Latest news with #Uttara
Yahoo
3 days ago
- General
- Yahoo
A sound I've never heard in my life - then the jet flew over my head
"It was like 30 or 40 thunderbolts falling from the sky," said Ahnaf Bin Hasan, an 18-year-old student whose voice still trembled two days after the crash. "I've never heard a sound like that in my life - it came from the sky. In a split second, the fighter jet flew over my head and crashed into the school building." The Bangladesh Air Force F-7 plane had plummeted from the sky and slammed into the primary school building of the Milestone School and College in Dhaka on Monday, marking Bangladesh's deadliest aviation disaster in decades. At least 31 people were killed - many of them schoolchildren under 12 - while waiting to be picked up, heading to coaching classes, or grabbing a quick snack. Clad in his chocolate brown shirt and black trousers, school badge pinned neatly, Ahnaf was chatting with a friend under a canopy on the playground of the sprawling 12-acre campus of Milestone School and College, in the busy Uttara neighbourhood. He says he was barely 30 feet away when the jet nosedived into the building. Ahnaf instinctively dropped to the ground, bracing his head with his hands. When he opened his eyes, the world around him had changed. "All I could see was smoke, fire, and darkness. Children were screaming. Everything was chaos," he told the BBC on the phone. The air force said the jet, on a training flight, experienced a mechanical fault shortly after takeoff. The pilot, who ejected just before the crash, later died in hospital. "I saw the pilot eject," Ahnaf said. "After the crash, I looked up and saw his white parachute descending. He broke through the tin roof of another building. I heard he was alive after landing, even asked for water. A helicopter came and took him away." As smoke and flames spread through the school, Ahnaf's instincts kicked in. A flaming splinter from the burning plane had struck his backpack, singed his trousers and scorched his hand. "It was so hot, but I threw the bag aside and ran to help." He ran toward the concrete walkway separating the playground from the two-storey primary school building. The plane had slammed into the gate, burrowed six to seven feet into the ground, then tilted upward, crashed into the first floor, and exploded. Two classrooms named Cloud and Sky had become the ground zero of the crash. Near the entrance, Ahnaf saw a student's body, torn apart. "It looked like the plane had hit him before slamming into the building," he said. "He was younger than us." The five-building campus, usually buzzing with student chatter, had turned into a scene of fire, splintered metal, and screaming. Amid the smoke, Ahnaf spotted a junior student whose skin was scorched and whose body had been pulled out of the blaze by a friend. "His friend told me, 'I can't do this alone. Can you help me?' So I picked the boy up, put him on my shoulder, and carried him to the medical room." Another woman was on fire. Children ran from the building stripped to their underclothes, their garments burned off, their skin blistering in the intense heat. "On the second floor, students were stranded and screaming," Ahnaf said. "We broke open a grille to reach one of the gates, which was on fire. The army and fire service came in and rescued some of them." Ahnaf, like many others, quickly took on roles far beyond his age. "We helped control the crowds, kept people away from the fire. We cleared the roads for ambulances and helped fire service crews pull their pipes through the campus." At one point, he gave the shirt off his back - literally. "One student had nothing on him. I took off my uniform and gave it to him. I continued bare-bodied with the rescue." But the weight of so many young lives lost at the school is something he says will be hard to overcome. One of them was 11-year-old Wakia Firdous Nidhi. She had walked to school that morning like any other day. When the plane hit, her father was at prayer - he ran barefoot from the mosque as soon as he heard. Her uncle, Syed Billal Hossain, told me that the family spent the entire night searching more than half a dozen hospitals. "We walked across Uttara, helpless. Someone said six bodies were at one hospital. At one in the morning on Tuesday, her father identified her - by her teeth and a problem in her eye. But we still haven't been given the body." The pain of losing a child was only compounded by the bureaucratic maze. Despite identifying their daughter by a dental feature and a lens in her eye, the family was told the body wouldn't be released without DNA tests - because there were multiple claimants. First, a police report had to be filed. Then the father gave blood at the military hospital. Now they were waiting for the mother's sample to be drawn. "We know it's her," said Mr Hossain. "But they still won't hand over the body." Wakia, the youngest of three siblings, lived next door to her uncle in an old ancestral home in Diabari. "She grew up in front of our eyes - playing on rooftops, sitting under the coconut tree next to our house, always cradling her baby niece. She was just a child, and she loved children," said Mr Hossain. "I saw her just the day before," he said. "If not for that after-school coaching, she'd be alive." In the chaos and heartbreak that followed the crash, moments of narrow escape and immense courage stood out. One mother told BBC Bengali how she'd given her child money for tiffin instead of packing lunch that morning. During the break, he stepped out to buy food - and unknowingly avoided death by mere chance. "He is alive because I didn't give him tiffin," she said. Another parent's tragedy was unimaginable. He lost both his children within hours. His daughter died first. After burying her, he returned to the hospital only to wake from a brief nap and be told his young son, too, had died. And then there was Mahreen Chowdhury. The teacher, responsible for children in Classes 3 to 5, helped at least 20 students flee the inferno. Refusing to leave, she kept going back into the flames - until her body was burned over 80%. Chowdhury died a hero, saving the lives of those too young to save themselves. For staff at the school, it's like living in a nightmare. "I can't function normally anymore. Every time I look at the building, a wave of grief crashes over me. I feel lost, unwell and depressed. I've lost three children I knew - one of them was my colleague's," said Shafiqul Islam Tultul, a 43-year-old Bengali teacher. In the aftermath, questions and confusion have swirled around the scale of the tragedy. The government has reported 29 deaths and more than 100 injuries, with seven victims still unidentified. However, the military's Inter-Services Public Relations (ISPR) puts the toll at 31. According to the Health Ministry, 69 people were injured in the crash and rescue efforts - including 41 students. Social media has buzzed with speculation about a possible cover-up, claims the Bangladesh Armed Forces have firmly denied. Meanwhile, the school's head teacher Khadija Akhter told BBC Bengali that families have reported five people still missing. For the eyewitnesses and survivors, the trauma lingers. "I haven't slept for two days," Ahnaf says. "Every time I look outside, I feel like a fighter jet is coming at me. The screams are still in my ears." Fighter jets and commercial planes often fly over the campus, which lies close to Dhaka's international airport. "We're in the flight path," Ahnaf said. "We're used to seeing planes overhead - but we never imagined one would fall from the sky and strike us." Yet, the horrors of that day haunt him relentlessly. The screams, the fire, and the charred bodies of classmates and teachers refuse to fade. "When I close my eyes, it's not darkness I see - it's smoke."
BBC News
3 days ago
- General
- BBC News
Dhaka crash: 'A sound I've never heard - then the jet flew over my head'
"It was like 30 or 40 thunderbolts falling from the sky," said Ahnaf Bin Hasan, an 18-year-old student whose voice still trembled two days after the crash. "I've never heard a sound like that in my life - it came from the sky. In a split second, the fighter jet flew over my head and crashed into the school building."The Bangladesh Air Force F-7 plane had plummeted from the sky and slammed into the primary school building of the Milestone School and College in Dhaka on Monday, marking Bangladesh's deadliest aviation disaster in decades. At least 31 people were killed - many of them schoolchildren under 12 - while waiting to be picked up, heading to coaching classes, or grabbing a quick in his chocolate brown shirt and black trousers, school badge pinned neatly, Ahnaf was chatting with a friend under a canopy on the playground of the sprawling 12-acre campus of Milestone School and College, in the busy Uttara neighbourhood. He says he was barely 30 feet away when the jet nosedived into the building. Ahnaf instinctively dropped to the ground, bracing his head with his hands. When he opened his eyes, the world around him had changed."All I could see was smoke, fire, and darkness. Children were screaming. Everything was chaos," he told the BBC on the phone. The air force said the jet, on a training flight, experienced a mechanical fault shortly after takeoff. The pilot, who ejected just before the crash, later died in hospital."I saw the pilot eject," Ahnaf said. "After the crash, I looked up and saw his white parachute descending. He broke through the tin roof of another building. I heard he was alive after landing, even asked for water. A helicopter came and took him away."As smoke and flames spread through the school, Ahnaf's instincts kicked in. A flaming splinter from the burning plane had struck his backpack, singed his trousers and scorched his hand. "It was so hot, but I threw the bag aside and ran to help."He ran toward the concrete walkway separating the playground from the two-storey primary school building. The plane had slammed into the gate, burrowed six to seven feet into the ground, then tilted upward, crashed into the first floor, and exploded. Two classrooms named Cloud and Sky had become the ground zero of the crash. Near the entrance, Ahnaf saw a student's body, torn apart."It looked like the plane had hit him before slamming into the building," he said. "He was younger than us."The five-building campus, usually buzzing with student chatter, had turned into a scene of fire, splintered metal, and the smoke, Ahnaf spotted a junior student whose skin was scorched and whose body had been pulled out of the blaze by a friend."His friend told me, 'I can't do this alone. Can you help me?' So I picked the boy up, put him on my shoulder, and carried him to the medical room."Another woman was on fire. Children ran from the building stripped to their underclothes, their garments burned off, their skin blistering in the intense heat."On the second floor, students were stranded and screaming," Ahnaf said. "We broke open a grille to reach one of the gates, which was on fire. The army and fire service came in and rescued some of them."Ahnaf, like many others, quickly took on roles far beyond his age."We helped control the crowds, kept people away from the fire. We cleared the roads for ambulances and helped fire service crews pull their pipes through the campus."At one point, he gave the shirt off his back - literally."One student had nothing on him. I took off my uniform and gave it to him. I continued bare-bodied with the rescue."But the weight of so many young lives lost at the school is something he says will be hard to overcome. One of them was 11-year-old Wakia Firdous had walked to school that morning like any other day. When the plane hit, her father was at prayer - he ran barefoot from the mosque as soon as he uncle, Syed Billal Hossain, told me that the family spent the entire night searching more than half a dozen hospitals. "We walked across Uttara, helpless. Someone said six bodies were at one hospital. At one in the morning on Tuesday, her father identified her - by her teeth and a problem in her eye. But we still haven't been given the body."The pain of losing a child was only compounded by the bureaucratic maze. Despite identifying their daughter by a dental feature and a lens in her eye, the family was told the body wouldn't be released without DNA tests - because there were multiple claimants. First, a police report had to be filed. Then the father gave blood at the military hospital. Now they were waiting for the mother's sample to be drawn. "We know it's her," said Mr Hossain. "But they still won't hand over the body."Wakia, the youngest of three siblings, lived next door to her uncle in an old ancestral home in Diabari. "She grew up in front of our eyes - playing on rooftops, sitting under the coconut tree next to our house, always cradling her baby niece. She was just a child, and she loved children," said Mr Hossain."I saw her just the day before," he said. "If not for that after-school coaching, she'd be alive."In the chaos and heartbreak that followed the crash, moments of narrow escape and immense courage stood mother told BBC Bengali how she'd given her child money for tiffin instead of packing lunch that morning. During the break, he stepped out to buy food - and unknowingly avoided death by mere chance. "He is alive because I didn't give him tiffin," she parent's tragedy was unimaginable. He lost both his children within hours. His daughter died first. After burying her, he returned to the hospital only to wake from a brief nap and be told his young son, too, had died. And then there was Mahreen Chowdhury. The teacher, responsible for children in Classes 3 to 5, helped at least 20 students flee the inferno. Refusing to leave, she kept going back into the flames - until her body was burned over 80%. Chowdhury died a hero, saving the lives of those too young to save staff at the school, it's like living in a nightmare. "I can't function normally anymore. Every time I look at the building, a wave of grief crashes over me. I feel lost, unwell and depressed. I've lost three children I knew - one of them was my colleague's," said Shafiqul Islam Tultul, a 43-year-old Bengali teacher. In the aftermath, questions and confusion have swirled around the scale of the tragedy. The government has reported 29 deaths and more than 100 injuries, with seven victims still unidentified. However, the military's Inter-Services Public Relations (ISPR) puts the toll at to the Health Ministry, 69 people were injured in the crash and rescue efforts - including 41 students. Social media has buzzed with speculation about a possible cover-up, claims the Bangladesh Armed Forces have firmly denied. Meanwhile, the school's head teacher Khadija Akhter told BBC Bengali that families have reported five people still the eyewitnesses and survivors, the trauma lingers."I haven't slept for two days," Ahnaf says. "Every time I look outside, I feel like a fighter jet is coming at me. The screams are still in my ears."Fighter jets and commercial planes often fly over the campus, which lies close to Dhaka's international airport. "We're in the flight path," Ahnaf said. "We're used to seeing planes overhead - but we never imagined one would fall from the sky and strike us."Yet, the horrors of that day haunt him relentlessly. The screams, the fire, and the charred bodies of classmates and teachers refuse to fade."When I close my eyes, it's not darkness I see - it's smoke."
New York Times
5 days ago
- Health
- New York Times
Children Burned by Fighter Crash in Bangladesh Die Days Later
It was about 1 p.m. on Monday when Tahmina Akhter arrived to pick her two children up from school. Her son, age 7, emerged a few minutes later, Ms. Akhter said, but went back to fetch his 12-year-old sister. That must have been just after 1:18 p.m. Moments later, before the siblings could return, a fighter jet flipped in midair and crashed into their school building in the Uttara neighborhood of Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh. Its unspent fuel ignited like napalm. Brother and sister were both severely burned, along with dozens of other students. Within the next two days, both had died. The children were among at least 30 killed by the crash. The Bangladeshi military said in a statement on Monday that a mechanical error had caused the crash and that further investigation was underway. Most of those killed on the ground were children between 9 and 14. The severe nature of the burns they suffered left at least 55 more in hospitals. Seven were in critical condition at the National Institute of Burn and Plastic Surgery on Thursday, including four on life support. Dr. Anubhav Gupta, a plastic surgeon and burn specialist at Ganga Ram Hospital in New Delhi, said that for burn patients who survive the first two days after an accident, the next two or three days is 'our golden time.' The patients have been stabilized by then, he said, with wounds dressed and intensive hydration supplied, and infection has not yet set in. It is the moment of opportunity for transplants of skin and artificial tissues. There was no such opportunity for Ms. Akhter's children. Soon after the plane crash, Ms. Akhter was joined by her husband, Ashraful Islam, an ex-soldier. He had been less than a mile away and rushed to the school in time to see a fireball billowing out. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
The Independent
22-07-2025
- The Independent
Hero teachers killed trying to save children from Bangladesh fighter jet blast
At least three teachers died trying to get young children to safety after a fighter jet crashed into a school in Bangladesh 's capital on Monday, killing at least 31 people in one of the worst aviation disasters in the country's history. So far 25 school pupils, most of them under the age of 12, have been reported killed in the crash which saw a Bangladesh Air Force training aircraft come down on top of a school building in Dhaka 's densely populated Uttara neighbourhood. The members of the school's faculty who were killed include Mahrein Chowdhury, a 46-year-old school administrator, sustained 80 per cent burns while trying to escort students out of the Hyder Ali Hall building at the school when the F-7 BGI crashed into the school, about 12 minutes after its takeoff from a nearby military facility. Chowdhury was escorting students to meet their parents when the aircraft crashed into the gate of the building. Despite being severely burned herself, Chowdhury helped take 20 students to safety. Hours later, she succumbed to her injuries in hospital. "She didn't get out first from her building when it caught fire, instead tried to get as many students out but ended up suffering 100 per cent burns, said her brother, Munaf Mojib Chowdhury. He recalled his elder sister as a mother-like figure who had helped to raise him. Mahrein Chowdhury was buried on Tuesday in her family graveyard beside her parents. Two other teachers are known to have succumbed to their burn injuries, a senior teacher who was present in the next building at the time of the disaster, told The Independent, though the overall death toll from the crash has continued to rise throughout Tuesday. The crash took place shortly after 1pm when students were leaving exams and teachers were busy checking papers, according to the senior teacher, who asked not to be named because he was not authorised to speak on behalf of the school. He recalled hearing a loud sound – comparing it to a bomb blast – when the aircraft first crashed into a school building. "The school is near an air force base, so we are used to the noise of fighter aircraft, but this was extraordinarily loud. At first glance, I couldn't spot anything, but seconds later, a thick stream of smoke started coming out of the building," he recalled. The senior teacher saw dozens of injured students – mostly those with minor injuries – running toward the school's medical room on the lower floor, while many other pupils were trapped under debris on the second floor. Army personnel stationed nearby rushed to the school as the fire from the blast intensified and spread rapidly about 15 minutes after the crash, leading to more fatalities. Ambulances and a helicopter arrived at the scene shortly after. "As the fire spread, we were asked to move toward the playing field. Everyone was evacuated to the grounds to make space for the ambulance and the helicopter to take the pupils to the nearest hospitals," the senior teacher said. "Everyone who could help, including teachers, staff and pupils, jumped in to the rescue without thinking twice." Doctors said late on Monday that about two dozen people remained in a critical condition, out of a total 165 injured. A blood donation camp has been opened at a specialised burns hospital where most of the injured were being treated. Twenty bodies have been handed over to their families, with some needing DNA matching after they were charred beyond recognition. Many relatives waited overnight at the burns hospital while identification processes were carried out. Nasima Begum was among the mothers whose children were admitted to the hospital after suffering severe burns in the crash. Her son, who studies in grade seven, was playing when the crash happened, Ms Begum told The Independent. "He's completely burned," she said. "It has been more than 24 hours, his state is critical. The doctors are not saying anything positive. This is the second hospital we have had to take him," she said, as she prayed to Allah to save her son. Rubina Akter said her son Raiyan Toufiq had a miraculous escape after his shirt caught fire when he was on a staircase. "He sprinted to the ground floor and jumped on the grass to douse it," she told Reuters. "He tore his shirt and vest inside which saved him from severe burns." Another student who had already left the classroom after finishing his exam told BBC Bangla: "My best friend, the one I was in the exam hall with, he died right in front of my eyes." Rescue workers continued to scour the charred buildings for debris on Tuesday as distressed residents of the area looked on. Abul Hossain mourned his nine-year-old daughter after saying his final goodbye on Monday night. "I took her to school yesterday morning like every day. I had no idea it would be the last time I would be seeing her," he said. The pilot, Flight Lt Mohammed Toukir Islam, who died in the crash, made "every effort to divert the aircraft away from densely populated areas toward a more sparsely inhabited location," the military said. The Chinese-made F-7 BGI training aircraft experienced a "technical malfunction" moments after takeoff from the AK Khandaker air force base at 1.06 pm local time on Monday, the military added. It was the pilot's first solo flight as he was completing his training course. It remained unclear if he managed to eject before the jet hit the building. The Bangladesh air force said it has launched a formal investigation. The government declared Tuesday was a day of mourning, with flags at half-mast and special prayers at all places of worship as hundreds of students protested near the site of the crash. The Milestone school is located about 11km from the air force base in a densely populated area near a metro station and numerous shops and homes. The protesting students transparency over the numbers and identities of the dead and injured, compensation for their families, and an immediate halt to the use of "outdated and unsafe" training aircraft by the Bangladesh Air Force. They chanted slogans and accused security officials of beating them and manhandling teachers. The students angrily confronted two senior government advisers who arrived to visit the scene, forcing them to take cover for six hours inside the school campus before additional security forces arrived and escorted them out. Scores of students suffered injuries after police charged them with batons after they broke through security barricades and entered the Bangladesh Secretariat complex, elsewhere across the capital. Security fired tear gas and used stun grenades to disperse the crowd. Monday's plane crash was the deadliest aviation incident in the Bangladeshi capital in decades. In 2008, another F-7 training jet crashed outside Dhaka, killing its pilot, who had ejected after he discovered a technical problem. Bangladesh's F-7 is a modern variant of China's Chengdu F-7, itself modelled on the Soviet MiG-21. While considered outdated by global standards, it remains in service due to its cost-effectiveness and suitability for pilot training and limited combat roles. Its production ceased after China delivered the last of 16 units of F-7 BGIs to Bangladesh in 2013. The incident comes as neighbour India is still grappling with the world's worst aviation disaster in a decade after an Air India plane crashed into a medical college hostel in Ahmedabad city in Gujarat last month, killing 241 of the 242 people on board and 19 on the ground.
Globe and Mail
22-07-2025
- Politics
- Globe and Mail
Students protest in Bangladesh after air force training jet crash kills 31
Hundreds of students protested near the site of the crash of a Bangladesh air force training jet into a school in the nation's capital, demanding accountability, compensation for victims' families and the halt of training flights. The death toll from the crash rose to 31 on Tuesday, including at least 25 students, a teacher who died from burn injuries she sustained while helping others get out of the burning building, and the pilot of the training aircraft. Firefighters further secured the site in Dhaka's densely populated Uttara neighbourhood while the military launched an investigation. The country's civil aviation authority was not involved in the investigation directly. Bangladesh declared Tuesday a day of national mourning, with the flags flying at half-staff across the country. Monday's crash at the Milestone School and College caused a fire that gutted the two-story school building. Officials said 171 people, mostly students and many with burns, were rescued and carried away in helicopters, ambulances, motorized rickshaws and in the arms of firefighters and parents. The protesting students demanded 'accurate' publication of identities of the dead and injured, compensation for their families, and an immediate halt to the use of 'outdated and unsafe' training aircraft by the Bangladesh air force. They chanted slogans and accused security officials of beating them and manhandling teachers on Monday. The students became furious after two senior government advisers arrived at the scene, forcing them to take cover for six hours inside the school campus before additional security forces arrived and escorted them out. Elsewhere in Dhaka, scores of students were injured after police charged them with batons. The students earlier broke through security barricades and entered the Bangladesh Secretariat complex, the country's administrative headquarters, and security officials used stun grenades and tear gas to disperse them. They demanded the resignation of the education adviser who, they said, delayed announcing that public exams were being cancelled during Tuesday's mourning. 'Yesterday, when the plane was approaching, the sound was so loud you can't even imagine – it felt like eardrums were about to burst. Within five seconds, the plane crashed right in front of me here,' Smriti, a student who only gave one name, said outside her school. 'Suddenly, I saw flames rising fiercely upward from the building,' the 11th grader said. 'When I got here, I saw some children lying with their limbs spread out, some of their lifeless bodies scattered around. Can you save them? Tell me, will they ever be able to return to their parents' arms again,' she asked. On Tuesday, 78 people, mostly students, remained hospitalized, said Sayeedur Rahman, a special assistant to Bangladesh's interim leader Muhammad Yunus. Twenty deaths were reported initially, and seven died of their injuries overnight, authorities said. Another four deaths were reported later Monday, the military said. Maherin Chowdhury, a teacher who rescued more than 20 students from the burning school, died from severe burn injuries, her colleague Tanzina Tanu said. Doctors said late Monday that the condition of about two dozen injured remained critical. A blood donation camp has been opened at a specialized burn hospital where most of the injured were being treated. Twenty bodies have been handed over to their families, with some of them possibly needing DNA matching after they were charred beyond recognition. Many relatives waited overnight at a specialized burn hospital for the bodies of their loved ones. The Chinese-made F-7 BGI training aircraft experienced a 'technical malfunction' moments after takeoff from the A.K. Khandaker air force base at 1:06 p.m. Monday, according to a statement from the military. The pilot, Flight Lt. Mohammed Toukir Islam, made 'every effort to divert the aircraft away from densely populated areas toward a more sparsely inhabited location,' the military said, adding that it would investigate the cause of the crash. The Milestone school, about an 11-kilometre (7-mile) drive from the air force base, is in a densely populated area near a metro station and numerous shops and homes. It was the pilot's first solo flight as he was completing his training course. It remained unclear if he managed to eject before the jet hit the building. The first funeral prayers were held for the pilot in Dhaka on Tuesday morning and second prayers will be held in southwestern Rajshahi district where his parents live. It is the deadliest plane crash in the Bangladeshi capital in recent memory. In 2008, another F-7 training jet crashed outside Dhaka, killing its pilot, who had ejected after he discovered a technical problem.
