Seventeen-year-old Md Al-Amin still remembers the moment that changed everything.
“They left my brothers’ bodies on the Rampura Bridge and nearby, right in front of my eyes. That is what pushed me to join the protest on July 18, 2024.”
A tenth-grade student at Dhobakhola Coronation High School in Pabna, Al-Amin lived in Merul Badda, Dhaka, with his parents. Though his school was in the village, he had been in the capital during the movement last year.
From July 18, he started joining protests around Rampura. On July 19, police fired shotgun pellets near the Rampura Bridge. “I was hit a little, but I ignored it and kept protesting,” he says. “Since my house was near the main road, I was always active—at Rampura Bridge, Hatirjheel, Brac University.”
Then came August 5.
Between 11am and noon, police and Awami League activists fired rubber bullets and sometimes tear gas near Brac University. Around 1pm, police fired live rounds in front of the university.
“We got a bit scared after hearing the first bullet, but no one was hurt,” Al-Amin recalls. “When the second bullet was fired, it passed through my left leg—from the back to the front—and I fell to the ground.”
He added: “The police took my ID card, my wallet, everything. The other protesters carried me to a nearby vaccination centre, but the doctor said they could not treat me.”
As he lay outside, seven policemen appeared. “They started shooting again. The people with me ran away, leaving me behind. Seeing me alone, two or three policemen shot at me again. The others kicked me as they pleased. I was bleeding heavily from my leg because of those kicks.”
“I pretended to be unconscious. They thought I had died and left.”
After they were gone, fellow protesters returned and tried to move Al-Amin from the spot.
“We saw an army vehicle nearby. They laid a scarf on its back and placed me there. Because of the intense heat, I lost consciousness.”
When he regained it, he was in an ambulance near Brac University, receiving first aid. From there, he was taken to another hospital. “I don’t remember its name. The doctor there said I had to be taken to pongu hospital (National Institute of Traumatology and Orthopaedic Rehabilitation). They couldn’t treat me.”
After going to Nitor, the doctors said that if Al-Amin did not receive blood within 20 minutes, he would die. Since his blood type is B+, blood was arranged quickly.
“Then, one operation was performed. After the operation, they said I needed to be taken to the National Institute of Cardiovascular Diseases (NICVD). I was taken there, and another operation was done that night. The doctors there said that if the operation had been done within six hours, my leg could have been saved. I was brought to Nitor around 6am on August 6.”
Al-Amin said even after arriving at Nitor, his treatment did not progress much.
“I was admitted to the outpatient department. Most of the doctors were absent at the time. Those who were there didn’t give much importance to the surgery. Eventually, I was operated on August 10. At the time of the surgery, I didn’t know they would amputate my leg. I thought my leg might be saved. They took permission from my guardian and amputated my leg, four inches above the knee. If they had operated right when I was brought back from the NICVD to Nitor—or shortly after—maybe my leg could’ve been saved.
“I do have one regret: I didn’t receive timely treatment.”
Al-Amin was under treatment at Nitor for almost three months before returning home.
“While I was in the hospital, some organizations or funds provided financial support, like Tk5,000 or Tk10,000. At the time of discharge, they told me to return later if I needed therapy or other treatment. But I live in Merul Badda— I can’t travel by bus normally, and going back and forth costs a lot for me.”
Al-Amin said that while he was still in the hospital, Akij Group and Brac also reached out and assured they would provide an artificial leg for him. After spending another month at home, I stayed at Brac Limb and Brace Fitting Center for a month, during which the artificial leg was fitted.
“I use that artificial leg now, but walking is still painful. I can’t walk for more than 20 minutes at a stretch. The pain in my leg hasn’t gone away.”
He added that the government gave them a health card and promised that it would ensure free treatment and medicine at any public hospital. “But when we show the card now, hospital staff push us away and treat us poorly. Just two or three months ago, I went to Nitor again—they kicked us out and misbehaved with us.
“I still need therapy and some medicines for my leg, but I can’t afford them. My father is a driver—his income is barely enough to support the family, let alone cover my medical expenses.”
He also shared that while he was receiving treatment at the hospital, the authorities had promised to bring in a high-quality artificial leg from Pakistan. But that still has not happened.
A few months ago, he had a meeting with Chief Adviser Dr Muhammad Yunus at his office.
“We spoke about our legs and shared the challenges we’ve been facing,” said Al-Amin. “He too, had assured us that arrangements would be made soon for advanced artificial limb replacements. But that promise also remains unfulfilled. Every time we call to follow up, they say it will happen soon—it just needs a little more time.”
When asked whether he had received any financial support from the government, Al-Amin told Dhaka Tribune that he had received Tk1 lakh.
He was placed on the “Category B” list for the injured from the July protests. “Those who lost limbs were supposed to be in Category A,” he said. “I’ve tried to find out why I was placed in Category B, but no one has given me an answer.”
He added: “There are many who still have both legs but are listed in Category A. I don’t understand how that’s fair.”
When asked what he wants to become after completing his studies, Al-Amin said: “I always dreamed of becoming a police officer. But after what I saw during the protests—how the police acted—I don’t want that anymore. Besides, it’s not even possible now. I only have one leg.” Now, he wants to become a businessman.
When asked if he regrets losing a leg, Al-Amin said, “No. I worked for my country. I took part in the movement. I lost a leg, but I have no regrets. We were able to free the country—that’s the real success.”
If the country faces unrest again, Al-Amin says he will return to the streets.