A night of desperation, survival and heartbreak

Almost the whole stretch of Bailey Road was pulsating with life on the night of 29th Feb. It was a Thursday night when some were out with families to welcome the weekend after a busy week and some with friends to celebrate the Leap Year. The long road from Viqarunnisa Noon School & College to Shantinagar Mor was abuzz with people, strolling; restaurants had tempting offers but soon, what was to be an usual Thursday turned into a nightmare.

Below are the first person accounts of our reporters recounting their experiences of being witness to the harrowing night:

Zia Chowdhury

I reached Bailey Road around 10:06pm, soon after I received news of the fire outbreak. Passing the Officers Club intersection, I saw a surge of people rushing towards the fire-hit building, desperately hoping to find their loved ones.

When I reached near the building at around 10:16pm, I saw some restaurant workers lying on the pavement, senseless as locals were desperately trying to revive them. In the commotion, I saw Suraiya, a waitress from Khana's – a restaurant on the third floor of the building – who was barely able to speak as security guards gave her water. As soon as she regained a bit of strength, she rushed towards the building, breathlessly saying "Uncle, please save my uncle!", before she fainted again.

As she pleaded for her uncle's safety, the unfolding horror became painfully apparent to me.

Suraiya was among the lucky ones who was able to jump off the building to a neighbouring roof and survived.

The streets echoed with prayers as families repeatedly tried calling their missing members, the anxiety escalating with every unanswered call. "God knows if he/she is still alive?", "Please at least receive the call," were the cries from families.

I remember seeing Sohel, the manager of FUOCO restaurant, desperately pleading with one of his colleagues Bipul, who was stuck at the rooftop. "Please don't jump, fire fighters are on their way."

As emotions escalated at the scene, I saw survivors turning hostile towards journalists questioning the need for documenting their anguish. "What will you do with these videos? Why are you recording us? Record the people who are behind these deaths," an angry mob shouting while driving away journalists. 

I witnessed a similar scenario at the Dhaka Medical College and Hospital morgue as families were not willing to talk to journalists, rather expressing their anguish through anger. When I reached the morgue in the wee hours, I saw piles of corpses on the ground. Families were frantically searching and trying to identify their loved ones.

Jahir Rayhan

It was 11pm when I reached Bailey Road. I saw fire service personnel rushing and watering different floors of the building.

There was no electricity in the neighbouring areas.

I tried to talk to one of the relatives who was crying near the building. Her name was Rakhi Begum and in a tearful voice she said, "My niece is on the roof. His name is Bikas, I spoke to him and he says that he is suffocating due to smoke. He works at Pizza Inn."

Forty minutes have passed since I arrived, and the firefighters brought down another person named Sant Das. 

Around 1am, some more people were brought down. Among them was Mohammad Himel. After coming down, he was short of breath. 

When I said I am a journalist, talk to me, where are your relatives? Himel said, "Brother, you are a journalist, take me to the hospital, I am suffocating." He then put his hand on my shoulder and asked for water. Later a person standing next to him gave him water.

I kept looking for any members of the Red Crescent but could not find them. At that time, a relative called his phone and I spoke to the caller asking him to come in front of Viqarunnisa Noon School & College. Later, I slowly walked Himel to his parents in front of the school.

I came back again in front of the building and saw a girl named Riya being rescued by fire service personnel. At the time, Riya's mother, who was under the building, was crying and saying that he has found her daughter. Riya's relatives later took her to Monowara Hospital.

One by one, fire service personnel were rescuing people trapped inside. Mohammad Rashed, a rescue worker of the fire service, was seen exiting the back of the building with 5 other workers around 1 am. Meanwhile, they came out with air jumping bags. When I inquired he said, there are no more people on the roof, our work is done.

At 6am when I left the front of the building, I saw relatives were still there, waiting for some news. There were also people who were waiting to get inside to see the remains of what was left behind by the fire. 

Sakhawat Prince

It was 2:30am, our chief reporter called and asked me to reach Dhaka Medical College and Hospital immediately. As I entered the hospital after 20 minutes, I saw a massive gathering in front of the emergency department. Sounds of crying were coming from everywhere.

Amid all these, I saw several angry relatives pointing fingers at journalists, threatening to harm them if they don't stop taking pictures. However, before I could understand the full extent of the matter, my eyes fell on a man screaming and crying at the top of his voice. 

The man's name was Ashiq Ahmed. His relatives were trying to convince him that though his younger son has died, his wife Nazia and six-year-old son will receive treatment here at the hospital but he kept on saying that they won't receive treatment.

Ashiq's wife Nazia and his two children aged four and six went to Kacchi Bhai restaurant to eat. All three of them died on the spot in the fire.

Right beside them, Nazia's brother Munir shouted "Mama (referring to the young child), how did you leave me?" He was crying and saying that I loved them more than their parents.

Not knowing that he has lost his whole family, Ashiq Ahmed hugged one of his friends and said "Manage an airbus through Summit Group, I will take my son and wife out. If they don't survive, I can't survive."

Suddenly, although I was not taking any pictures or videos with my mobile phone, a girl came to me and tried to hit me in the face. I told her that I did not take pictures, still she hit me on the face without listening. I was shocked and soon a relative of hers came and apologized to me. He said, "Brother, she lost three family members today." 

I understood and continued my work, hoping she would understand her mistake later.

It was around 5am, I saw some nurses and officials of DMCH looking at the NID of the dead from their relatives before handing over the bodies. Suddenly, in an alley next to the emergency department at DMCH, I heard some relatives screaming and crying.

A man named Abdul Quddus was being dragged by some people. As I went closer, I saw him hug one of his relatives and said that his daughter Mayata had phoned him "Baba, save me, I am stuck" after which her mobile phone could not be reached anymore. 

I came across another father, who said "At the time of death, my Neemu was saying, Baba, save me, save me" but I couldn't.

Neemu is an intermediate student at Rajdhani City College. He came to eat at this restaurant with his cousins Alisha and Riya around 9pm. I heard the relatives say that three other girls from a neighbouring house also came here with them, and a total of six died.

Eight months ago, I had a baby boy, I became a father at the age of 28. In these few days, I now know the love of a father towards his children. After hearing about Neemu, it slowly dawned on me what her father might be feeling after losing a loved child.

Joynal Abedin Shishir

Reaching Dhaka Medical College and Hospital in the morning the next day, I felt the air around the Burn Unit of the hospital heavy with the cries of relatives of the dead and injured. 

Relatives from Dhaka and its surrounding districts started arriving since early morning. Around 8am, I saw several relatives taking away bodies soon after identifying them. Some more came around 11am to take away their loved ones. 

Around noon, I heard the news that a journalist has been identified among the dead. It was Abhishruti Shastri, a multimedia journalist for the election beat at The Report.com Online. The body was identified by Golam Rabbani, her colleague. Many of the journalists present at the hospital were left shocked by the news, many of Abhishruti's colleagues who knew her were seen breaking down in tears.

As I stood there at the hospital grounds, thinking about the departed souls and how a night can change one's life, I saw four bodies lay lifeless with no one beside them yet.