The price of vision: Muhaymin’s fight with shotguns

Hit by a bullet in the chaos of protests, Muhaimin Pulok fights to protect others from the same life-altering harm.

The sounds of gunfire can be heard in Muhaimin Pulok’s video. The crowd scatters, screams echo, and then everything changes. As Pulok captured the July riots unfolding on the streets of Dhaka, a single bullet from a police shotgun tore through the air and damaged his left eye. That moment of pain and darkness has since evolved into a deeply personal campaign to eliminate guns from the crowd control arsenal.

Pulock never thought that he would be given this role. An artist and curator with a keen eye for detail, he collected and studied various works of art. But since that July day, his focus has shifted from aesthetics to activism. His Facebook page, Stop using spray guns for crowd controlbecame the platform for his call to ban indiscriminate weapons that now threaten the vision he once took for granted.

It was one of the most tumultuous weeks of 2024. Pulock didn’t expect his day to turn out the way it did that chaotic afternoon. He stood outside the Mirpur Health Department gate, amid rising tensions between protesters and authorities, watching the crowd from the sidelines.

He only helped victims with water and toothpaste (used to reduce the effects of tear gas). It happened suddenly. “The moment and sound of the shot were even recorded on the phone. It was already too late – my left eye was wounded, blood began to flow, my vision became blurred, and I rushed home,” Mukhaimin recalled.

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

At first, Pulock and his family were resigned to this path, not knowing if there was another way. But deep down, he was tormented by the possibility of permanently losing sight in one eye, destroying his spirit.

“I felt like the ground beneath me had disappeared,” Pulock recalls. “The news was devastating, although the doctors spoke about it very nonchalantly,” adds his father. “Only a mother can understand how terrible it was to hear about the permanent loss of her only son, who had not yet married or started a family of his own,” his mother says, her voice heavy with emotion.

After contacting a private hospital, doctors initially suggested surgery. Thus began a series of medical interventions.

Pulock’s injury was not isolated or the result of some unfortunate coincidence. His left eye was damaged by the very tools—machine guns—that were used to quell protests and establish calm.

As he stood and took notes that day, he didn’t realize how far things would go: a direct hit from a bullet tore the cornea of ​​his left eye and lodged itself inside it, and a cascade of medical interventions and surgeries unfolded over the next few months. but giving only a piece of vision. Today he can dimly discern light and the movements of shadows, but full vision is a memory.

My injury is not an accident; these are the consequences of using weapons that have no place in crowd control.

Muhaimin Pulok

A Voice Against Lethal Weapons in Crowd Control

Now, three months and several surgeries later, Pulock’s struggle extends beyond personal recovery. He took on the role of activist, fueled by the hope that he could save others from the suffering he had caused.

Pulock is preparing to launch a support group for victims of gun violence, creating a community where stories, support and resources come together to help people like him. His journey to advocacy is not just about healing; he wants to stimulate awareness and action by uniting the voices of those impacted with a common mission to end the use of guns for crowd control.

“This is a weapon that should not be used against people—any time, any place,” Pulock says, reflecting on his own experience and the research he has since conducted. “There are so many of us who have scars, and it’s time to speak up.”

His Facebook page, Stop using spray guns for crowd control serves as a rallying point by providing facts, exchanging testimony, and documenting the dangers these weapons pose. Through this platform, he hopes to educate the public and pressure authorities to rethink the use of firearms in crowd control.

A flurry of medical procedures

It is not so easy to endure harm from such weapons. In the first weeks after the injury, Pulock and his family rushed from hospital to hospital searching for a medical solution. The National Eye Institute and hospital were teeming with patients and doctors juggling cases with limited time and resources.

The urgency was clear: the bullet had to be removed, and the extensive damage it had caused would require not one, but several surgeries. At each hospital, Pulock’s hope for full restoration of his vision diminished, but he continued, encouraged by his family’s support.

“They have been my strength through all of this,” he says, his voice softening. “My father, a retired Air Force officer, was present at every meeting and haunted me.”

The medical toll, both physical and financial, was enormous. The family has incurred expenses close to THK 200,000 and will have another surgery in a few months to remove silicone oil to keep his eye stable.

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

Going beyond boundaries

Pulock maintains contacts with 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 aims to combat the violent consequences of the use of so-called “non-lethal” crowd control weapons.

By talking with them, he finds not only resources, but also confirmation. “What I went through was preventable and it’s not fair. There are others like me, some even worse off. We need to make sure people are aware of the risks associated with these weapons.”

On his Facebook page, Pulock has taken steps to ensure his voice reaches the right audience. He publishes articles, shares research and details about how air guns affect lives around the world, from Kashmir to his own home in Bangladesh.

Coverage 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 Pulock, who once worked in the fine 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, losing sleep and struggling with anxiety. “I can’t do my job the same way anymore,” he shares. “There is an emptiness that comes from knowing that what you once had is gone forever.”

However, despite everything he has been through, Pulok is driven by a sense of duty. He wants to be part of the movement to create a safer future for those who dare to speak out.

Pulock envisions a world where protests are met with dialogue rather than violence; where voices can be raised without the threat of irreversible damage. For him, activism became a way to channel his pain, turning it into something that could save others from the same fate.

As Pulock prepares for his next operation, his focus remains constant. 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 begin, even if it means doing so with only a shadow of a vision.