Two years ago, Haris Soomro, who was 23 at the time, was shot in Karachi while trying to save his friend, Dua Mangi from a group of kidnappers. At first, he did not grasp the impact a small piece of metal could have on his life. It was only later that he realised a bullet does not only tear things down but also builds things up. The bullet had not only snatched away some of his physical abilities but also made him fortify the emotional walls within him.
“I used to be carefree, but after this episode, I can hardly relax,” Soomro says, two years after the incident that shook him on so many levels. “I’m almost always on edge. It’s a safety mechanism to keep looking out for a threat even if there isn’t one.”
Two years ago, on Nov. 30, 2019, Soomro and his friend, Dua Nisar Mangi, were walking back to his car after visiting a cafe in a posh area of Karachi when four men pulled up in a Black Honda Civic, and forced Dua into their car. :A ruckus was created and the next thing I heard was a gunshot,” Dua said in her statement to the police.
The gun was aimed at Soomro, who without thinking twice, intervened to prevent Mangi’s kidnapping. The bullet pierced his left lung and lodged in his spinal cord, leaving him gasping for air as he lay motionless on the road.
At that moment, Soomro recalls, “I was waiting to see if an angel or reaper would come. I had accepted that I was dead.”
Soomro remained conscious as he was rushed to Agha Khan Hospital. For the next three weeks, he received treatment for his damaged lung. As he embarked on his long journey towards recovery and was hoping to see light at the end of the tunnel, his doctors told him that he would never be able to walk again. And suddenly, the light faded away.
In a recent Zoom interview from Karachi, Soomro said, “It felt terrible, everything I had built had just vanished in a single moment. It broke me, and it was really hard to pick myself up.”
He remained in denial and kept reassuring himself that his case would be different. But the doctors kept hitting him with the harsh news that he was suffering from a complete T4 spinal cord injury, paralyzing him from the chest down and causing the prognosis that he would thus be unable to feel sensations in his lower body or walk again.
Reality began to set in only when Soomro arrived home. “When I got discharged from the hospital and came back home, that’s when it hit, I’m out of the hospital in my house, and I’m still not able-bodied. That’s when I realised you cannot really escape it,” Soomro said.
Defying the odds
Despite his circumstances, Soomro remained hopeful and turned to his guitar to find a connection to his previous life. But he soon realised that too was no longer a viable option. In his first year at the Institute of Business Management in Karachi, he had felt more connected to being a guitarist than being a business student. However, the injury proved to be a big step back for his music as well.
“It was horrible and extremely demoralising,” he recalled. “It [the injury] makes practicing really difficult because you have to sit upright and have the proper posture. All your muscles are connected, so if you want to work out your fingers on the guitar, you’re going to have tendinitis causing aches and pains,” Soomro explained, adding that he has been playing guitar for the past four years.
Soomro recently started playing guitar again due to the progress he has made in physical therapy, but his goals in life have now changed. He now aims to make Karachi more wheelchair accessible by getting inaccessible buildings and restaurants to install wheelchair ramps.
“I realised just because you got hurt you don’t want to stop living. I made this mistake where I told myself that until you get better, you don’t have permission to enjoy yourself,” Soomro said. When he accepted the fact that complete recovery is not possible, he understood it was essential to learn how to live his life being in a wheelchair.
“I should be able to go to places without having to rely on anyone else, even if I am using a wheelchair,” Soomro said. “I shouldn’t have to think about where I’m going or if I will be able to access the place.
However, Soomro is hopeful about the future. He is currently receiving conventional physiotherapy and stem-cell therapy in Karachi. Last summer, he attended Project Walk, a three-month activity-based rehabilitation camp in New Jersey for people paralysed by spinal cord injuries. Soomro says he is also grateful to his physiotherapist, who kept him motivated to the extent that he can now stand up on his own with the support of a parallel bar.
The first time he did so was in mid-June, 19 months after he was shot. He was overcome by emotion. “I could not believe it, I thought my physiotherapists were tricking me,” he said. But a month later, Soomro stood on his own and remained standing even without the safety belt usually tied around his waist and linked to his therapist’s waist as a precautionary measure to keep him from falling.
Soomro remains optimistic about the future and advises others with spinal-cord injuries to continue doing their physiotherapy, learn about occupational therapy, and never stop living life. “Don't be afraid to ask for support,” he said, “because it [the injury] is a big change. And the sooner you accept it, the better.”
“I used to be carefree, but after this episode, I can hardly relax,” Soomro says, two years after the incident that shook him on so many levels. “I’m almost always on edge. It’s a safety mechanism to keep looking out for a threat even if there isn’t one.”
Two years ago, on Nov. 30, 2019, Soomro and his friend, Dua Nisar Mangi, were walking back to his car after visiting a cafe in a posh area of Karachi when four men pulled up in a Black Honda Civic, and forced Dua into their car. :A ruckus was created and the next thing I heard was a gunshot,” Dua said in her statement to the police.
The gun was aimed at Soomro, who without thinking twice, intervened to prevent Mangi’s kidnapping. The bullet pierced his left lung and lodged in his spinal cord, leaving him gasping for air as he lay motionless on the road.
At that moment, Soomro recalls, “I was waiting to see if an angel or reaper would come. I had accepted that I was dead.”
Soomro remained conscious as he was rushed to Agha Khan Hospital. For the next three weeks, he received treatment for his damaged lung. As he embarked on his long journey towards recovery and was hoping to see light at the end of the tunnel, his doctors told him that he would never be able to walk again. And suddenly, the light faded away.
In a recent Zoom interview from Karachi, Soomro said, “It felt terrible, everything I had built had just vanished in a single moment. It broke me, and it was really hard to pick myself up.”
He remained in denial and kept reassuring himself that his case would be different. But the doctors kept hitting him with the harsh news that he was suffering from a complete T4 spinal cord injury, paralyzing him from the chest down and causing the prognosis that he would thus be unable to feel sensations in his lower body or walk again.
Reality began to set in only when Soomro arrived home. “When I got discharged from the hospital and came back home, that’s when it hit, I’m out of the hospital in my house, and I’m still not able-bodied. That’s when I realised you cannot really escape it,” Soomro said.
He remained in denial and kept reassuring himself that his case would be different. But the doctors kept hitting him with the harsh news that he was suffering from a complete T4 spinal cord injury, paralyzing him from the chest down and causing the prognosis that he would thus be unable to feel sensations in his lower body or walk again.
Defying the odds
Despite his circumstances, Soomro remained hopeful and turned to his guitar to find a connection to his previous life. But he soon realised that too was no longer a viable option. In his first year at the Institute of Business Management in Karachi, he had felt more connected to being a guitarist than being a business student. However, the injury proved to be a big step back for his music as well.
“It was horrible and extremely demoralising,” he recalled. “It [the injury] makes practicing really difficult because you have to sit upright and have the proper posture. All your muscles are connected, so if you want to work out your fingers on the guitar, you’re going to have tendinitis causing aches and pains,” Soomro explained, adding that he has been playing guitar for the past four years.
Soomro recently started playing guitar again due to the progress he has made in physical therapy, but his goals in life have now changed. He now aims to make Karachi more wheelchair accessible by getting inaccessible buildings and restaurants to install wheelchair ramps.
“I realised just because you got hurt you don’t want to stop living. I made this mistake where I told myself that until you get better, you don’t have permission to enjoy yourself,” Soomro said. When he accepted the fact that complete recovery is not possible, he understood it was essential to learn how to live his life being in a wheelchair.
“I should be able to go to places without having to rely on anyone else, even if I am using a wheelchair,” Soomro said. “I shouldn’t have to think about where I’m going or if I will be able to access the place.
However, Soomro is hopeful about the future. He is currently receiving conventional physiotherapy and stem-cell therapy in Karachi. Last summer, he attended Project Walk, a three-month activity-based rehabilitation camp in New Jersey for people paralysed by spinal cord injuries. Soomro says he is also grateful to his physiotherapist, who kept him motivated to the extent that he can now stand up on his own with the support of a parallel bar.
The first time he did so was in mid-June, 19 months after he was shot. He was overcome by emotion. “I could not believe it, I thought my physiotherapists were tricking me,” he said. But a month later, Soomro stood on his own and remained standing even without the safety belt usually tied around his waist and linked to his therapist’s waist as a precautionary measure to keep him from falling.
Soomro remains optimistic about the future and advises others with spinal-cord injuries to continue doing their physiotherapy, learn about occupational therapy, and never stop living life. “Don't be afraid to ask for support,” he said, “because it [the injury] is a big change. And the sooner you accept it, the better.”