Bodies release their ‘last breath’: forensic pathologist tells all

TikTok forensic pathologist Dr Yaseen Bismilla on death, justice and the cases that never leave him

‘A typical day starts in the mortuary. I’ll do autopsies on traumatic, unnatural or suspicious deaths’: Dr Bismilla (Dr Bismilla)

Dr Yaseen Bismilla fell in love with forensic pathology after his internship.

His videos on TikTok have drawn thousands of South Africans into the hidden world of autopsies and death investigations.

The forensic pathologist, who studied medicine at the University of the Free State and interned at Charlotte Maxeke hospital, says an unexpected placement during his “Zuma year” at a rape crisis centre in Pretoria changed the course of his medical career and led him to his calling.

The Zuma year is the mandatory one-year community service for newly qualified healthcare professionals, including doctors, after their internship.

“A placement nobody wanted. I fell in love with forensic medicine, with the courtroom, with speaking for victims who couldn’t speak for themselves. That’s where my passion for justice was born,” Bismilla says.

From there, he transitioned out of clinical forensics into death investigation and trained in Pretoria to specialise as a forensic pathologist.

Bismilla said his working day usually starts in the mortuary, where he performs autopsies on bodies that have experienced traumatic, unnatural or suspicious deaths, with each case taking between one and two hours.

The mortuary is busiest at month end, mid-month and during the festive season, driven largely by alcohol-related violence and road accidents.

—  Dr Yaseen Bismilla

After the physical examinations are complete, his day shifts to documentation: writing detailed post-mortem reports for court, reviewing microscope slides for hidden pathology, integrating toxicology results and preparing for testimony.

“I also appear in court regularly as an expert witness, which is a big part of our job. We speak for the dead and help the justice system understand the truth behind a death.”

Many of the cases he deals with are deeply traumatic and some remain with him forever.

He gave an example of one femicide case, which he declined to describe in detail. “It was a young woman whose death was violent, messy and soaked in heartbreak.”

Bismilla’s master’s degree focused on femicide, and he said cases like these continue to drive his work. “Justice is the only thing we can still give back.”

Some cases, he said, have been so strange they bordered on the unbelievable. He recalled opening a body and finding a live snake inside the stomach cavity.

“It had crawled in for warmth after the person died. I nearly saw my own ancestors in that moment.”

In his early days, he said he was unsettled when bodies released trapped air after death.

“Sometimes when you move a body, trapped air escapes from the lungs and creates a soft exhale. Nobody warns you about that. You question your sanity for a second.”

One of the most disturbing cases he has witnessed involved a rare phenomenon known as a ‘coffin birth’.

“A severely decomposed woman on my table actually expelled a foetus due to gas build-up in the abdomen. Watching a body deliver a baby on its own is something I will never forget. Even the staff were rattled. Sjoe, I nearly screamed.”

Preparing for autopsies is critical for safety. Unlike surgeons who dress to protect patients, forensic pathologists dress to protect themselves.

“We dress like astronauts, full PPE, double gloves, visors and heavy aprons,” he said.

“We use knives, rib cutters and head saws. One slip can be disastrous.”

After autopsies, cleaning the equipment becomes a major operation, sometimes taking longer than the procedure itself. He confirmed that multiple showers form part of the routine.

When the building is quiet and you realise there are more dead people than alive around you, that’s when every noise becomes a problem.

—  Dr Yaseen Bismilla

The Covid-19 pandemic made the work even more dangerous. Every body that entered the mortuary had to be tested.

Bismilla believes he contracted the virus from a corpse, possibly through contaminated clothing or an unconscious bad habit such as touching his face during an autopsy.

“I was sick as a corpse myself.” After that, he added jokingly, he delegated all Covid-positive bodies to other doctors.

Through TikTok he has created a space where South Africans feel safe to ask questions about death.

“It’s made the public more comfortable, more curious and more informed about what forensic pathologists do.”

Among the most common questions he receives are whether the smell of death stays on him, where the water goes after washing his apron and whether he has ever gotten sick from working with bodies.

“Sometimes the smell lingers psychologically. I’ll be driving home and swear I still smell decomposition. But biologically, no, we scrub properly.”

He also confirmed that many diseases remain active after death and that Covid-19 had been the scariest.

The mortuary is busiest at month end, mid-month and during the festive season, driven largely by alcohol-related violence and road accidents.

Bismilla said he is not afraid of dead bodies but admitted that being alone in the mortuary after hours can be unsettling. “When the building is quiet and you realise there are more dead people than alive around you, that’s when every noise becomes a problem.”

Despite constant questions about the supernatural, he said he has had no paranormal experiences. “My brain is too scientifically wired, thankfully.”

Mental and emotional wellness, he said, is critical in the field as you become so used to abnormal scenes that they start feeling normal.

The state provides regular debriefings for forensic staff, including administrative workers.

“Those sessions help immensely. Even admin staff share what death does to them.”

At home, Bismilla relies on his support system ― his family and partner ― who hold space for him when he needs to cry or decompress.

“I’m human before I’m a doctor.”

Over the years, he said, he has become desensitised to death but more sensitive to life.

“Hearing how someone died doesn’t shake me any more. My brain jumps straight to evidence and pathology. But life and moments with loved ones have become sacred. Death teaches you what matters.”

He also clarified that families have the right to know which pathologist examined their loved one and can ask directly at the mortuary. The doctor’s name also appears on the death notification submitted to the department of home affairs.

“We must remain impartial, especially if there is a possibility that a family member may be implicated.”

Police or investigating officers usually share the findings with families, with clarification from a pathologist when necessary.

“My commitment is always respect, dignity and truth, a medicolegal autopsy is not just cutting, it is a critical step towards closure, justice and understanding.”

Bismilla says TikTok became an unexpected platform for him after he realised how frightened many South Africans are of death because they do not understand it.

Through his content, he hopes to demystify death, introduce young people to forensic pathology as a career and show that death science is fascinating, impactful and deeply human.

His online advocacy also aligns with his academic work. His master’s degree was a 10-year study on femicide patterns in South Africa, and he continues to advocate for victims of gender-based violence through both his profession and his social media presence.

“Forensic pathology is not just about dead bodies, it’s about justice, science, humanity and truth. And I’m grateful that people are finally seeing it that way.”


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