Six reasons: the stories behind the shots

Mahmud Hossain Opu is an award-winning photojournalist from Dhaka, Bangladesh. In a career that has spanned over a decade, his work has been featured in esteemed publications such as The New York Times, National Geographic, and The Economist. Starting as a staff photographer at The Dhaka Tribune in 2013, he rose to Chief Photographer before taking on assignments with the Associated Press (AP), where he is currently working as a photojournalist, covering breaking news and spot news. I have had the pleasure of working with him during our Dhaka Tribune days. 

One of the most important roles of photography is turning an event that can be denied into something that must be examined. In his very storied career, Opu has often found himself on ground zero during some pivotal events in our political history. When asked to comment on the events themselves, he answered the way a photojournalist of his calibre can: through images. What follows is a series of some of his most striking images, and our conversation about the stories behind them.

SFA: Our journey as colleagues began in the most tumultuous time, didn't it? 

MHO: I was covering everyday news during a nationwide strike when I received a call: a building had collapsed in Savar. I had never covered a building collapse before. When I arrived at Rana Plaza, I saw bodies being carried by ambulance to Enam Medical College Hospital, rescue workers pulling victims from the rubble, and heard desperate screams rising from the darkness beneath the ruins. It was the first time I had witnessed death on such a scale.

SFA: That's one hell of a way to begin a job...

 MHO: I was shocked, overwhelmed, and confronted with a tragedy I would never forget. As a photojournalist, I had arrived to document the news, but what I witnessed that day stayed with me far beyond the photographs.

SFA: It didn't end there that year, if I remember correctly.

MHO: I covered one of the most intense days of political violence I have ever witnessed during the Hefazat-e-Islam protest in Dhaka. My day began in Kanchpur and ended in Paltan, following clashes between Hefazat-e-Islam protesters, law enforcement, and other political activists. Throughout the day, I heard countless gunshots and witnessed dead bodies lying before me. 

SFA: That sounds rough. You must have really been through it that day.

MHO: Exhausted to the point that I could barely walk. I was preparing to leave that evening when I saw the area from Paltan to Motijheel engulfed in flames. I raised my camera one last time and captured the burning streets—a final image from a day of violence, fear, and devastation that remains etched in my memory."

SFA: Some images are impactful even when there's no overt violence in them. Could you share about any such work that you've done?

MHO: During the first week of the Rohingya exodus, I was documenting the arrival of refugees fleeing Myanmar into Teknaf, Bangladesh. On a day of heavy rain, I saw a mother holding her child, her face carrying a pain that words could barely express—tears, fear, hunger, uncertainty, and hopelessness. She had crossed the border with her child but, at that moment, had no other family beside her. I could only imagine the fear of facing an unknown future with no certainty of safety, shelter, or reunion with loved ones. 

SFA: What did you hope your shot would convey?

MHO: Through my lens, I witnessed more than a refugee arriving in a new country. I witnessed a mother trying to protect her child when everything else had been taken away.

SFA: While I know you thrive in stressful situations where others would panic, it would not be fair to buttonhole you as a conflict photographer. Why don't you share with us your quieter work, which has been no less impactful?

MHO: That would be receiving an assignment from National Geographic, which was one of the most lifechanging moments of my career—a dream for so many photographers. My work on climate migration became a turning point, taking me to new places, opening doors to international assignments, and shaping my journey as a photojournalist.

SFA: Yes! And one of the photographs from the project made it to the National Geographic Learning’s AP Human Geography textbook, didn't it? Congratulations! What did that mean for you?

MHO:  Knowing that my photograph can help students understand displacement, human-environment interaction, and the consequences of climate change gives the image a purpose far beyond publication. For me, this is the power of photography—not just to document the world, but to help future generations understand it.

SFA: Your work often brings you to the front lines of the climate disaster. Is there an image you've taken that really made you confront the reality of it?

MHO: I photographed a house standing isolated amid floodwaters in Sylhet, Bangladesh, where rising water had swallowed the surrounding land and disrupted everyday life. For me, this image captures the uncertainty of living on the front lines of climate change, where a home can become an island and the future of an entire family can be threatened by rising waters. As floods become a recurring reality, the question is no longer just how people survive the water, but how long they can continue calling a place 'home'.

SFA: What's a recent image that meant something to you?

MHO: This collage is the result of a decade of documenting Bangladesh’s political journey. It took me twelve years to bring these four photographs together, capturing Sheikh Hasina, Khaleda Zia, Professor Muhammad Yunus, and Tarique Rahman inside vehicles, each moment reflecting a different chapter in the nation’s changing political landscape. These are fragments of history captured on the move, as power shifts, leaders change, and a nation moves through uncertainty. Twelve years, four photographs, and countless moments witnessed—together, they tell a story of a country whose political history is still being written.

Sabrina Fatma Ahmad is Features Editor, Nutshell Today