The gates of Ganabhaban remain closed to the public, at least for now. Behind them, workers are putting the final touches on the July Mass Uprising Memorial Museum, a sprawling institution that transforms Bangladesh's former seat of executive power into an archive of resistance and political change.
Housed inside the residence that served as ousted Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina's official home for more than a decade, the museum is expected to open after final preparations are completed.
Its galleries seek to document not only the July uprising that ended Hasina’s autocratic rule on August 5, but also what its curators describe as 15 years of authoritarian governance.
Through documents, personal belongings, photographs, artworks and multimedia installations, the museum attempts to preserve evidence of state violence while recording the experiences of those who challenged it.
Ganabhaban itself carries a history that predates the museum. After Sheikh Hasina returned to power in 2009, Parliament passed the Security of Family Members of the Father of the Nation Act on October 13 that year, providing residential and security arrangements for members of the family of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman.
Sheikh Hasina began living in Ganabhaban as her official residence on March 5, 2010. For the next 14 years, the compound became synonymous with political authority and remained one of the country's most heavily guarded locations.
That changed on August 5, when Sheikh Hasina was ousted from office after weeks of nationwide protests. Thousands of demonstrators entered Ganabhaban, an event that quickly became one of the defining images of the uprising.
The place that had long symbolized state power was suddenly occupied by ordinary citizens. The interim government later decided that the residence would no longer function as a seat of executive authority but would instead become a memorial dedicated to the uprising and the years that led to it.
The conversion began almost immediately. Architects, historians, museum professionals, artists and government agencies were brought together to create an institution unlike any other in Bangladesh.
The project was led by filmmaker and then cultural affairs adviser Mostofa Sarwar Farooki, architect Marina Tabassum and Bangladesh National Museum Director General Tanzim Wahab. Around them worked dozens of young volunteers, many of whom had participated directly in the July movement.
The pace of construction left little room for delay. Ganabhaban had never been designed as a museum, forcing curators to rethink every room, hallway and staircase while preserving enough of the original residence to retain its historical significance.
Existing domestic spaces had to become exhibition galleries without erasing the traces of the building's previous life.
Those involved describe months of almost continuous work. Farooki and Wahab often remained inside the building late into the night overseeing installations, reviewing exhibition texts and reorganizing displays.
During those long sessions, Farooki frequently quoted Czech novelist Milan Kundera: "The struggle of man against power is the struggle of memory against forgetting."
For the museum's team, the line became an organizing principle.
"When we became exhausted, we watched videos of the martyrs on a large screen to remind ourselves why we had to finish this," said Zubayer Ibn Kamal, one of the young members of the project team. "We felt we owed it to them."
Before visitors even reach the main building, the museum grounds introduce the themes that continue throughout the exhibition. Sculptural installations depict some of the defining moments of the July uprising.
Nearby stands a symbolic cemetery commemorating those killed during the movement. A full-scale reconstruction of the secret detention facility known as Aynaghar allows visitors to experience a representation of spaces that became synonymous with alleged torture and enforced disappearances.
The grounds also include an open-air performance venue called the Monsoon Theatre, designed for discussions, cultural events and public programs.
The principal exhibitions occupy the two floors of the former residence. The first floor examines the years preceding the uprising, while the second is devoted almost entirely to the events of July.
The first gallery visitors encounter is a circular introductory installation presenting a symbolic overview of the Hasina years through sculpture, multimedia displays and artistic interpretations of alleged abuses, political patronage and state violence.
The exhibition then leads into what was once Sheikh Hasina's official call-on room, where ministers and visiting dignitaries were once received.
Today the room functions as one of the museum's central exhibition spaces. Investigative reports, official documents, newspaper archives and research materials are displayed throughout the gallery.
Beneath a transparent glass floor lies preserved debris recovered from the compound after August 5, creating one of the museum's most striking visual installations.
From there, visitors move through galleries dedicated to major episodes of Bangladesh's recent political history.
The room devoted to the 2009 Peelkhana killings displays photographs, military uniforms, medals and personal belongings associated with officers who died during the Bangladesh Rifles mutiny.
Another gallery examines torture and secret detention, displaying objects reportedly used inside facilities collectively known as Aynaghar.
Perhaps the most emotionally charged exhibition focuses on the May 5, 2013 operation at Shapla Square. Blood-stained panjabis, handwritten notes and personal belongings preserved by victims' families for more than a decade are displayed alongside photographs and documentary evidence.
A separate gallery explores enforced disappearances through family photographs, letters, clothing and everyday objects donated by relatives. The displays concentrate not only on those who disappeared but also on the uncertainty endured by families searching for missing loved ones.
Other rooms examine the Digital Security Act, campus violence, surveillance, kidnappings and restrictions on political expression through official records, audio recordings, digital installations and commissioned artworks.
Throughout the floor, technology is used alongside physical artifacts to recreate moments that shaped public memory during the period.
The second floor shifts from documenting repression to documenting resistance.
Here the focus narrows to the July uprising itself. Shoes, backpacks, clothing, notebooks, identity cards and mobile phones belonging to those killed during the protests are displayed as evidence of individual lives interrupted by violence.
Large multimedia installations reconstruct the chronology of the movement using photographs, videos and eyewitness testimony.
One gallery is dedicated to the role of women in the uprising, documenting their participation as protesters, organizers, medics and volunteers.
At the entrance to another room, a television continuously broadcasts the declaration of the protesters' one-point demand announced on August 3, allowing visitors to revisit one of the movement's defining political moments.
A detailed miniature installation recreates the march toward Ganabhaban on August 5, tracing the route followed by thousands of protesters before they entered the compound.
The museum also contains a reading room stocked with books, research papers, newspapers and publications related to the July movement. Among its most significant objects is the study table used by Abu Sayeed, one of the uprising's most widely recognized martyrs.
Large murals of Abu Sayeed and Abrar Fahad dominate the upper floor, giving individual faces a central place within the museum's broader historical narrative.
The museum's architecture contributes as much to the experience as its collections. Rather than concealing the building's past, the curators have allowed traces of the former residence to remain visible, creating a dialogue between what the space once represented and what it now seeks to preserve.
Artworks, lighting, sound, archival material and empty spaces are arranged with careful restraint, encouraging visitors to move slowly through the building rather than consume it as a sequence of displays.
Although much of the institution has been completed, research continues. Curators are still collecting artifacts, documents and oral histories from families of those killed, injured or disappeared. The collection is expected to expand as more people come forward with personal belongings and testimony that they believe belong in the historical record.
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Sabiha Nahla works in July Memorial Museum