he was because he knew she would worry or try to find him.
The government later provided the family with Tk30 lakh in financial assistance. Shamsi Ara says the money belongs to Priyo's daughter.
"Whatever Priyo was entitled to belongs to his daughter," she said. "I need nothing for myself."
But financial assistance cannot answer the larger questions left by his death.
Two years after the uprising, Shamsi Ara wants justice for those who were killed and an honest account of what happened. At the same time, she does not want their deaths to justify another cycle of political revenge.
"There should be no place for the politics of revenge in this country," she said.
Her position is deliberately non-partisan. She supports the emergence of young political leaders and believes the older generation should guide them rather than silence them. But she also insists that no party should be shielded from criticism.
"No matter who commits wrongdoing—whether it is the NCP, Jamaat, the BNP, the Awami League or any other party—I will speak out against it," she said.
The same principle applies to governments. A party elected to office should be allowed to govern for the duration of its mandate. If voters later choose another party, power should pass peacefully. To her, that is how democracy should work.
"The Bangladesh Priyo imagined was not built around one party or one leader. It was a country in which people could live without fear, young people could participate in politics, journalists could report independently and citizens could choose their representatives through credible elections," She said.
"Some changes have taken place since the uprising. Young leaders have entered politics and the possibility of democratic competition has returned. But the uprising's promise is not fulfilled yet."
"After Priyo's death, I transformed my grief into strength," she said. "Speaking out against injustice has now become my responsibility."
Priyo wanted to capture Bangladesh through photographs and films. He wanted to tell its stories truthfully, support his daughter, earn enough to live without constant anxiety and cast a vote in an election that felt real.
He did not live to do any of those things.
For his mother, the measure of the uprising is not only that a government fell. It is whether Bangladesh can become the country for which her son believed sacrifice was worthwhile.
The vote Priyo never cast remains, in her telling, both a personal grief and an unfinished national promise.
