The name of Abdul Alim, the towering figure and legendary artist of Bengali folk music, holds a place of immense reverence in the hearts of Bengalis.
The voice through which the soul of Bengal’s land and people sang—his home has now been robbed of the Independence Award, the Ekushey Padak, and seven other invaluable awards and memorabilia!
After learning that this shameful and tragic incident occurred in Dhaka’s Khilgaon area, the nation is not only stunned but also outraged.
At first glance, if the thief had stolen gold earrings or money, it might have been considered a typical burglary.
But in this case, it was found that ten thousand taka in cash, even money kept for gas and water bills, remained untouched—while only the state honors were stolen. This raises the question: was the thief just an ordinary criminal?
To those for whom awards like the Independence Award or Ekushey Padak should hold no monetary significance—how did they know their value?
Has the black-market demand for state honors become so widespread that it’s now on the radar of everyday thieves?
Even more surprising is that it wasn't just awards—historic memorabilia like the Tamgha-e-Husn given by a Pakistani president were also stolen, which are priceless artifacts in the history of Bengali music.
What makes the incident even more concerning is that the family suspects someone from the inside may have been involved. Incidents like this, though rare, are not unheard of worldwide.
In 2019, numerous memorabilia related to the Liberation Struggle and the anti-apartheid movement were stolen from a museum in Cape Town, South Africa.
Personal letters, medals, and even items used in prison by Nelson Mandela were stolen. Investigations later revealed that an underground network was selling historic memorabilia online—these weren’t just emotional symbols but had turned into a kind of "crypto collectible" sold for black money.
So, the question arises—if the state recognitions of a great artist like Abdul Alim are not safe from theft, how will we protect the honor of future generations of artists?
How can we ensure the safety of such prestigious medals and memorabilia?
Police have identified five suspects, although their faces remain unclear. Just as mysterious thieves hide their faces, it is the responsibility of the investigators to unmask them.
Let the investigation proceed, but this incident has already placed the dignity of the state under question. The theft of an award is not just the theft of a metal object—it is the theft of history, culture, and national pride.
The Ekushey and Independence Awards are not just prizes; they are acknowledgments of the struggles of entire generations. This theft has insulted not just Abdul Alim's family but the entire nation. In this situation, a line from one of Abdul Alim’s own songs echoes deeply in our hearts:
"Who will I tell of the sorrow in my heart?/ I am not the owner of this house—/ It is someone else’s land, someone else’s land,’ And here I’ve built my home".
Perhaps, behind the silence of his songs, the soul of Abdul Alim is saying today: "I am not the owner of this house anymore".