'Every time I close my eyes, I see my brother's bloodied face'

Mahmudur Rahman Soikot was a few yards away from his home, near his family owned shop, when a bullet pierced through his head. 

His mother Afroza Rahman, who had already left the house in search of him that afternoon, actually heard the gunshot.

Soikot died on the spot. 

"Witnesses told us that it was so sudden that he did not even realise what happened. It looked as if he was falling asleep or losing consciousness when he collapsed on the ground," said his sister, Shahrina Afroz Supti.  

"I hurriedly finished my prayers, and rushed out of the house. I could not make much headway; it was so chaotic, so much noise and tear shells everywhere. Then I heard the gunshot. I felt as if the bullet had pierced through my own heart. I let out a scream and fell to the floor," she shared with us as tears rolled down her cheeks. 

As we sat in Soikot's house in Mohammadpur, his grief stricken family members shared their stories and pictures about their young son and brother who was no more. They struggled to believe he was gone. Even Soikot's pet cat, Putu, has not been eating properly since 19 July.

"My son had no enemies. He was so polite, always smiling. After his death, all the parents and guardians in the area came to me and told me I had the perfect son," said Soikot's father Mahbubur Rahman. 

'It was not in his rizq'

Born in 2004, Soikot studied at the Feroza Bashar Ideal College till class five. He passed his Higher Secondary Certificate (HSC) from Government Mohammadpur Model School and College. He was going to turn 20 on 11 September. 

He wanted to study CSE, and was preparing for university admission. He was the youngest among three siblings. "He was so adorable, looked like a doll when he was younger. He was our baby brother. To us he was not Soikot, we called him 'Tuna', another cousin called him 'Dasdas'," said Supti. 

We went through pictures of Soikot in Supti's phone gallery. "He was 6ft 2 inches, the tallest in his batch, even taller than his teachers. He never complained about food, and ate whatever was served on the table. But he loved my cooking, always praised it," said his mother. 

He became restless from 18 July, kept watching the videos and photos of the students being killed around the country. 

"At one point, he became really angry at us for not letting him out of the house that he stopped eating," said his sister, adding, "We tried to make him understand that it was unsafe to go out, the students were not just being injured, they were being shot to death. But he was adamant, saying he felt like a coward for not being able to do anything for them." 

"He told me Abu Syed was so brave for facing the police all by himself. He knew Farhan Faiyaaz (killed by the police in Dhanmondi). His friends were taking part in the protests too."  

That Friday, Soikot woke up in the morning, had his breakfast, and went to their store. He would often sit at the store in his father's absence and on that day, his father was in their village in Sandwip. 

Then he brought food for his cat from a nearby market, took a shower and went for Jummah prayers. "Every Friday night, my daughter (Supti) comes to our house with her husband for dinner. All of us eat together, it is a family tradition. That day I prepared beef and chicken, thinking it would be the same routine. But it was not in my son's rizq to eat all these. He had lunch with food I had cooked the day before." 

After lunch, Soikot went back to the store. By that time, Mohammadpur had turned into a war zone as police unleashed a wave of brutality upon the student protesters. 

His mother told him to lock the store and come home. And he did come home for a while but it was only for a few minutes. Before she could understand anything, he stormed out. "A friend was shot by the police and he ran to help him."

But she became worried when he was not picking up his phone. Calls after calls were made but he could not be reached. "We always thought our area was somewhat safer than others, but that day it was like a war zone," she said before wiping away tears.   

'There was no way to take him to Sandwip'

They saw a few videos where someone was taking the phone from Soikot's pocket as he was lying on the ground. They believe it was the same person who received Soikot's father's call and informed him that his son was dead.  

"How can someone steal a phone from a dying person?" Supti said. 

After Soikot was shot at around 3:37 in the afternoon, there was mayhem in the area. Everyone became furious. He was quickly taken to Suhrawardy Hospital but by then he had passed away. 

"We heard the students shouting in unison, it made a huge noise. But we did not know it was because my son was killed. He was about to take out his phone, slightly bending his neck and that is when the bullet pierced through his head." 

A Facebook post recently went viral which said that every day, a man is seen at the corner near the Step shoe store in Mohammadpur's Nurjahan Road. It looks as if he is searching for something, but his eyes are vacant. This was the exact spot where Soikot was killed. And this man is Soikot's father, Mahbubur Rahman.

"It was one police officer [who shot him]. But that day, there were Jubo League men as well; they all opened fire on the students, especially after sun down," the sister went on.   

Afroza thought maybe her son was fatally injured. "I kept asking people, 'Basi asi ni? Horan khan ase ni? (Is he alive?). But I did not know it took only one bullet to kill my son."  

"We heard that his brain matter had spilled out on the roadside," said Shupti, her face contouring in pain.  

The 19-year-old was laid to rest in Mohammadpur. "There was no way to take him to Sandwip."   

'I look for my son everywhere' 

At present, the family is preparing to file a case for Soikot's murder. But they said that earlier, the Suhrawardy authorities were refusing to mention 'gunshot wound' in his death certificate. 

"They did at first in a receipt, but then refused to write the cause of death in the certificate. Just a couple of days ago, with the help of a few seniors from Sabonti's (Soikot's other sister), we got the death certificate with the real cause of death mentioned in it," said Supti. 

"They said they could not mention the term 'gunshot' because of some 'restrictions'. Why are there still restrictions even though Sheikh Hasina has fled? There were many other bodies of young boys like my brother where he was taken to be washed [before burial]. All of them were killed, just like my brother," she went on.  

They said the police who killed Soikot have been suspended but they don't know anything beyond that. But everyone has been cooperating with them otherwise. The law department at Sabonti's university said they will work for free to fight the case.

"Sometimes I think maybe we coddled him too much. Had we allowed him to grow more independently, maybe he would have been alive? Maybe he would have dodged the bullet somehow?" lamented Supti.  

She said she can't sleep at night. "Every time I close my eyes, I see my brother's bloodied face. When we went to the hospital and looked at his reports and the ECG lines were all flat, the pulse rate was zero, my heart shattered into a million pieces. He was the healthiest among us all. He was our beautiful baby boy." 

A few days ago, a Facebook post went viral. It said that every day, a man is seen at the corner near the Step shoe store in Mohammadpur's Nurjahan Road. It looks as if he is searching for something, but his eyes are vacant. He does not say anything if anyone asks him a question. 

This was the exact spot where Soikot was killed. And this man is Soikot's father, Mahbubur Rahman. 

"I go there multiple times a day. I don't feel like staying at the store, or at home. In the afternoon when neighbourhood children play cricket near the house, I look for my son in their groups. I look for my son everywhere," he told us as he wept uncontrollably.