When the bullet struck Shihab Kabir Nahid (30), he wasn’t throwing stones. He wasn’t charging at anyone. He was standing at his doorstep.
“They blew my son’s skull open,” his mother, Amena Khatun, sobbed. “The bullet pierced his head, and his brain spilled out. We rushed him to the hospital, but the doctors could do nothing. My son was already dead.”
Shihab was the son of Nasir Uddin, a former superintendent at Cox’s Bazar PTI, and Amena Khatun, a retired headteacher of Cox’s Bazar Government High School.
The family lived in Samiti Para, one of the neighborhoods under threat of eviction due to the Bangladesh Air Force’s (BAF) relentless expansion of its base in Cox’s Bazar.
For years, residents of Samiti Para and Kutubdia Para—along with 17 other localities—have lived in fear. Their homes, built on government land after the catastrophic 1991 cyclone, stand in the way of the air force’s expansion.
Despite repeated pleas to authorities, they were never given land ownership rights or alternative housing.
In recent months, the eviction drive intensified. Families grew desperate, filing appeals with the district administration, but their voices were buried under bureaucratic silence. Meanwhile, air force personnel resorted to threats.
“They would come at night, warning us to leave or face the consequences,” said Zahid, a local youth leader.
On the morning of the incident, Zahid and several young men set out to submit a memorandum to the district commissioner, pleading for reconsideration. But they never made it.
Air force personnel intercepted them mid-route. Zahid was dragged to the base, tied up, and brutally beaten. “They told me, ‘We can make people like you disappear, and no one will dare say a word,’” he later recounted.
News of Zahid’s abduction spread like wildfire. Enraged, residents gathered in front of the air force base, demanding his release. What started as heated exchanges quickly escalated. A scuffle broke out. Then, the gunfire began.
Amateur footage from social media shows armed air force personnel firing live rounds at unarmed protesters. The crowd, wielding nothing but sticks and bricks, scrambled for cover.
Shihab Kabir Nahid was among them—except he wasn’t even in the crowd. His only crime was stepping outside his house when the chaos unfolded. A bullet found him anyway.
“After they killed my son, they called us terrorists,” his mother cried.
Hours later, the Inter-Services Public Relations (ISPR) released a statement. It claimed that “a group of miscreants launched an unprovoked attack” on the air force base, forcing personnel to take “necessary action.”
The statement, signed by Assistant Director Ayesha Siddika, was met with outrage from locals.
“They are the miscreants,” shouted an elderly resident. “They steal our land, kill our children, and then call us criminals.”
Cox’s Bazar’s 1st Ward—home to nearly 70,000 people—is at the heart of this conflict. Most residents are climate refugees, displaced by the 1991 cyclone. Now, the air force wants the land they rebuilt their lives on.
In response to the displacement crisis, the government launched a resettlement project in Khurushkul, 3 km away, promising housing in 137 five-story buildings.
So far, only 600 families have been relocated, with over 65,000 still left in limbo.
On January 7, thousands of residents blocked the main highway, demanding an end to evictions. Their voices went unheard.
Now, a young man lies dead, and an entire community trembles in fear.
The roots of this conflict stretch back to December 27, 2010, when the ousted Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina first announced plans for an air force base in Cox’s Bazar to “protect the country’s maritime borders.”
The base was inaugurated on April 3, 2011.
“They welcomed two million Rohingya refugees, yet the people of Cox’s Bazar, besieged by climate calamity and the encroachment of military forces, find their own land slipping away. A nation that once embraced now exiles its own citizens”, said Nurul Islam, a local resident.
Source : The Chittagong Hills Tracts
