Survivor of N. Zealand massacre faces his fears
CHRISTCHURCH, New Zealand — When the gunman walked into the Al Noor mosque, Temel Atacocugu was kneeling for Friday prayers. He looked up into the man’s face, thinking he was a police officer because of his paramilitary outfit. Time slowed. Mr. Atacocugu saw a puff of smoke come from the raised gun, felt a bullet smash into his teeth, and thought, “Oh, my God, I’m dying.”
But despite being shot nine times, Mr. Atacocugu survived the attack at Al Noor, one of two mosques in the city of Christchurch that were attacked on March 15 last year, in New Zealand’s deadliest modern-day mass shooting.
Today, New Zealand will commemorate the 51 people who were killed in the attacks. Mr. Atacocugu, 45, is slowly overcoming his own physical and psychological injuries from that day. And he’s even found himself facing a childhood fear: sharks.
On the day of the attacks, Mr. Atacocugu was in a buoyant mood when he walked into the mosque. An active man who loves soccer, fishing and running, he’d just finished his last acupuncture session for a sports injury and was feeling in great shape.
Growing up in Turkey, he’d been through compulsory military training, so he quickly realized what was happening. Medical staff would later tell him he was incredibly fortunate that the bullet, which struck his upper jaw, deflected downward rather than continuing into his brain or an artery.
Mr. Atacocugu said that after that first shot to his mouth, he leapt up in shock and was shot four more times in both legs. People were screaming. Another worshipper rushed at the gunman and was killed, but it gave Mr. Atacocugu a couple of seconds to react, and to run as best he could.
There was no obvious way out, so he lay down motionless on the floor. He was later shot four more times in his left arm and leg as the gunman fired indiscriminately into piles of bodies.
Mr. Atacocugu spent a month in a hospital and underwent four operations that included bone and skin grafts. He’ll need at least three more surgeries in the months to come.
Yet his physical recovery a year later is remarkable. The wheelchair and cane are gone. His left arm remains weakened, but when he walks down the street or plays with his labradoodle, Max, Mr. Atacocugu’s limp is barely noticeable.
Mr. Atacocugu’s mental recovery is taking longer. He’s been seeing a psychologist who’s helping him work through the images and flashbacks that haunt him.
“He’s trying to pull out the dark spot from my brain,” he said.
Mr. Atacocugu has experienced bouts of depression and has been taking antidepressants since the shooting. He figures he’ll need to keep taking the medication for at least another year. He’s found that his memory and ability to concentrate have also been affected.
He said he doesn’t want to keep working at the kebab shop he ran with a business partner at the time of the attack and is now trying to sell his stake. “It’s just too crowded and too big,” he said. “People keep asking, ‘Oh, what’s happened to your arm?’”
Mr. Atacocugu said he’s thinking of turning back to his skills as a painter and decorator. It’s more peaceful, he said, working alongside a trusted crew with only a single customer to deal with at any one time. He’s also recently put in an offer to buy a new home in Christchurch, which he hopes will help him make a fresh start.
Mr. Atacocugu moved to the South Pacific country after meeting a New Zealand woman in Turkey and marrying her in 2001. The couple separated in 2016 and Mr. Atacocugu stayed in Christchurch to be near his two teenage sons.
He plans to attend the trial of the 29-year-old Australian white supremacist who is accused of carrying out the massacre. Brenton Tarrant has pleaded not guilty to charges of terrorism, murder and attempted murder, and his trial is scheduled to start in June. If found guilty, he faces life imprisonment.
Mr. Atacocugu said the way that New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern and people throughout the country came together in unity after the shooting shows the gunman has failed in his quest to sow division. Hate, he says, has lost and love has won.
“Pretty much my whole life is upside-down and changed,” Mr. Atacocugu said. “But spiritually, in a religious way, I’m much stronger than I used to be.”
That newfound strength has filtered through into other aspects of his life. Mr. Atacocugu recalled watching the “Jaws” movies when he was a boy, an experience that for months left him terrified of swimming.
A couple of months ago, on a picture-perfect day he was submerged in a protective metal cage among great white sharks that swam within a body length of him. The experience left him exhilarated. “I faced my fear.”