If I Die/Ashiqur Rahman

Five years have passed,
but your voice still walks among us.
Five years have passed,
but your name still lives
in the hearts of the Rohingya.
Mr. Mohib Ullah,
you spoke when we were afraid,
you stood when we were displaced,
you carried the pain of a people
who had been forced from their homeland.
You spoke of dignity.
You spoke of justice.
You spoke of peace.
You spoke for the Rohingya
when the world was listening.
Then one night,
a voice became silent.
A life was taken.
A family was left in grief.
A community was left asking:
Why?
Who will answer?
Where is justice?
Five years have passed,
yet the questions remain.
Your mother remembers.
Your family remembers.
Your community remembers.
And a new generation remembers.
We, the Rohingya Gen-Z,
carry your memory forward.
We carry your courage
through the darkness.
They may have silenced your voice,
but they could not silence
the dream you carried.
A dream of dignity.
A dream of justice.
A dream of peace.
A dream of returning home
with safety and freedom.
Five years have passed.
But time cannot erase a life.
Time cannot erase a voice.
Time cannot erase the truth.
We ask for a full, transparent,
and impartial investigation.
We ask that those responsible
be held accountable through justice.
Because silence is not justice.
Waiting is not justice.
And forgetting is not justice.
Mr. Mohib Ullah,
we remember your courage.
We remember your sacrifice.
We remember your voice.
Your story remains with us.
Your dream remains with us.
Your memory remains with us.
And as long as the Rohingya remember,
your voice will never truly disappear.
Five years have passed.
We still demand justice.
Justice for Mohib Ullah.
Justice for the Rohingya.



