The building burned to ashes before my eyes

18 December 2025. After finishing the day’s office work, I returned home at night. About an hour later, my department head Zahidul Karim called me. It was around 11:30 pm then. Calling from Shahbag, he said, “Some people have gathered in front of our office and are chanting slogans. Go quickly.”

Without a moment’s delay, I rushed downstairs to the office. I saw several police members standing at the main gate of the Pragati Insurance building. After parking my motorcycle in a safe place, I went in front of our main building and found 50 to 60 people chanting slogans. At one point, they took position on the road in front of the CA building on Kazi Nazrul Islam Avenue and blocked traffic.

I started taking their photographs. From what the protesters were saying, I understood another procession was coming from Shahbag towards the Prothom Alo office.

I was panicking inside, because I was the only photojournalist there. That night, taking photos with flash was extremely risky. I tried to stay calm. After taking a few pictures, I waited for the procession coming from Shahbagh.

At 11:55 pm, a procession of several hundred people arrived and stopped beneath the Karwan Bazar metro station. As those already standing there shouted, “Prothom Alo is over here, Prothom Alo over here,” everyone jumped over the island railing and rushed towards the Prothom Alo building.

They then launched a coordinated attack on the building. Panic spread across the area. The officer-in-charge of Tejgaon police station and five to six police members were present at the scene. The OC tried alone to stop the mob but failed.

The attackers repeatedly kicked the shutters of the building, jumping as they did so. Many began hurling bricks and stones. Standing on a vegetable truck parked nearby, I continued taking photographs.

When breaking the shutters took too long, they began throwing brickbats at the second and third floors, shattering the glass. After repeated attempts, they somehow forced the shutters slightly open and entered the building in groups. Once inside, they started vandalising and looting. From the second and third floors they threw chairs, sofas, tables, books and documents downstairs and set them on fire.

The fire quickly spread across the entire street. Meanwhile, several attackers told me to leave the area. I moved a little away from them and resumed taking photos from the opposite side. As more furniture and books were thrown down from the building into the flames below, the blaze kept intensifying.

When I tried to take photos as looted televisions, monitors, CPUs and laptops were being carried out of the building, one attacker confronted me with an axe in his hand. I took his photograph with the axe and quickly moved away. A few others displayed books taken from the Prothoma outlet and told the crowd, “…these are what they sell here.”

After 12:30 am, a section of the attackers marched towards The Daily Star. I followed them. By then, several photojournalists from different newspapers had arrived. For safety, I asked one of them to keep my office identity card hidden. A colleague from another newspaper handed me his ID and said, “Keep this. Show it if you face trouble.”

As we moved towards The Daily Star with the attackers, we saw army members standing still on the road. They were doing nothing. The attackers marched past them, chanting slogans, and proceeded towards The Daily Star.

As I was taking photos of the army, one of the attackers approached and asked for my identity. Feeling slightly afraid, I showed him the ID card given by a colleague from another office. He asked, “Do you work at Ittefaq?” I replied yes.

After returning the card, I quickly moved to the front of The Daily Star. There, I saw looting and vandalism continuing. A group had set fire to The Daily Star building, and the flames quickly spread inside. I kept taking photographs of everything. After about 40 minutes of shooting, I requested the army to stop the brutality, but they stood silently.

While returning from The Daily Star towards Prothom Alo, I called the fire service, urging them to send a team immediately. The fire service said they would only come if the police instructed them to do so.

I returned to the front of Prothom Alo. By then, the attackers had set fire to the building and were demonstrating outside. I kept photographing from all angles. Watching my workplace burn was agonising, and all I could do was take pictures.

While shooting, I thought of the police and urged them to call the fire service immediately. After repeated insistence, I saw the police finally make the call. As I stood in front of the office, the army arrived. They used a loudspeaker to order everyone to move back, but the attackers refused to comply. Beyond that, I saw no further action from either the police or the army.

When most of the Prothom Alo building was engulfed in flames, the fire engine sirens were finally heard. The attackers attacked the fire engine and its crew, forcing it to turn back.

After waiting for a while, I told the army personnel standing there, “Everyone needs to be moved back first. Only then can the fire engine come in, siren and lights off, and set up a cordon.”

The army officer replied, “Please wait a little.”

After a short while, the army cleared the jubilant attackers in front of the burning Prothom Alo building and brought in the fire engine. Finally, at 2:30 am, the operation to extinguish the fire at my office began. I stayed in front of the building, taking photos of the fire service at work.

By 4:00 am, the fire was still not fully under control. At that moment, I realised that as a journalist I have covered many fire incidents and seen people helplessly standing by—but today, when my own institution was being reduced to ashes, I too was standing there, powerless like everyone else.

A flood of questions ran through my mind: would the building ever return to its previous bustling state? Could the looted property be recovered? Colleagues often decorate their desks with photos of family, children, or awards and trophies they received—those memories were also being consumed by the flames. How long would it take to rebuild the office? With these thoughts, I returned home.

At home, sleep eluded me. Before sunrise, I rushed back to the office. Smoke was still rising from the charred building, and the heat from the fire lingered in front of the premises.