Dhaka crash: ‘A sound I never heard

“It was like 30 or 40 Thunderbolts from the sky,” Ahnap bin Hasan’s 18 -year -old students were shaking two days after crashing.

“I have never heard of this voice in my life – it came from the sky. In another partition, the soldier jet flies from my head and collapsed in a school building.”

The Bangladesh Air Force F -7 plane landed from the sky and on Monday, the Milestone School in Dhaka and the college primary school building showed the most deadly aircraft transport disaster in Bangladesh.

At least people were killed – children under the age of 6 – while waiting for lifting, going to the coaching class or catching quick breakfast.

Operated in his chocolate brown shirt and black trousers, the school badge was neatly pinned, AHNAF was chatting with a friend under the roof on a 12 -acre campus playground in the neighboring Milestone School and college. He says that when the jet entered the building, he was only 30 feet away.

AHNAF fell down to the ground and fell on the head with his hands. When he opened his eyes, the world around him had changed.

“Whatever I saw is smoke, fire and darkness. The kids were screaming. Everything was chaos,” he told the BBC over the phone.

The Air Force said that the jet, in the training flight, experienced mechanical flaws soon after Techoff. The pilot, who was left out before the accident, later died in the hospital.

“I saw the pilot execution,” Ahnap said. “After crashing, I looked up and saw his white parachute down. He broke it from the roof of the tin of another building. I heard that he was alive after landing, asked for water. A helicopter came and took him.”

While smoke and flame were spreading in the school, Ahnif’s heart was kicked. A burning splinter on the burning plane hit his backpack, his trousers and his hand burned. “It was very hot, but I threw the bag aside and ran for help.”

The playground ran towards the concrete walkway separating from the two -storey primary school building. The plane had entered the gate, six to seven feet in the ground, then tilted on the top, collapsed in the first floor and burst. The ground of the two classroom crash, called Cloud and Sky, had become zero.

Near the entrance, Ahanf saw the body of a student being torn.

He said, “Before entering the building, he looked like a plane was beaten,” he said. “He was younger than us.”

The five-building campus, usually with the students, was changed to the scene of fire, splinted metal and screaming.

During the smoke, Ahanf discovered a junior student whose skin was irritated, and whose body was pulled out by a friend.

“His friend told me, ‘I can’t do this alone. Can you help me?’ So I picked up the boy, put it on my shoulders and took him to the medical room. “

The other woman was on fire. The children escaped from the building and went to their clothes, their clothes were burnt, their skin was broken into severe heat.

“On the second floor, the students were getting stuck,” Ahanif said. “We opened an iron mesh to reach a gate of a door that was on fire. Army and fire service came and some of them rescued.”

AHNAF took the role beyond his age, just like many.

“We helped control the crowds, kept people away from the fire. We cleaned the roads for ambulances and fireworks staff. Helped them to pull their pipes from campus.”

At one moment, he gave the shirt on his back – literally.

“A student had nothing to do with him. I took my uniform and gave it to him. I kept the bare body with a rescue.”

But the weight of many youths lost in school is such that he says that it will be difficult to overcome.

One of them was the 11 -year -old Wakki Firedoss Fund.

She had gone to school that morning, like the other day. When the plane was hit, her father was in prayer – as soon as he heard, he was barefoot from the mosque.

Her uncle, Syed Bill Hussein told me that the family spent the whole night to find more than half a dozen hospitals.

“We across the northern, helpless. Someone said. Six bodies were in a hospital. Her father recognized her at a time on Tuesday morning – a problem with his teeth and her eyes. But we still have not been given a body.”

The pain of losing the child was only enhanced by the bureaucracy cycle.

Despite the dental feature and the lens in her eyes, the family was told that the body would not be released without DNA tests – because there were many contenders.

First, the police report had to be filed. Then the father gave blood to the military hospital. Now they were waiting for the mother’s pattern. “We know that she is her,” said Mr. Hussein. “But they will still not take possession of the body.”

The youngest of the three siblings, the older ancestral home in Vaka Diabetry, lived next to her uncle. “She grew up in front of our eyes – playing on the roofs, sitting under the coconut tree in our house, always her baby’s niece. She was just young and she loves the children,” Shri Hussein said.

“I saw her the next day,” he said. “If not for the post -school coaching, she will be alive.”

In the chaos and heart attacks after the accident, the moments of narrow departure and immense courage stood.

A mother told BBC Bengali how she paid her son for Tiffin instead of packing lunch that morning. During the break, he went out to buy food – and unknowingly only avoided death. “He is alive because I did not give him tiffin,” she said.

The tragedy of the other parents was unknown. Within a few hours he lost both of his children. His daughter first died. After burially buried her, he just just a little bit a little bit a little bit a little bit a little bit a little bit a little bit a little bit a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a little bit of a slight slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly brief little bit of a little bit of a little bit Slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly slightly little bit

And then there was Mahin Chowdhury?? The teacher responsible for the children in Class 3 to 5 helped at least 20 times the infuro escape.

By refusing to release, she continued to go back to the flames – until her body burns more than 80%. Chaudhary’s death died, he saved the lives of young people to save himself.

This is worth living in a dream for school employees.

“I can no longer work normally. Every time I look at the building every time I look at the building. I feel lost, uncomfortable and depressed. Three boys I know have lost me-one of them was my colleague,” Shafiqul Islam Charlam, 43-year-old Bengali teacher said.

After that, the question and confusion has revolved around the tragedy.

The government has informed that more than 3 deads were killed and more than 3 injured and seven victims are still unknown. However, the inter-service public relations (ISPR) of the army keep the toll at 31am.

According to the Ministry of Health, 69 people were injured in crash and rescue efforts with 41 students.

Social media claims that Bangladesh armed forces have rejected firmly. Meanwhile, the chief teacher of the school said Khadija Architer said BBC Bengali Those families have still reportedly missing five people.

For eyewitnesses and readers, the trauma creeps.

“I didn’t sleep for two days,” says Ahnap. “Every time I look out, I think a soldier jet is coming to me. The scream is still in my ear.”

Fighter jets and commercial planes often fly from campus near Dhaka’s international airport. “We are in the flight path,” Ahnap said.

“We have a habit of watching aircraft overhead – but we never imagined that someone from the sky would fall on us.”

Nevertheless, the fear of that day was constantly hurt him. Srying, fire and classmates and the burning of the teacher refuse to fade.

“When I close my eyes, it’s not dark – it’s smoke.”