Knife-wielding Mugger Tries to Mug Dominican Soldier, is Gunned Down in Broad Daylight

A trio of criminals in the Dominican capital of Santo Domingo attempted to mug a Dominican soldier using a knife, in what resulted in a bloodbath in broad daylight. The incident took place on Duarte Avenue, one of the city's poorer areas, which has in recent years become the scene of frequent muggings. The residents of the area are traumatized to the extent that they're often afraid to use their cell phones in public. 

Two of the muggers managed to escape the scene of the crime after the would-be victim shot one in the chest. Most muggers in the Dominican Republic use motorcycles and carry firearms, indicating that this trio was relatively new to the game. 

Had the muggers succeeded in disarming the would-be victim, it is likely that they would have taken his firearm and thereafter used it to carry out more elaborate crimes. Dominican soldiers and police officers are regularly gunned down in the country, with criminals targeting them to make away with their weapons. Black market guns in the Dominican Republic usually can be sold for 500 to a 1000 US dollars.

The would-be assailant seen bleeding out in the video was wearing flip-flops, indicating that this was likely a crime of desperation. A good Samaritan tried loading him onto the back of a motorcycle to take him to a hospital, but the victim was too far gone and succumbed to his wounds. 

11-Year-Old Boy Killed for "Absolutely No Reason" After Lunatic Strikes Him in Neck with Machete

The Dominican Republic is reeling in horror after yet another brutal machete incident led to the near lynching of a suspect before authorities managed to intervene.

Weapon of choice as society collapses. CDN

Listin Diario, a large-circulation daily in the Dominican Republic, reported that Victor de Paula simply entered a corner store in the capital of the Caribbean island and, without uttering a word, struck Antonio de la Cruz in the neck. 

Mr. de Paula attempted to make his getaway on foot, but was apprehended by a large crowd of individuals who came to the verge of lynching him, something that has unfortunately become too common in the once-safe country.

A family member of the victim told the media that there was no apparent motive for the crime, as has been the case in previous attacks. 

According to some Dominican sociologists, rapid urbanization has destroyed the structure of support once provided by the large, cohesive Dominican families, which, combined with rising wealth disparity in Latin American's fastest-growing economy, has led to a volatile rise in violent crime on the island, attacks often directed against the most defenseless. 

In a country where guns are heavily regulated, and where the government has set in motion a disarmament plan, mentally-deranged individuals rely on bladed weapons to carry out random attacks. 

A family is crying over its lost child today, but they won't be the last, since the government will never be able to outlaw machetes.

Our Humble Website Has Four Detectives Sweating Us

A tense week for Abreu Report as one of its editors was interrogated by Dutch police over an article published on this website.

Willem Jebbink, the same lawyer who defended a Dutch citizen from a charge of lèse-majesté and in the process decided to subpoena the King and Queen, is representing our soft-spoken editor, Jose Abreu. 

"There's multiple people writing for our website, some are far out of the reach of Dutch jurisdiction, but apparently the Dutch police think they can go after me based on the fact that there's allegedly a picture Add caption of me here," Mr. Abreu told Abreu Report. 

The police detective who was "offended" by that article published about her on here is extremely pissed off. Because the insult was not made directly to her while in uniform, Abreu Report's editor cannot be charged with insulting a police officer -- a crime here in the Netherlands. Instead, the policewoman alledges that she was personally, as a civilian, offended by our hard-hitting piece of journalism. 

The interrogation was originally scheduled for August, but it was rescheduled at the last minute. "Since insulting someone is not a serious crime, my lawyer and I thought that a new appointment wouldn't be scheduled, but it seems like someone is putting pressure on them, maybe Officer Cheesecunt is PMSing," said Mr. Abreu.

Detective [censored,] the officer in charge of the investigation into Abreu Report's article, was not present during the interrogation. "There were two other detectives in the room, one of them was Asian and could have been doing undercover work, maybe trying to catch that serial killer," said Mr. Abreu referring to the murderer going around distributing white heroin as cocaine and killing tourists in Amsterdam.

So, not only can the Dutch police schedule interrogations for petty crimes on short notice -- when it involves Kings and Officers being "insulted" -- but serial killers remain on the loose with little action. Simply put: the Amsterdam Police doesn't care about tourists dying from overdoses. After all, we all know that Officer Cheesecunt will lose sleep over this website, but never over those dead "junkies."

"I went into the interrogation room with my lawyer and we asked, as is our legal right, to examine the evidence against me. The white detective needed to get on the phone with Officer [censored] to determine if he could indeed follow the law. I believe that this was simply a ruse that he used to determine how I behaved while he flipped through the case file. I noticed something that looked like my facebook page and whispered into my lawyer's ear: 'they have my facebook?'" Mr. Abreu informed Abreu Report.

It turned out to be a shitty, Google Plus page which anyone could have printed out. It had a picture in black and white of some guy with a hat, but Mr. Abreu assured Abreu Report that he has never owned such a hat. 

Mr Abreu & Mr Jebbink exit police station

"When they handed us the case file to examine, and just before the detectives exited the room, the white detective said, 'don't blink.,' indicating to me that he was simply paying attention to my behavior. Mr. Jebbink then informed me that police will make a note of everything, even if I blink or smile or whisper."

Such is the level of tyranny and callousness which people in the Netherlands are subjected to: they have to fear smiling, blinking, whispering, rolling their eyes, and maybe even breathing hard in front of the police. My aunt who has travelled the world warned me against coming to the Netherlands: "those people are cold, cold as ice," she told me. But it's not that the people are cold, it's that their legal system teaches them that stoicism and silence is the complacency a monarchy needs to survive in the 21st century.

Dutch Police Have Summoned Me for Writing "Offensive Material"

On the 2nd of July, I wrote an article - Dutch Policewoman Lied for me, Helped me Gain Acquittal -- an opinion article where the word "opinion" is explicitly used, and where I write: 

"With great help from [name removed; threats against my person have been made,] the most corrupt cunt in Europe; in my opinion. it's my opinion, which I'm legally allowed to express in this great, liberal country!"

It's my right to be angry, there have been inconsistencies committed by the Dutch police at every step of my interactions with them. Even when I was the victim of a serious crime and I went to report the felonies against me, I was denied the right to file an affidavit. In essence, Dutch police are cooking the stats by preventing poor minorities from filing affidavits, using coercive and intimidating tactics. 

So, now that I've finally started reporting everything that is happening not only to me, but to countless other poor, brown Moroccan males in this country,  [censored] from the Linnaeustraat Police Station has sent me a letter, telling me that I must present myself before the same police station where Officer [name removed; threats against my person have been made,] works. 

I don't reside in Amsterdam, so this is in my opinion clearly an intimidation tactic to keep me from writing. In a manner worst than the Soviet Union, I have been informed that I must cover the cost of a lawyer myself. More terrifying, the letter explicitly informed me that I cannot summon a lawyer during the middle of the interrogation, should it become hostile or abusive. There are reports in this country of poor Moroccan males being punched in the ribs and forced to give a specific statement.

Thus, if the investigation becomes hostile, and I possibly become the victim of a brutal beating, like many of the other brown individuals in this country, they can tell me that I don't have the right to call a lawyer. Yes, this is explicitly written in the letter, I'm simply not allowed to call for a lawyer during the middle of a brutally coercive interrogation.

Now, I will be fair, it's not just controversial American writers who are being summoned by the Dutch police. Just recently, Geert Wilders -- leader of one of the far-right parties here in the Netherlands -- was summoned by the police for standing before a crowd and asking: "Would you like fewer Moroccans or more Moroccans?"

The prosecutors want to charge Mr. Wilders with "inciting hate." If you thought that the Netherlands was one of the most tolerant countries in the world, with the strongest protection for freedom of speech, you were wrong! On any given day, Donald Trump accuses undocumented Mexicans of being "rapists," but the supposedly most-radical politician in the Netherlands is constantly being harangued by prosecutors who police his speech. 

Now that I've started writing about the crimes of the Dutch police -- the chained dragging of a minor, their abuse of Moroccans -- now I must be summoned to answer questions about "offensive" material which I'm allegedly posting on this website.

Monkey Black Stabbed to Death In Barcelona

Catalan newspapers have now confirmed the identity of the victim in last night's stabbing: the renowned Dominican rapper Leonardo Flores Ozuna, more famously known as "Monkey Black." The 27-year-old rapper was a pioneer of the urban merengue genre, which deals with topics of inner-city poverty, crime, vice and which is rapped in the island vernacular.

Monkey Black had been living in Spain for four years, but his productions maintained the language of the Dominican streets. Catalunya's Mossos d'Esquadra have not released details concerning the attackers beyond their nationality: Spanish. 

According to some unconfirmed reports, the knife fight was sparked by Monkey Black's attempt to seduce the partner of a Gitano. If confirmed, this incident promises to strain relations between the Dominican and Gitano community.

So far, the comments sections of the major Spanish news sites covering the stabbing are largely filled with racist comments. Many commenters have made veiled jokes around Monkey Black's nickname, while numerous others concentrate on the "poor quality" of the Dominican vernacular utilized by Leonardo in his songs.

Artists like Eminem and 50 Cent have had a tremendous influence in the evolution of Dominican music, and one of Monkey Black's videos wouldn't stand out of place in a BET hip-hop line-up. Vakeró, el Lápiz Consciente, and Mozart La Para -- who along with Monkey Black formed the core of urban merengue -- have expressed their sadness at the death of their colleague. 

It's unclear what legacy Monkey Black will have, but it's obvious that his talent was extinguished before reaching full brightness.

Soccer Star Josenir Abreu Stabbed to Death, Referee Beheaded in Retaliation

A little game of soccer turned deadly in rural Brazil after referee Otavio da Silva decided to expel Josenir Abreu during the middle of a game. Josenir Abreu pushed Otavio to the ground in anger, and Otavio immediately produced a knife, stabbing Abreu in the chest. Abreu did not resist the stabbing, suffering two penetrations, and later died en route to the hospital.

The fans, in a fit of rage, began to throw stones at Otavio and subsequently disarmed him. The fans started to beat Otavio with sticks, and thereafter began to dismember him with a sickle while still alive. Otavio's legs were methodically cut, and later his head was placed on a 'pike.'

A resident of Pio XII, the municipality where the incident took place, said the following: "The referee kicking Abreu off the field was no justification for Abreu to push the referee. However, being pushed does not justify stabbing someone in the chest twice, nor does stabbing someone twice justify such a heinous act. Are we returning to the middle ages?"

Concerns have been raised about soccer violence in Brazil, but one resident of Maranhão informed Abreu Report: "Soccer violence is common, it happens in the UK too. I don't think one little incident should spoil people's hopes for the World Cup."

The residents of where the incident took place claim that the town is safe, and that the incident was caused by individuals from another town.

Left-wing Raw Story Furthers Anti-hoodie Stereotypes

Throughout history, man has been known for his brutality to man. It goes back hundreds of thousands of years, with our early ancestors' bones showing evidence of cannibalism. Indeed, the human race came close to extinction about 70,000 years ago during the Tuba supervolcanic eruption, which brought the entire human population to just under 10,000 individuals. After the Tuba eruption, the sky darkened, the earth cooled, and life became a struggle. The most combative, the most cooperative were those that survived.

Fast forward to the present, and we are now living in a world with 7 billion interbred, cooperative and combative souls constantly struggling in a battle for dwindling resources. Those that cooperate in combat while wearing uniforms are celebrated as heroes by their respective combat clans, but those that do so in secret, often earn the scorn of all the clans.

Today, Raw Story has a story about a group of nefarious hackers who last year targeted the media, and are now targeting a think tank seeking to shape economic policy. The article is not very clear on whether the group is backed by the Chinese military, but we are subconsciously made aware of the fact that these hackers are wearing hoodies while they go around hacking.

 

Considering how politicized the hoodie has become in America, it behooves me to ponder how it is that in the past couple of weeks I have seen African-Americans wear hoodies with an-almost religious level of symbolism infused, and then to go on and see such a picture from a news organization that purports itself to be progressive.

 

I'm only shocked to see Raw Story promoting anti-hoodie stereotypes, because even WND -- a highly religious, far right news organization -- had a story 6 days ago with the alarming headline: "Black man in hoodie banned from mall; handcuffed by police despite not committing crime." Just on the 17th of last month, Ann Coulter had this to say on WND, in her column headlined: "To avoid looking like a criminal, don't commit a crime."

 

Coulter wrote: "Perhaps, someday, blacks will win the right to be treated like volitional human beings. But not yet." Clearly, Coulter is not sympathetic in words to her black viewers on Fox News, or in writing to all the black readers of WND, but even she did not dare insult the sanctity of the hoodie. In fact, she argued that it was ridiculous to assume that the hoodie was the cause of the whole Zimmerman affair in Florida.

 

I can safely say that I no longer know what exactly to make of the hoodie, but I am wearing one as I type this because I'm sitting on the balcony of this very windy Dutch island. Does me wearing a hoodie make me a dangerous hacker, or a dangerous writer? Raw Story seems to think so. Someone needs to remind Raw Story of what our esteemed Representative Bobby Rush had to say on the subject of hoodies: "Just because somebody wears a hoodie, doesn't make them a hoodlum. The Bible teaches us, Mr. Speaker, in the Book of Micah 6:8: 'He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.' And in the New Testament, Luke 4:18 teaches us these words: 'The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed free. I urge all who hear these words to heed these lessons, may God bless Trayvon Martin and his..." as he was dragged out of the House of Representatives to: "The Chair will ask the Sergeant-at-Arms to enforce the prohibition on decor." The Chair then went on to remind everyone that hats were forbidden inside of the chamber, but a Sikh could not be forbidden from wearing a turban inside of the Chamber, so it goes to reason that Bobby Rush's religious freedom was directly assaulted.

 

 

I for one am just glad that the New York Senate does not forbid the wearing of hoodies, and six hooded lawmakers went on to read the names of black men who had been martyred by New York police, but it was not clear if they were martyred for wearing hoodies. However, the very direct revelation is made that the names of the dead should be read while wearing a hoodie, and that hoodies can bring death.  

Drunk Soldier Beats Up Korean Grandpa

Korea is a land of extremes; in a mere few decades it has gone from the development level of Ethiopia, to that of France. It has all the hallmarks of a modern democracy, but not when it comes to drinking. If it is the case that you are a businessman and the company takes you out for dinner, you have to prove that you are man enough to handle a few bottles of soju; blackouts are encouraged. Jae Jae is a famous tailor, a staple fixture in my fiction, but he behaves more like a Korean businessman.

 

Jae Jae was loaded -- extremely drunk -- say sources who witnessed the incident as it unfolded. My source says that Jae Jae was incomprehensible that night, and that he is usually incomprehensible when drunk. "To the best of my knowledge, the only two words in English that he knows when drunk are 'fuck you'. There is also the possibility that the word America or Miguk was thrown around with those other two. In his drunken rage, the GI thought that he was defending America. He repeatedly screamed that he had spent 6 years in Iraq, and that he was not going to put up with Jae Jae's bullshit, and that he had killed more men than Jae Jae had even met."

 

According to sources, the soldier was also very drunk. And, funny enough, the soldier had been in an altercation with my source: "I ended up getting into a fight with that guy before as well. I was in Seoul Pub for a social drink with friends, when I noticed that he walked in; I politely commented to him that he looked like Matt Hardy, the wrestler... he got offended. Without any indication, he approached me and punched me. 'I'm not Matt Hardy, motherfucker!' he screamed at me."

 

However, it would be the case that my source would end up drinking with this grandpa-beating GI some months after his Youtube rise to fame. "A couple of months after the Jae Jae smackdown, my Irish acquaintance and I happened to chance upon him while engaging in extended drinking festivities. He hung out with us all night and it became apparent that he has issues. He was hurt, part of his lower leg was blown off -- or something to that extent -- and it was apparent that his mood would shift wildly, that he could just snap at you at any moment. He didn't have a limp or anything, but he was just one word away from breaking his leg on you."

I then asked my source how he thinks Jae Jae would feel if he read this article: "Well, very unlikely that he will, but even if he does, he'll only understand 'fuck you america miguk' and he'll like the article." I for one do hope that Jae Jae likes this article.

Stabbed, Censored, and Imprisoned for Radical Atheism

Bengali blogger Asif Mohiuddin has a penchant for anti-superstitious writing; not an easy task in a small, densely-populated country like Bangladesh. In 2011, Asif was arrested by the police for filming a protest, and immediately was pressured and told by the police to: "stop writing."

Asif was undeterred, however, and he continued writing about the problems afflicting his highly-religious nation. In January of 2013, Islamic radicals brutally stabbed and tried to murder Asif; apparently angered by what they perceived to be blasphemy on his part. Asif wrote in vivid detail about the attack, and was subsequently censored by the Bengali Telecommunication Regulatory Commission.
 

On March 13, the BTRC took down his blog, and he was subsequently arrested on the 3rd of April under charges of libel against God, Islam, and Mo'diddy. Asif was released on bail on the 27th of June, with his trial scheduled for the Fall. If the world does not become aware of the grave and severe injustice directed towards Asif by the Bengali government and its radical Islamic fronts, then clearly the terrorists will have won. In keeping with a spirit of anti-censorship, I have decided to post here in full the blog-post that got Asif censored by the Islamic radicals in the BTRC. I have read evidence to suggest that members of the Bangladesh Telecommunication Regulatory Commission have donated money to Al-Qaeda associated forces, and ultimately plan to conspire against the United States, possibly opening up a new front in the War on Terror. If you're not aware of your history, you should know that up until the 1970s Bangladesh was known as East Pakistan. Pakistan is where Osama was living while he plotted against the United States.

 

The title of Asif's post refers to how the philosopher Socrates was instructed to die; by drinking a cup of hemlock -- a poisonous herb.

Speak, for the Cup of Hemlock is not yet on Your Lips

by: Asif Mohiuddin

I was traveling to work to start a long night shift. I was traveling by three-wheeler and from a distance I saw three men standing at the gate of my office-building; not a very unusual sight. Therefore -- not paying much attention to them -- I went to pay the fare of the three-wheeler. I was facing back to them. Then, suddenly,  I felt a hammer-blow to the back of my head. It was extremely painful and debilitating. Before I could pay much attention to that injury, I felt a stranglehold locking my head tight. Immediately afterwards, I felt a bunch of stabbing wounds in my back. Terrorists usually fail to hide their excitement during an attack; they usually swear and shout. But these terrorists were the exception, they did everything in complete silence without saying a word, not even the signature “Allahu Akbar!”

By that point, I had already suffered a hail of knife and machete blows to my back and neck. Every single of those stabs were pointed vertically downwards on my body with the apparent objective of plunging the entire knife inside. Later from my doctor I came to learn that two of the wounds in my neck were the most severe; one was 6 centimeters deep and the other 4 centimeters; both of which missed my spinal cord just by half an inch.

 

"My entire body and the spot where the attack took place were completely drenched in blood"

Meanwhile, the man holding me in a stranglehold was trying to slit my throat. I understood that if he successfully managed to sever my carotid artery, that I would have no chance. And this understanding probably made me fight back. I employed the entire strength of my body and got out of the stranglehold repulsing the attackers. One of the attackers came back and blew his machete to my abdomen, but luckily I was able to dodge it. Then realizing that I was also willing to fight back, the attackers fled and ran away into darkness. A very important thing to notice in this attack is that the attackers were not robbers at all; they did not come for my mobile phone, my tablet or my wallet; they came only for my life. This observation confirms my suspicion that it was an Islamist attack.

I was bleeding badly; still, I was trying my best not to collapse. I realized I must live. This sheer will to live out-shadowed my sensation of pain and injury. After a minute or two a couple of men came by from a nearby shop. I requested one of them to find my spectacles, which I lost over the course of the attack. After getting my glasses back I asked one of them the location of the nearest hospital. Luckily, there was a small clinic just next to the main road, very nearby. Enforced with the aforesaid ‘sheer will to live,’ I ran to that clinic.
 

"To my shock and surprise, I found nobody in the clinic helped"

As I entered the clinic I shouted: “I am loosing blood at a shocking rate, please stop my bleeding, or else I will die!” But, to my shock and surprise I found nobody did anything, they rather told me to wait for the police to come and that they could treat me only in the presence of the police; I do not know why, probably they thought me being an outlaw of some sort caught in a street battle or something. Anyway, finally the police arrived and my wounds were washed. The clinic decided that my wounds needed to be treated surgically. So, they transferred me to the nearby Monsur Ali hospital, a surgical facility. On my way to that hospital I called my sister and fellow blogger Baki Billah and Ananya Azad and informed them that I had been attacked.

Immediately the news of me being attacked was posted in the ‘Somewherein’ blog. Some of the bloggers gathered in the Monsur Ali Hospital. I saw blogger Sharat talking on his cellphone, crying frantically. Also Selim Anwar, Mahbub Rashid, Shafiul Joy, Anindya, Ananya Azad and my nephew and brother-in-law were there. Doctors stapled the wounds in my body closed. However, the two wounds in my neck were too deep to be stapled. I remember a doctor pushing his finger inside those wounds in order to assess the depth of the wound and saying: "probably we will not be able to save this patient for the wound is so deep that it can house the whole length of my finger inside!" Doctors decided to transfer me to a bigger hospital -- Dhaka Medical College Hospital. We were waiting for the ambulance. Ananya Azad was crying frantically and suddenly out of emotion kissed me very brotherly. In return, I tried my best to smile at him.

Finally, the ambulance arrived and we boarded and set off. My nephew Anindya was trying to keep me awake and was holding my head tightly with his hands. Later I came to know this was for my spinal cord which was at significant risk, if the road bumps and the vibration of the ambulance could injure my spinal cord that would have resulted in permanent paralysis of parts of my whole of my body. By this time my sisters Mimu, Moni, Chanda, Chandana and Mumu reached Dhaka Medical College Hospital, awaiting our arrival.

Finally, we arrived at the Dhaka Medical College Hospital to find Moniruddin Topu, Faruk Wasif, Mahbub Shakil already there. They were making arrangements and were preparing for our arrival. There I met Dr. Imran for the first time. He told me he reads my writings regularly and knowing the news of me being stabbed from Facebook, had rushed to the hospital to see me.
 

"I was concerned whether I was going to live or not"

I was sent into the X-ray chamber. By the time I came back from there, a small crowd of people had gathered in the hospital ward. I can not remember very clearly because of the sedatives, but there was Mahbuh Rashid, Babu Ahmed, Taosif Hamim, Badhan Shapnyakathak and a lot others. In spite of the strong sedatives, I was trying to listen to their conversation in order to figure out the seriousness of my condition. I was concerned whether I was going to live or not. The conversation I heard was not very positive. The realization that there was a significant probability of me dying, suddenly made me feel that I needed a cigarette. To that little crowd I casually communicated this supposed last wish of mine. But, unfortunately, nobody seemed very much keen to fulfill this last deathbed wish of mine; ‘a cigarette’ seemed a rather bizarre and completely unacceptable deathbed wish to them for some reason.

Before beginning my treatment the doctors had to get a consent form signed by my sister, who was my next of kin. That form explicitly stated that if the course of my treatment resulted in my death, that it was not due to any criminal or medical negligence, but due to the very natural chain of events, and that the doctors could not be held legally liable. After this Dr. Pratap, another blogger doctor who goes by the pseudonym ‘incognito’ and a lady doctor started my treatment. First, an initial assessment of my medical condition was made. Here again the gloved finger of Dr. Pratap penetrated the two deep wounds in my neck. This was extremely painful because my neck by that time had inflamed and swelled badly. I was screaming in pain and others were hearing my blood chilling cries; and I later came to know that Babu Ahmed and my nephew fainted outside the hospital room door. The result of the initial assessment was again not very optimistic. Therefore, the doctors made my sister sign another acknowledgement form which stated that my medical condition was particularly vulnerable and surgical treatment had significant possibility of resulting in death. I can picture how difficult it was for my beloved sister to sign a form of this sort! Soon after the initial assessment, I was taken to the surgical chamber and was sedated again. The last thing I can remember before losing consciousness were the the anxious glances of Dr. Imran, Dr. Pratap, and that lady doctor pouring over me.

In the morning when I regained my consciousness I was informed that my lover was here to see me. However she was not allowed in, she was waiting outside. I was very weak at that point, yet with all my energy I yelled: "let her come in!" She entered crying frantically and held my hand. It was at that moment when I finally realized my life had been saved; I am not going to die, not this time! It took 70 stitches to staple my wounds close. Catheters were placed everywhere in my body. I was sedated and badly disoriented and needless to say extremely, extremely weak. Yet I felt as refreshed as ever when my girlfriend was by my side.

"I never lost faith in humanity nor will I ever"

I had been helped by a lot of friends and well-wishers to whom I have a great deal of thanks to give. At some point in my stay in the hospital I discovered the bed behind me in the ward that I was staying was vacant. I could not figure how a bed in the busiest hospital in Bangladesh can ever remain vacant. I never knew who it was, but later I came to know some good Samaritan paid for that vacant seat and made sure it remained vacant so that I did not have to share the hospital ward with someone else. I never lost faith in humanity, nor will I ever -- the men who assaulted me for the sole purpose of killing me were human beings. On the other hand, the men who spent their entire sleepless nights looking after me, working hard to save my life praying and crying, were also human beings. In fact, this endless stream of love from them is what hijacked my soul back from the black grips of death and restored it in the living earth, ever colorful, once again. They were countless in numbers: laymen, bloggers, well-wishers and what not.

 

Some of them came and talked to me crying; while some others came to see that I was still alive and breathing, stood far and remained standing not saying a word. I can not remember all of them because of the anesthetics-induced amnesia. But I do know, cured when I see them again that I will be struggling to find appropriate words to express my thankfulness towards them; no word I know could be appropriate, no word enough! At some point the doctors and nurses were forced to say that if not the almost mortal wounds, then the endless stream of visitors and well-wishers was going to kill me; for they were thousands in number. This large crowd of visitors also made them figure quite erroneously that I must be some very influential person, which I certainly was not.

Although I had been helped by a lot of friends, unfortunately some other person was not so helpful nor so friendly. One of the most circulated daily newspapers -- named Prothom Alo, and which claims itself to be a progressive daily -- very tactfully omitted my name from being published in one of its news cover about the Deutsche Welle award. Although they published the names of other winners, they did not publish my name despite me being an award winner. They also published the news of me being attacked as a mere ‘robbery’ instead of what it truly was: an Islamic fundamentalist attack. Also they published that news in one of the least visited corners of the newspaper as opposed to the first page headlines. In a country like Bangladesh being an outspoken atheist is not really a very good idea it seems.
 

"Blogger Rajib Hayder was not so lucky as me"

I was attacked but I was lucky, I did not have to die. But, blogger Rajib Hayder was not so lucky as me. Rajib was attacked later that month. His throat was slashed, the attackers left him only after ensuring his death. Those senseless attackers of Rajib had no quarrel with him, for they did not even know him. Still they decided to attack and kill him because they figured his writing is somehow challenging and threatening the all powerful position of Allah and the only true religion called Islam. They figured this challenge should be countered with knives and machetes for the holy purpose of the protection of almighty Allah and the holiest religion Islam. Although they believe Allah to be all powerful, omnipresent and omnipotent, they still figured he needs some protection from the literary assaults of an innocent writer who writes against what he considers to be bigoted, wrong, and poisonous. Although the weapon of that alleged assault of Rajib on their all powerful god was nothing more than pen and paper; the weapons with which those silly soldiers of Allah decided to counter that assault was much more dangerous, namely knives and machetes. They slashed Rajib’s throat shouting ''Allahu Akbar' -- or God is great -- and in doing so thought they had successfully protected Allah and Islam from a very, very dreadful threat. And what were those threats? Well, some articles written by an outspoken atheist who does not want to be told how he should live his life. However, if my reaction upon hearing these horrible sets of news becomes: ''mad, barbaric, ignorant,'' then fingers would be pointed at me; my reaction will be considered more offensive than the actual act of the slashers of Rajib’s throat and how can I not feel enraged, how can not feel helpless; how can any sensible person not?

I do not know whether I am going to be attacked again. So far all the alleged hit-lists published by Islamists contain my name, so it is very possible that I am going to be attacked again. Humayun Azad once said: “Speak, for the cup of hemlock is not yet on your lips.” Therefore, I will keep speaking, I will be writing as long as I am alive, as long as the cup of hemlock is not pushed to my lips.

"I never block any religious fundamentalist from Facebook ... the doors of thoughtfulness should never be closed"

To me death is a very natural thing. I am therefore prepared to accept it as naturally as I can. It has been years since I started writing against religious fundamentalism. In this long struggle I have made a lot of friends, comrades; quite naturally I have made a lot of enemies as well. I have repeatedly seen ideological enmity run into the personal. I also may become a victim of this enmity of a nasty sort. I know how to take criticism and know how to respect the freedom of speech of every individual. That is why I never block any religious fundamentalist from my Facebook although they very often threaten me with death and call me names. I do this because I believe the doors of thoughtfulness should never be closed, the calls of taking the path of progressiveness should never be barred. If I block them from my Facebook, if I bar them from reading what I have to write, then probably they will remain ever deprived of that very call that I believe every individual should hear and respond to. I have no hatred towards the people who tried to kill me. This is because I know they do not know what they are doing, they are senseless, at least for the time being. They have been taught and trained in this way, they have been brainwashed into hating and killing. That my attempted murderers be brought to trial and punished is not the first thing that I want. I rather want this senseless practice of indoctrination and brainwashing to be abolished someday. Only when this happens I would consider my attempted murderers have been punished and justice been done.

I have a humble request to make to you all. I do not know how long am I going to survive this struggle against religious fundamentalist bigotry. However, if I fall, please make sure nobody successfully claims that I ever was a theist, or I ever in anyway was respectful towards any superstitious middle-age beliefs commonly known as religion. I do not want to be defeated by the superstitions against which I spent my entire life fighting, not even after my death. I do not want any funeral or any sort of religious service for me after my death. I lived my life with my ideals and I want to die with them too; I do not want death to separate me from the ideology that I upheld throughout all my life with all my efforts. I have always been outspoken as opposed to being passive. I do not want death to distort my true face to any comparatively more politically correct and generally acceptable form. I am what I always have been and I want to remain so even after my death.

"I love this planet so very much. And therefore I fight for it and am ready to die for it"

And please make sure my corpse is donated to a medical school. My eyes and kidneys and every other transplantable organ is to be donated to the people who need them the most. What can be more joyful than the thought that my deceased eyes will enable a blind person to see again, that my deceased heart will be pumping blood into the arteries of a sick person? I want the rest of my body, my bones and muscles, be donated to medicine so that the pupils there can master surgery by cutting incisions on my deceased skin. I never believed in heaven and hell. I rather believed in earth, the planet where we all make our stand. I love this planet so very much. And therefore I fight for it and am ready to die for it, for it being the way I always dream it to be. In this hard battle I do not want to surrender, nor do I want to retreat.