Struck by lightning in the chaos of the protests, Muhaimin Pulok fights to protect others from the same evil that changes his life

The sound of gunfire echoes through Muhaimin Pulok’s video. The crowd disperses, shouts ring out, and then everything changes. As Pulok captured the July unrest unfolding on the streets of Dhaka, a single bomb from a police rifle tore through the air and damaged his left eye. That moment of pain and darkness has since turned into a deeply personal campaign — an attempt to banish pellet guns from the crowd control arsenal.

Pulok never thought he would be thrust into this role. An artist and curator with a keen eye for detail, he used to collect and study various works of art. But since that July day, his focus has shifted from aesthetics to activism. his facebook page, Stop using pellet guns for crowd controlit became a platform for his call to ban the indiscriminate guns that now threaten the vision he once held dear.

It was one of the most turbulent weeks of 2024. Pulok did not expect his day to unfold as it did on that chaotic afternoon. He was near the Mirpur DOHS gate amid rising tension between protesters and authorities, watching the crowds from the sidelines.

He helped the victims with only water and toothpaste (used to reduce the effects of tear gas). Suddenly, it happened. “The moment and the sound of the gunshot was even recorded on my phone. It was already too late – my left eye had been hit, it was bleeding, my vision was blurred and I rushed home,” Muhaimin recalled.

Doctors at the National Institute of Ophthalmology and Hospital initially told Muhaimin that he might have to lose his eye. They suggested she wait a few months and then replace it with a prosthetic, a glass eye that would stand as a cold reminder of what she had lost.

At first, Pulok and his family resigned themselves to this path, unsure if there was another way. But in the back of his mind, the possibility of permanently losing sight in one eye gnawed at him, chipping away at his spirit.

“It felt like the ground disappeared beneath me,” recalls Pulok. “The news was devastating, although the doctors said it very nonchalantly,” adds his father. “Only a mother can understand how terrible it was to hear of a permanent loss for her only son, who is yet to marry and start his own family,” his mother says, her voice full of emotion.

After going to a private hospital, the doctors first suggested surgery. Thus began a series of medical interventions.

Pulok’s injury was neither isolated nor the result of an unfortunate coincidence. His left eye was damaged by the instruments – pellet guns – that were deployed to manage the protests, to instill calm.

As he was recording that day, he didn’t realize how far things would go: a direct hit from a pellet lacerated the cornea of ​​his left eye and lodged in it, a cascade of medical and surgical interventions unfolding in the next few months, still giving only a sliver of vision. Today, he can dimly distinguish light and the movements of shadows, but full vision is a memory.

My injury is not an accident; it is the consequence of a weapon that has no place in crowd control.

Muhaimin Pulok

Voice against lethal weapons in crowd control

Now, three months and several surgeries later, Pulok’s fight goes beyond personal recovery. He stepped into a role of activism, fueled by the hope that he could save others from the suffering that had been inflicted on him.

Pulok is preparing to launch a support group for victims of pellet gun violence, creating a community where stories, support and resources converge to help those like him. His journey to advocacy isn’t just about healing; he wants to spur awareness and action, uniting the voices of those who have been affected in the common mission to end the use of pellet guns in crowd control.

“It’s a weapon that shouldn’t be used on people — at any time, in any place,” says Pulok, reflecting on his own experience and the research he’s undertaken since then. “There are so many of us who carry scars and it’s time to talk about it.”

his facebook page, Stop using pellet guns for crowd control, serves as a rallying point, providing facts, sharing testimonies and documenting the dangers these weapons pose. Through this platform, he hopes to educate the public and pressure authorities to rethink the use of pellet guns in crowd management.

A barrage of medical procedures

To bear the harm of such a weapon is not so easy. In the first weeks after the injury, Pulok and his family rushed from hospital to hospital in search of a medical solution. The National Institute of Ophthalmology and Hospital was full of patients and doctors juggling cases with limited time and resources.

The urgency was obvious – the pellet had to be removed and the extensive damage it had caused required not one but several surgeries. At each hospital, Pulok’s hope that his sight could be fully restored dwindled, but he continued, buoyed by the support of his family.

“They’ve been my strength through it all,” he says, his voice soft. “My father, a retired Air Force officer, was at every meeting, holding me.”

The medical toll, both physical and financial, was immense. The family incurred costs close to Tk 200,000 and another surgery to remove the silicone oil, keeping his eye stable, is expected in a few months.

But even as he fights to save his sight, the risk of sympathetic ophthalmia—a dangerous inflammation that could cost him sight in his good remaining eye—looms.

It reaches across borders

Pulok is connected to global human rights organizations such as the International Network of Civil Liberties Organizations (INCLO) and Physicians for Human Rights (PHR), whose Lethal in disguise the initiative addresses the brutal consequences of using so-called “non-lethal” weapons for crowd control.

By talking to them, he finds not only resources but validation. “What I went through is preventable and it’s unfair. There are others like me, some even worse. We need to make sure people know the risks of these weapons.”

On his Facebook page, Pulok took steps to ensure his voice reached the right audience. He posts articles, shares studies and details about how pellet guns are impacting lives globally, from Kashmir to his own home in Bangladesh.

The expansion is constant; he wants it to serve as a digital record, a call to action, and ultimately a place of support for the wounded and their families.

For Pulok, who once worked in the visual arts, the emotional and mental impact of vision loss is profound. Recently diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, he is haunted by memories of the incident, loses sleep and struggles with anxiety. “I can’t do my job the same way anymore,” he says. “There is an emptiness that comes from knowing that something you once had is gone forever.”

However, despite all that he has endured, Pulok finds himself motivated by a sense of duty. He wants to be part of a movement to create a safer future for those who dare to speak out.

Pulok envisions a world where protests are met with dialogue, not violence; where voices can be raised without the threat of permanent damage. For him, activism became a way to channel his pain, turning it into something that could prevent others from suffering the same fate.

As he prepares for his next operation, Pulok’s focus remains steady. This journey is no longer just about his own healing; it’s about change, justice and community.

His Facebook page and support group are just the first steps toward a larger fight he’s determined to fight, even if it means doing it with only a shadow of a vision.