What could he have stolen that was worth his life?

I have watched the video from Moheshkhali more than once. I still cannot make sense of it.

Mohammad Faysal is tied to an electric pole. His hands and feet are bound. Bricks are placed on his shoulders. Several young men and teenagers can be seen beating him. Police said he had been detained on suspicion of theft. His relatives later took him to a hospital, where doctors declared him dead.

The video leaves one unavoidable question: what could he possibly have stolen that was worth his life?

Maybe he stole something. Maybe he did not. That remains unclear. But suppose for a moment that he did. Suppose he took some money, a phone, a piece of metal or something else from a workshop.

Then what?

Was any of it worth tying a man to a pole and beating him until he died?

It is difficult, too, to ignore the people around him. Many of those visible in the video are young; some appear to be children. There is nothing extraordinary about them. They look like ordinary people we might see every day on the street, at a tea stall or in the neighbourhood. That familiarity is part of what makes the video so difficult to watch.

And there were so many points at which this death could have been prevented.

Someone could have said, enough. Someone could have stopped hitting him. Someone could have asked others to stop. Someone could have called the police. Someone could have taken him away from the crowd.

It did not require everyone to suddenly change their mind. It required one or two people to remember that the man tied in front of them was still a human being.

Faysal's father, Badsha Mia, said he woke around 8:00am and learnt that some people had caught his son and were beating him severely. He rushed there, only to learn that Faysal had already been taken to hospital. At the hospital, he learnt his son was dead.

Imagine receiving that news about a son or a brother. Someone says he stole something. Before the family can even learn what happened, before the police investigate, before a court hears a single piece of evidence, he is dead.

Such incidents are often described simply as “mob beatings”. The phrase has become so familiar that it is easy to overlook what it actually describes. There were people there. Some were hitting Faysal. Others were around him. Each person could see what was happening.

The numbers make that familiarity harder to dismiss. Human Rights Support Society recorded 133 deaths in 261 incidents of mob violence during the first six months of 2026, compared with 67 deaths in 141 incidents during the same period last year. Another 17 people were killed in mob violence in July and 28 in August.

That makes at least 178 deaths in eight months.

The people who take part in such attacks are responsible for what they do. But when so many people are being killed this way, there is also a question for the state: what is being done to stop it?

Just days before Faysal's death, Home Minister Salahuddin Ahmed told the parliament that the country's law and order situation had seen “visible progress” and that ensuring citizens' safety was among the government's highest priorities.

In May, he had said existing laws were not enough to fully address “mob culture” and that the government would amend them or enact new ones if necessary.

Four months later, people are still being killed in mob attacks.

That leaves a basic question: if someone accused of theft can be tied to a pole and beaten to death before reaching a police station, what has changed on the ground?

Phrases such as “suspected thief beaten to death” have become painfully familiar. Behind each one is a person killed before an allegation is investigated, evidence is examined or a court has a chance to decide anything.

This should never become normal.

If Faysal was suspected of theft, he should have been handed over to police. The allegation could have been investigated. If there was evidence against him, he could have faced trial.

Articles 31 and 32 of Bangladesh's Constitution guarantee the protection of law and protect the right to life. Those protections do not disappear because someone is accused of a crime.

Faysal should have lived to answer whatever allegation was made against him. Even if he had stolen something, that did not strip him of his right to life.

Arafat Rahaman is a journalist at The Daily Star. He covers education and writes on governance, rights and public accountability. He can be reached at [email protected]