A Censor Board may no longer be necessary: Orsha

Nazia Haque Orsha has never shied away from speaking out against injustice. Whether as a dedicated citizen or a committed artiste, the actress has consistently raised her voice for the right causes. During the height of the anti-discrimination protests, she stood with the people during a time of national crisis. Activism is innate for her—during her years at Jahangirnagar University, she always had a fearless stance against wrongdoings, setting the tone for the strong advocate she is today.

There has been a lot of buzz around the Actors' Equity lately. Do you think the organisation needs reforms?

Absolutely, I believe reforms are necessary. Several outdated practices and systems have been in place for far too long, lingering from a bygone era. To stay relevant and align with the demands of today, these must be updated. Artistes should be able to focus on their craft, and membership should be inclusive of all those actively working in the industry. I know many talented artistes who aren't yet members, and despite this, we are still managing to work without the guild, creating a disconnect among many of us. Reforming the Association would bridge this gap and make it more relevant and inclusive. In short, I strongly advocate for reforms within the Actors' Equity to better serve its members and the industry at large.

The industry hasn't fully bounced back yet. How are you viewing the situation?

I echo the same concerns as everyone else. I've been meeting with fellow actors regularly, and this topic keeps coming up. We're all wondering—why is there still no work? When can we get back on set? These uncertainties are weighing heavily on us. This is precisely where equity could make a huge impact, yet we find ourselves in the dark. Neither are we informed nor is the equity providing any updates. It's high time for the organisation to take charge, communicate openly, and guide us through this challenging period. Remaining silent isn't an option; they need to be the voice of the artistes they represent. 

What are your expectations from the interim government?

With the new government having been in power for a month now, we understand that nation-building is a gradual process. New appointments are being made across various sectors, but it's also essential for us to reflect on our own role in the issues of the past 15 years, including corruption. For example, a farmer who grows tomatoes might only receive Tk 12, while we end up buying it for Tk 190 taka! This shows a clear disparity: the farmer doesn't benefit fairly from his hard work, and vendors offer little choice to consumers.

Additionally, there's a stark wage gap—some people earn Tk 15,000, while others make up to Tk 2 lakh. It's vital that even those with lower salaries can afford basic necessities like three meals a day. This won't happen overnight, but with time and gradual efforts, it's achievable. The fight against corruption must be relentless and pervasive, ensuring fairness and equity in every corner of society.

As an artiste, you're likely aware that the censor board sometimes bans or halts films. Do you think the censor board needs reform?

I believe that the censor board may no longer be necessary. The power of cinema is immense—films from different countries can convey profound messages even when we don't understand the language. We might not always grasp the lyrics of every song, yet we can still hum along and feel the music's essence. Instead of a censor board, what we really need is a gradation or rating system. This would involve clear guidelines about which films are appropriate for different audiences.

A censor board can often create unnecessary complications, and it's important to consider whether those on the board truly understand the art of cinema. Replacing censorship with a well-structured rating system would allow for more freedom while still guiding viewers effectively.

You were notably active in the anti-discrimination student movement. What gave you the courage to take such a stand?

My courage comes from my experiences and background. I studied at a public university, where I was immersed in student politics and saw firsthand how people I cared about stood up against injustice. I've always been inherently bold and not easily intimidated. The turning point for me was the assassination of Abu Sayed. When a university student was gunned down, it was a shocking moment for the world, and it made me realise that remaining passive was no longer an option. Witnessing such brutality made it clear that protest was necessary. It was a national crisis, and my motivation to take to the streets was driven by a genuine sense of urgency, not by a desire for media attention.