Bangladesh

‘Can someone be beaten so brutally? It felt like my bones and flesh were merging into one’: Md Foyez


On 11 January 2020, a pleasant Saturday morning, Muhammad Foyez was preparing to embark on his university journey. Having completed his higher-secondary education at Notre Dame College, he was set to join the Department of Oceanography and Hydrography at Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman Maritime University, also known as Maritime University Bangladesh. He was scheduled to attend the orientation program the following day.

That morning, Foyez left his home in Haziganj upazila of Chandpur district for Dhaka. He bid a heartfelt farewell to his parents, unaware of the cruel fate awaiting him.

“I got off at Jatrabari and had a light snack,” Foyez recounted. “I was heading to Mirpur to stay at my cousin’s place for a few days before finding a seat in a mess. It was midday when I stepped out of the eatery. As I took a few steps, suddenly, a man wearing a panjabi approached me and asked if my name was Foyez. I said yes. He then told me I needed to go with him. I asked who he was. He replied, ‘law enforcement’.”

There were a few other people with him. Foyez asked why they did not have any uniforms or ID cards. “Where are you taking me like this?”

The man replied, “You’ll see once we get there.”

They grabbed Foyez tightly and pushed him into a nearby vehicle. 

“In no time, they cuffed my hands behind my back. They blindfolded me, then put a thick bag over my head that covered me up to my neck, and tied it. They seized my mobile phone.”

“All this happened before I could even process what was going on. I requested to make a call to my mom just to let her know I had arrived in Dhaka; otherwise, she would worry. But they didn’t allow it,” Foyez recalled.

They turned on loud music in the car, making sure Foyez could not hear any sounds from outside. “It felt like we were going in circles on the same road, like a maze.”

After about an hour, the car finally stopped. After a while, they took Foyez to an interrogation room. 

“There was a wall clock directly above my head, and the place was silent. The ticking of the clock echoed inside my head.” 

This was the beginning of Foyez’s 72-day-long detention, during which he was frequently interrogated and brutally beaten. 

“Can someone be beaten so brutally? It felt like my bones and flesh were merging into one,” he said. 

The interrogation finally ended for the day. They removed the handcuffs and gave him new clothes to wear. Two men dragged Foyez’s limp body to a cell. For the first time all day, they removed the blindfold. But he had no clue where he was.

Days in ‘Aynaghar’

It was a small, narrow room with a bed placed on one side. There was a tiny window high up near the ceiling, making it impossible to see what was happening outside. The door had a double layer: one with prison-like bars and another wooden door attached to it.

At the bottom of the door, there was a small opening where they passed food through. 

“I looked around, searching for clues, but the walls were rough and uneven, leaving no space to write anything. In one corner of the ceiling, there was a modern CCTV camera. A massive exhaust fan roared loudly. It sounded like a jet engine, drowning out everything,” Foyez recalled.

“It felt like I was buried in a grave. I was alone, with no one else around. To the outer world, I was dead, but only I knew that I was alive — barely.

“I missed home a lot. I kept thinking about the times I got upset with my mom, the times I didn’t listen to my dad, and the fights I had with my brother. I imagined my mom crying a lot,” he added.

Nearly every day, physical and mental torture continued in the name of interrogation. There was no chance to get a restful sleep at night. Foyez said his whole body was in pain. He could barely swallow the food they gave him. “I ate just to stay alive.”

Foyez could sense the presence of other people in the nearby cells, but there was no scope to talk. There was always a guard around.

After 10 to 12 days, they moved him to another room, a bit older in style with smoother walls. Scattered across the walls were numerous faintly carved writings, each in different handwriting. These were the memories of countless oppressed souls. Some were pleading to Allah for justice, others praying for freedom.

In one spot, someone had marked tallies to count the days they had spent there. Foyez did the same to count his days.

They threatened to use many different kinds of torture methods on him — waterboarding, electrocution, beatings with bamboo sticks, being hung from the ceiling and beaten, pulling out fingernails, and many more.

“I spent 42 days like this. Finally, they told me I could return to my family, but I would have to go through ‘legal procedures’ first,” Foyez said.

“No one is simply released from Aynaghar. They are either killed in crossfire or falsely charged and imprisoned to prevent them from speaking out. They [the abductors] do not file cases themselves; it’s usually done through the Rapid Action Battalion (RAB).”

Two more ‘Aynaghars’

“After 42 days, I was blindfolded and handcuffed and then put into a vehicle, and then taken to another ‘aynaghor’. I was interrogated for two days there, during which they beat me like an animal without asking any questions,” said Foyez.

The room was quite large and it was pitch-black. It was an old building with broken spots in the floor, walls, and ceiling. There was a corridor with some lights on, and on either side were a total of 10 rooms.

“The most brutal part of this second aynaghar? They kept my eyes blindfolded 24 hours a day, even inside the room. I had no chance to see any light, let alone sunlight. When there were no guards around, I would occasionally try to peek through the bottom of the blindfold.”

Foyez was handcuffed 24 hours a day. From 9pm to 3am, the rule was to cuff his hands behind his back. “I had no chance to get any sleep at night. I could only sit for a while leaning against the wall or lie face down — it was terrible.”

There was a blanket on the floor, but it was so filthy that lying on it caused his body to itch. 

One guard took pity on him, and after much pleading, he finally told Foyez that the place was RAB-1. 

“I endured this for 30 days.”

Then they took him to a new place — aynaghar three. 

“I spent one night there. It was a very small room, with a toilet inside. If I lay down properly, my feet would end up in the toilet, and there was barely enough space for stretching out both hands on either side.

“That night, they came to take my measurements for a panjabi. I couldn’t sleep at all, lost in thought.”

False charges and prison life

The next evening, they brought a colourful panjabi and a pair of trousers and told Foyez to put them on quickly.

“They blindfolded me, cuffed my hands behind my back, and put a helmet on my head. They put me into a vehicle, and I realised the presence of two other people like me.”

The abductors stopped the vehicle and got out.

“Check that car; be careful, there might be weapons inside,” somebody said.

“Sir, there are no weapons, but we found extremist books,” another responded.

The vehicle started moving again. 

“They took me to RAB 3, and for the first time, they removed the blindfold. Two other people were also brought into the cell with me. Now I realise the purpose of the drama: to frame us with false charges. They took photos of us and arranged some books and a mobile phone in front of us, claiming these items were found with us, even though we had never seen them before,” Foyez said.

“Why would these things be with me? The next day was my orientation day, my bag contained only clothes and academic documents. There should be a limit to lying!”

The summary of the case statement was that on 23 March 2020, around 8 pm, Foyez and the two others were conducting recruitment activities for a banned terrorist organisation on the eastern side of the main gate of Motijheel Model High School to strengthen its organisational activities in Dhaka and surrounding areas. While suspiciously roaming around, law enforcement chased them and managed to arrest three people, while eight to 10 others escaped. 

The statement also claimed that they were carrying some banned books in their bag. One of the books mentioned there was titled “Nirobe Hottyar Koushal” (The tactics of silent killing).

“I’ve never even heard of such a book, let alone carried it,” Foyez said.

The next day, they took him to Motijheel Police Station and filed a case under every possible section, making sure he would not be released for a year or two.

They allowed him to call home. 

“My father, mother, and brother came. I cried a lot that day, holding them in the police cell.”

Foyez was sent to Kashimpur Central Jail where he spent as long as around 770 days. He was granted bail on 30 April 2022.

“Once you endure days in aynaghar and go through such brutality, even prison feels like a much better place. At least, you are not all alone and not brutally beaten there,” Foyez said, recalling his days in jail.

After being released, Foyez resumed his university life. He is now a sophomore.

However, the case is still ongoing, and he has to appear in court every month. 

“In the past two years, not a single witness has shown up. How could they? The witnesses were fabricated by intimidating local pedestrians, rickshaw pullers, and street vendors near where the vehicle was stopped,” he said.

Why was Foyez targeted?

During interrogation, most of the questions that Foyez was asked revolved around one name —  Anik Redwan. Who he is, what he knows about him, who else is above him, and so on.

About two months before Foyez’s abduction, Anik was also abducted. Later, he was released after being “falsely” accused in a case. “Given these correlations, I suspect that my connection with him might be the reason for my abduction. They brought us in for further investigation,” Foyez speculated.

While studying at Notre Dame College, Foyez used to stay in Arambagh. 

Anik Redwan was a resident of the area, and taught Arabic at the Baitul Aman Mosque. He taught to people ranging from school and college students to retired professionals. Anik mostly taught in the mosque’s library, and sometimes on the veranda. It was all done openly, in front of everyone, and everyone knew about it. The Imam and the mosque committee were aware of it. Many committee members were even his students.

Foyez studied under Anik for a month.

“I later heard that he had some issues with the mosque committee shortly before his abduction. In the case statement against me, they even mentioned learning Arabic. However, they wrote that it was a cover for receiving terrorist training,” he added.

A source, who was also a student of Anik Redwan, told The Business Standard, “In the case in which Foyez and two others were arrested, my name was among the 15 to 20 unidentified individuals. Basically we were people who regularly met Anik bhai.”

“Foyez is a practising Muslim but has no ties to any political party or organisation. Anik bhai was once a member of Bangladesh Islami Chhatrashibir but left the group long ago,” said the source, wishing to remain anonymous.

Nafis Md M Islam, Foyez’s classmate from Notre Dame College, said, “I used to attend classes with Foyez in college. He was one of the most humble, polite, religious, and amiable boys in our class.”

“We couldn’t come to terms with the news of his disappearance. There wasn’t a place where we didn’t search for him. Each day brought a new drama from the authorities. One day they said he had gone into hiding himself. Another day, they claimed he was a victim of a robbery and murder. Another day, they said they had found his bag and a bloodstained cap. Then they claimed he was seen wandering in Narayanganj and was fine,” Nafis added.

Ultimately, police said he had run away from home and joined a certain terrorist organisation. 

“Those of us who knew Foyez never believed it for a moment. Even after he returned, he faced various forms of harassment. The boy endured everything without any guilt,” said Nafis.

Nearly 600 people have been forcibly disappeared by security forces since the now ousted prime minister Sheikh Hasina took office in 2009, reported Human Rights Watch. 

“Will we be free from these injustices in the new Bangladesh? Will I be relieved from these cases? Can they ever return the precious two and a half years of my life that they have taken away?” Foyez asked.




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