United News of Bangladesh

Dhaka, the planet’s second most populous city, is on track to become the world’s largest city by 2050, according to the UN World Urbanization Prospects 2025 report. This dramatic rise is largely due to the millions of rural-to-urban migrants seeking work, safety, and survival in the city. Urban Bangladesh is quite literally built by migrants, yet the state’s social safety nets are designed as if the urban poor, predominantly rural-to-urban migrants, do not exist. When more inclusive social safety nets are imagined, they miss the spatial realities that structure migrants’ everyday lives in Bangladesh’s cities. More bluntly, Bangladesh’s social protection efforts continue to have a rural bias. Research by the Centre for Policy Dialogue (2023) emphasizes, for instance, that urban poor households remain systematically excluded from more than 115 safety net schemes nationwide. The government’s fears that urban safety nets might encourage migration are often cited to justify exclusion, even though allowance amounts are far too small to offset the cost of urban living. We, therefore, end up in a social safety net architecture that treats urban migrants as invisible people rather than legitimate city dwellers. The Scale of Urban Exclusion The scale of urban migrant exclusion from social safety net programmes (SSNPs) is well documented. A 2025 UNDP policy brief stated that while nearly one-third of Bangladesh’s population now lives in cities, only about 20 per cent of social protection beneficiaries are urban, and programmes exclusively targeting urban populations receive just 4 percent of total social protection spending. Nearly two-thirds of extremely poor urban households receive no social protection at all, a far higher exclusion rate than in rural areas. Even flagship programmes such as old-age, widow, and disability allowances show minimal urban reach, and in some cases such as the widow allowance they are not operational in city corporation areas. As a result, poor urban migrants are left to survive the city without any social buffer. The Bangladesh state is cognizant of the urban gap in its SSNPs. In 2020, the government developed the Urban Social Protection Strategy and Action Plan, explicitly acknowledging that Bangladesh’s social protection system had failed to recognise the vulnerabilities of the urban poor, including migrants living in informal settlements. The strategy recognised that urban poverty is not only about income, but about insecure housing, lack of tenure, informal employment, weak social networks, exposure to violence, and exclusion from basic services, arguably making urban deprivation harsher than rural poverty. The action plan proposed a three-part framework: expanding rural programmes into cities, introducing urban labour-market interventions, and developing social insurance for urban workers. Yet five years on, this agenda remains stalled. The action plan called for expanding allowances, food security programmes, urban workfare, and national social insurance; for creating a single registry; for ensuring portability for mobile populations; and for addressing land tenure insecurity in slums. None of this has come to pass. Perhaps, the action plan’s stalled status provides us an opportunity to imagine a more robust, security and resilience oriented, city-specific approach to social safety nets for urban migrants. Missing Urban Social Safety Net is a Security and Climate Risk Afterall, the absence of urban social safety nets is not only a poverty issue. It is a security and climate risk. In cities like Dhaka, migrants are concentrated in the most heat-exposed, flood-prone, and polluted neighbourhoods, while working in the most climate-sensitive and informal jobs. Without income protection, healthcare, housing, or legal recognition, climate shocks quickly translate into displacement, illness, conflict, and social unrest. Policing and disaster response cannot compensate for this structural vulnerability. Urban social protection is therefore the frontline for climate adaptation and preventive security rolled into one. Need to Embed Social Safety Nets in Everyday Spaces Existing policy recommendations still imagine social protection as a set of programmes delivered through eligibility lists and transfers. But migration is a spatial process, and protection must respond to that reality. Global comparative research on urban safety nets shows that income support alone is insufficient in cities; protection must be linked to housing, healthcare, childcare, employability, and violence prevention. In dense urban settings, social protection works only when it is spatiallyembedded. If urbanizing Bangladesh is serious about protecting migrants, social protection must begin at the moment of arrival, in the places where migrants arrive over and over. We need welcome centres at bus terminals, truck stands, and transport hubs, places where migrants first enter the city. These centres can register inflows and outflows, provide first aid, drinking water, washing and ablution spaces, and connect people to jobs, housing, healthcare, schools, and legal support. They can also issue simple, non-punitive work licences or tokens that enable access to income without criminalising informality. Beyond arrival, protection must secure the conditions of everyday life. This means safe dormitories and WASH facilities, pathways to family housing, health insurance and a strengthened urban primary healthcare system, and schools that welcome mobile populations rather than excluding children for lack of fixed addresses. Public health must be treated as a right: enforcing food safety standards, maintaining minimum air-quality thresholds, and guaranteeing water, sanitation, and waste services in migrant settlements. Social protection must also include security and care; stronger law-and-order protection in vulnerable neighbourhoods, and public spaces for sports and recreation that help rebuild social ties in harsh urban environments. Vulnerable people often are not aware of programmes or schemes that may help them. This is why they should be able to access social safety nets precisely in the places where they experience vulnerability, meaning the city’s terminals, pavements, worksites, clinics, schools, streets, and so on. A migrant-centred safety net must be synced to the spatial and lived everyday realities of migrants. Bangladesh must, in other words, urbanize its social safety nets. As our cities continue to grow through migration and climate stress, they cannot function with security and resilience without protecting migrants. We are certainly grappling with a political failure to act on commitments, but perhaps more profoundly we are grappling with the failure to imagine an everyday lived social safety net approach for urban migrants. By Mohammad Azaz and Efadul Huq. Mohammad Azaz is the Administrator of Dhaka North City Corporation. Efadul Huq, Phd, is Assistant Professor of Environmental Science & Policy and Urban Studies at Smith College. Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in the article are those of the respective authors.

You would not believe it when I say that walking at night is the most relaxing thing in the world for me. As evening approaches and the yellow of the sky is replaced with black, the lights of different houses in neighborhoods flicker open exposing the streets-and people on the streets-to a pallid, shadowy hue. Going back through memory lane, my evening walks in Dhaka as a child meant me being hoisted off the floor by either my uncle or some other relative and toured around the neighborhood block. The sky would change color according to its own will and choice. In the long run it meant me often walking and looking up at the changing sky and watching its various shades spread all over the blue. Walking past a shop and being careful not to get hit by a car on the pedestrian sidewalk, I would ask my uncle, aunt etc to buy me something to eat. They would always oblige and I would revel at the opportunity to get something tasty to eat every time we went on a walk. Aside from that….. Walking-or going out-by night meant watching traffic in Dhaka’s busiest streets, people getting off their cars in the middle of the road and/or buying a tiny packet of badam from a street side vendor and such other sights. But I also remember that one would have to be careful while walking on the streets in the late evening so safety was a big thing. Everyone in Dhaka knows things could go out of control in a span of minutes. The sights varied and in my memory’s mirror I can see my own para with its many real-life paintings in motion or in still. The elderly walk out at night to reach parks or visit a shop to buy groceries. These would be people in their 70s and 80s going out to catch a breadth of fresh air sometimes with family escorts or occasionally by themselves. Safety was a major concern for them taking this evening walk bordering on the early dark. It’s not crime that the family is worried about but these elderly people falling down and hurting themselves. Thankfully, such scenes were rare but after all these years my memory of that anxiety still remains.   Maybe crime was an issue in some parts of the city but older residents are also stronger now, more self- reliant and taking care of themselves better. But it’s true I wish I saw a would-be snatcher getting whacked by an old man like a senior citizen version of superman. But it’s true, overall for Dhaka, precautions must be taken at night by those who want a taste of walking in Dhaka at night. Toronto Visiting cafes in Toronto at night time is different from Dhaka’s night time. With safety and security well taken care of, taking a walk to a neighborhood park is not an issue of concern for night strollers. When I was there, I would watch from my veranda the neighbourhood as night fell after the evening had gone to bed. The park was just a few blocks away where so many came around to taste the night descends amidst the trees. So much would happen there. It had swings and other playground toys for children. There was a large space for events and activities held in the park. I would enjoy riding the swings at the park in the daytime but I would not go out at night alone as a stabbing had once occurred there a few days back and so for many children, night outs were off for a while. But then crime is so low in that city that family walks returned and the night was claimed back by the people living there. For those living in downtown Toronto, the lights, busy streets and endless people walking through offer a visual and sensory stimulation of their own. Downtown Toronto offers many peaceful delights, like the cafe where some of them one can even pet a cat as an extra. Interestingly, such joints have now opened in Dhaka too. In terms of the cozy feel that one gets visiting a nearby convenience store, Toronto and Dhaka both offer that sense of pleasure including visiting vendors or joints for a midnight snack and tea. Both cities are different and also the same in many ways. Both have their own tongues in which they speak to the residents but both are welcoming to all. Toronto is in the richer part of the world so many matters of safety and pleasure are taken for granted but Dhaka with all its limitations offers an experience all of its own.   So get up, open the door and take a walk as the lights come on.   

This morning my daughter, Shahrin, herself a civil engineer, excited, sent me a text from Cox’s Bazar, where she is on a holiday with her two sons, Tanzif and Tawfeeq, and her BUET faculty husband, Dr Asif Raihan: “Chhoto nanima (my wife Dr Zinat Mahrukh Banu’s youngest maternal aunt) invited all of us to a reception of Upal mama (maternal uncle) on the 27th.”  Upal is the nickname of Professor Osama SM Khan. The University of South Wales, in the UK, has announced the appointment of Professor Khan as its new Vice-Chancellor and Chief Executive, who will join the university in May 2026. It means Osama is going to be the first Bangladesh-born, as well as Bangladeshi-educated chief executive of a public university in the UK. To all of us this means the nation achieved something significant and honorable, a new success or accomplishment that brings pride, just like our heroes historically added feathers for victories on this 16th December – our historic Victory Day.  

 He is Prof. Mahbubullah to many and “bhai” to us, He was felicitated by many of his admirers at a recent event at the Press Club where his books were discussed by eminents like him. The occasion was meant not just to salute the person but also his books, the work that he will be leaving behind bearing his thoughts. It's an interesting journey that the once jailed revolutionary has slowly evolved in the public mind as an eminent scholar.   I realize that in many ways, he remains one of the last of his generation, who believed that there was such a place as a better world, where Marxist socialism held all the answers and the young ones like him were all ready to give their all for it all.  That is no longer so anywhere and it’s in this departure that sharpens the profile of a generation who in so many ways personified politics as the path to hope , a path now lost to the weeds of time. The Marxist’s manifesto of Independent Bangladesh I am saying all this because Mahbubullah bhai is very much a part of that “independent state” making history of Bangladesh in 1971.  How many people would know that he along with his party comrades had stood in front of a crowd and read out a manifesto of an independent Bangladesh?.  As a consequence, others on the podium – Kazi Zafar  and others + - had arrest warrants issued but they  went into hiding  but Mahbuullah bhai was arrested. In the trial that followed. Mahbubullah bhai was found guilty and jailed. His 1971 was spent behind bars, a testimony to the integrity of his political thoughts. But it was not nationalism that had moved his mind, it was socialism that separated him and his politics from the mainstream and the two never met. The post 1971 Bangladesh The politics of pre-1971 Left was very ideological, uncompromising, commitment driven but also very dogmatic and intolerant. What held them together was also what divided them. The ideology of the Left was either pro-“Peking “as Beijing used to be called and pro- Moscow, two distant meccas.  International politics ruled the waves of local politics going deep into the realms of  Bengal’s distant villages even. Between 1972 and 1975, despite all the bloodshed, the Left emerged as a ship of nobler souls than the average politicians of the mainstream. Whether it was Siraj Shikder  of the Sharbohara Party  who had taken to armed confrontations and was felled or Mahbubullah bhai’s political chariot that was more focused on the structure of political change making , they  stood tall. They were however never a serious contender  for state power as 1975 and subsequent changes showed but they stood tall , respected for their integrity and who some hoped would perhaps succeed one day and set up a poor people’s  paradise on earth. It was not to be as global history shows  but to many including us, they were people of integrity who were committed to positive change. But history has its own way of deciding its path. And one day the old regime died and if the AL was a casualty, on looking back can see that the independent Left of many kinds also faded away partly perhaps as the main foe was gone. A political construction which had pushed away the old regime claimed the formal seat of power and many members of the old Left drew close to that.  History’s equations once more decided the march of  time and those who  once wanted to capture the State now became more loyal to the same but as it wore different robes. The academic and the critic       Mahbubullah bhai’s life too changed gears and had soon joined the academia at Chittagong University and both his status in scholarship and rose rapidly. And one day he had reached the top in both the academic ladder but ancillary ones as well. Meanwhile, he was closer to the BNP cluster which was far less regimental or orthodox than his earlier Marxist ones. Yet he didn’t exactly give up his belief structure but was less ideological class politics driven perhaps and emerged as an eminent senior intellectual. I would remember meeting him once to discuss class politics in the home of the late Editor of Dainik Bangla Ahmed Humayun in the early 70s and occasionally later at events or socials. His world was more about words while earlier it was about action. There is a certain inevitability in this process but that affects us all. New realities emerge as one ages, family time demands grow but he remains full of heat and passion that suited him. His four walls may have changed over time but his own role within that space remained the same- to be loyal to what his intellect considered was right. It’s not about agreement but commitment.   

As the scent of winter promises relief, the fresh produce markets of Dhaka are delivering a different kind of jolt: sudden and sharp price hikes on essential food items. For the city's ordinary citizens, this surge in the cost of living is a heartbreaking compromise between family needs and financial reality. The recent spike in prices for both seasonal vegetables and proteins is placing an immediate and heavy burden on middle and low-income families, with a simple trip to the market becoming a source of anxiety. The struggles reported by consumers and small traders across the capital show a widening gap between market reality and the goal of price stability pursued by bodies like the Directorate of National Consumer Rights Protection (DNCRP). Read more: Winter fails to cool prices as Khulna kitchen markets see fresh hikes Reality of the Market The escalating prices are not abstract figures; they are deeply personal crises. Md. Dulal, a security guard, shared his heartache over a family craving. "The duck meat is now selling for Tk 500 per kilogram. My children had their hearts set on it, but with the price going up, it's out of our reach now. It's simply a luxury we cannot afford." The protein crisis extends to fish as well. Md. Mainuddin, a fish trader himself, noted the extreme costs for premium catches. "A one-kilogram Hilsa fish goes for Tk 2,800, and a large Rupchanda fish is Tk 1,200 per kg, which is far too high for the average buyer, even if other fishes are slightly lower in price."

In a small fringed settlement of Kodam Tola, Shyamnagar, Sathkhira  bordering the forests of the Sundarbans, where the rhythm of life is bound tightly with nature, the story of the Mondal family unfolds — a story of tragedy transformed into triumph and dignity. Back in 2010, a devastating tiger attack changed the life of the Mondol family forever. Subash Mondol, a hardworking man and devoted father, lost his life while working in the forest leaving behind his wife and two young children. What followed was a period of unimaginable hardship. Alomoti Mondol, his widow burdened with grief and responsibility, was left to fend for her family in a community where opportunities for women were limited, and survival itself was a daily struggle. “After my husband’s death, I had no idea how to feed my children,” she recalls softly. “There were days when I didn’t know if we would have enough to eat.” Life in the Sundarbans is never easy. The region’s people coexist with the forest, relying on it for their sustenance — fishing, collecting honey, and harvesting resources. Yet, this dependence often comes with danger, as human-wildlife conflict remains a grim reality. For widows like Mrs. Mondol, the loss of a breadwinner can mean a plunge into poverty and despair. But sometimes, hope finds its way through unexpected hands. Through the Integrated Tiger Habitat Conservation Programme (ITHCP) implemented by WildTeam in 2019 A.D. Mrs. Mondol received an opportunity to participate in a week-long tailoring training. The program aimed to empower women affected by human wildlife conflict, helping them rebuild their lives with dignity and self-reliance. At first, she hesitated she had never held a needle as a  profession, and the thought of starting something new at her age seemed daunting. Yet, with encouragement from the trainers and other women in her village, she found the courage to try. “I still remember how excited I felt when I first used the sewing machine with knowledge on designing,” she smiles. “It was something I could call my own — a tool that could help me stand on my feet.” Along with the training, she received few fabric suit pieces, enabling her to start stitching clothes for the local market. Slowly but surely, her skills improved. Her work — neat, careful, and full of heart — began to attract customers. The once-quiet corner of her house turned into a small, bustling workspace filled with the sound of the sewing machine’s rhythmic hum. As her small business took root, her daughter-in-law, Poornima Mondal, joined her. Together, they began stitching and selling clothes in their local market, creating not just garments but also a new identity for their family — one built on resilience, cooperation, and creativity.  

Bangladesh, long cited as a global hotspot and ground zero for climate change. Being swept by waves of recurrent disasters and intense weather, our nation of 170 million people frequently faces episodes of physical harm and severe outbreaks of vector-borne diseases.  The impact is deeply felt among the poorest, who constitute over a fourth of the population and depend heavily on a fragile public health system because private care is beyond reach. The poor are also the backbone of Bangladesh’s largely informal economy - when they are mostly sick, their livelihood gets affected.  Because Bangladesh lacks a universal health-insurance scheme, most health costs are borne out of pocket. In fact, Bangladesh has the second highest out-of-pocket expenditure in South Asia after Afghanistan. People in Bangladesh are financially exhausted from making medical expenses caused by frequent disasters and outbreaks of various diseases, pushing vulnerable families into debt and distress. The most urgent hazard is the intensifying summer heat, especially in cities, including Dhaka, where millions of people live in slums. In these areas, inadequate utility services, high-rise surroundings that trap heat, and cramped living conditions combine to make people vulnerable. Slums are the world’s most congested places, leaving people huddled and dehydrated. During summer, when power outages become frequent, slum people are forced to spend long hours on the streets at night, or work long hours in overheated garment factories or informal jobs — hawking or pulling rickshaws — in the daytime. In rural coastal zones, heat-waves and arid land hit farmers and informal labourers just as hard. Chronic exposure to heat is the fate of millions in Bangladesh, including the poor living in the countryside, especially along the coast, where vast swathes of land lie parched during summer as heatwaves become more frequent all over Bangladesh. Living constantly in the heat could be life-threatening. It can lead to heat exhaustion, heat stroke, heat cramps, neurological problems, and skin diseases. This is a big burden for a country where non-communicable diseases such as diabetes and heart and kidney diseases are alarmingly rising, largely because of unplanned urbanization and expansion of a rather unhealthy food industry. The summer is now starting earlier than before, stretching into the monsoon and introducing new climate patterns from March through October. And the outlook is bleak - heat-wave frequency and intensity are projected to climb even higher. Over the past few years, prolonged summers, featuring some of the longest heat waves in history, were accompanied by a clear shift in rainfall pattern, creating ideal conditions for the rapid spread of vector-borne diseases like dengue. Often, dengue fever coincides with flu season, when multiple other viruses also strike. People suffer from co-infection, heat diarrhea, and colds developing from incessant sweating.     Unusual rains also trigger flash floods, which cause injury and later lead to diarrhoea, skin infections, and crop destruction. A single flood may seem minor at national scale, but for individual families, especially farmers, a lost harvest means debt and hunger. People, mostly farmers, also die in lightning strikes, floods, and cyclones. Along the coast, people are silently dying from drinking unsafe water due to the intrusion of salinity. An increasing number of low-pressure systems and cyclones are also hindering the incomes of the poor by affecting fishing, farming and other agricultural activities. Less income means less availability of food and funds for treatments. Climate change is also taking a toll on mental health. Falling income while diseases and disasters increase naturally causes stress and anxiety. A reflection of the consequences of constantly living in stress and anxiety is evident in the ever-growing number of high blood pressure patients. Emotional wounds rarely make the headlines, though they leave deep marks on people’s lives. Bangladesh’s overcrowded public hospitals and weak primary-health infrastructure are ill-equipped for this surge in climate-driven health problems. Many rural patients travel to urban centres for care, incurring significant travel and treatment costs, often resorting to high-interest loans when no collateral exists. Every fever, every drip, every hospital visit cuts into the household budget. A simple mosquito bite can start a chain reaction that ends with a child missing class. What begins as a health issue soon spirals into a social and economic crisis. More expenses than income means productivity loss. From a macro-economic perspective, this cycle matters. Rising out-of-pocket health costs reduce labour productivity and erode life expectancy and many more. Early warning capacity needs strengthening. Developing an effective early warning system depends on the generation of reliable meteorological data, which needs investment to align it with public health planning. Some short-term steps can be taken to give people a respite from heat stress. Shaded public spaces and access to safe drinking water need to be increased. An awareness campaign on ways to deal with heat is required. Health insurance schemes and social protection programmes should be introduced and expanded to protect low-income families from falling into debt after illness. Climate related health concerns could be part of social insurance schemes. It is expected that the Government will include the climatic health concerns under the draft National Social Security Strategy (NSSS) 2026 and Action Plan 2026. Health needs to occupy a more prominent position in our climate policies. It must be placed at the very center of adaptation and resilience strategies. Health must move to the centre of our climate-adaptation agenda. If policymakers only count damaged crops or lost land, they will miss the true cost of climate change — exhausted parents and malnourished children. When extreme weather makes people sick, or worse, kills them, investing in health is not optional; it is indispensable for sustainable growth and resilience.   Dr. Khondaker Golam Moazzem is a leading industrial economist in Bangladesh and Research Director at the Centre for Policy Dialogue (CPD), Dhaka. With over 30 years of experience, he has published extensively on social issues, workers’ rights, and sustainable development, including climate and energy policy, and actively advises government bodies and trade associations on inclusive and environmentally conscious policies.   The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official editorial position of UNB.

When the restless heart that once beat with curiosity, mystery and endless imagination suddenly fell silent, it left more than just grief. It carved an untreatable wound where nostalgia of teenage years used to dwell with sweet melancholia. This Wednesday, Rakib Hasan, the revered author of the Tin Goyenda series, breathed his last at Gonoshasthaya Nagar Hospital during dialysis. He had returned often, each visit a fragile thread keeping his light alive. But now, before treatment could even begin, death claimed him, causing us a great loss. Destined to chase mystery Rakib Hasan was born on December 12, 1950 in Cumilla. His childhood moved with his father’s transferable job, across Feni and beyond, but it was fueled by a world he carried inside,  a world of shadows, enigma and bewilderment. Initially, he completed schooling, tried uneventful regular work for a while. But the 9 to 6 life could never meet the needs of a soul meant to roam the unknown, to explore suspense and to chase anecdotes waiting to be told. Some books do more than just telling stories. They hide in your backpack, peek from your desk, fold within a fat textbook, become your companions under a warm blanket and your secret friends when the afternoon outside becomes too loud. For those of us who grew up in the '90s and '00s, Tin Goyenda was all of that. Launched in 1985, it was never just detective fiction. Inspired at first by Robert Arthur Jr.’s ‘The Three Investigators’, Rakib Hasan penned the series  into a world for restless juvenile hearts. Kishore, Musa, and Robin, through their laughter echoing under moonlit skies, courage flickering through dark forests, doubts trembling in shadowed corridors, became our invisible companions. They were our whispered wishes, our daring dreams of justice. Through their adventurous tales, we started believing that mysteries could be solved, truths uncovered and that friendship could conquer any fear. And then there was Geogina "Jina"  Parker. Spirited, mischievous, and fearless, she teased Musa, challenged the boys and yet brought warmth and loyalty that tied the group together. For us juveniles, she wasn’t just a character, she was the laughter in the night, the spark in our imaginations, the daring spirit that made flipping the pages of Tin Goyenda under the dim glow of a bedside lamp feel like sneaking into another world that we didn’t understand properly then. Even now, when I pick up a yellowed book, spine-cracked and pages pale with time, a pang of nostalgia hits. An adolescence lost, yet alive within the adventures Rakib Hasan left behind. Over 400 books, including more than 150 Tin Goyenda volumes, were his gift. To many of us, those books are the worlds that will never fade. Beyond 'Tin Goyenda' It goes without saying that his imagination had no limits. Alongside works under his own name, he wrote as Zafar Chowdhury for the Romohorshok series and as Abu Sayeed for Goyenda Raju. He translated Tarzan, Arabian Nights, and other timeless adventures to bring the distant worlds into the hands of Bangladeshi juveniles. His writings were never just mere stories of solving mysteries. They were lessons in courage, resilience and quiet bravery which worked like magic to shape the thoughts of young readers. Every tale had the heartbeat of childhood nights, the thrill of discovery, the whisper of courage hidden in shadows, constantly reminding us that even in darkness, something precious waits. Now that voice has faded like the last soft echo of a bedtime story. What remains now for the fans? A few faded pages, spines worn thin by love, margins filled with the handwriting of teens who are no longer unreasonable like they used to be. Those books once held beneath old mosquito nets, read by the trembling light of a dying yellow bulb, smelled like rain, mud, dust and multiple true friends. And somewhere between those lines, an entire generation found its courage, its laughter, its desire to live long and dream big. Tin Goyenda, Goyenda Raju, Romohorshok, names that once echoed through morning schoolyards and late afternoon playgrounds, now rest like ghosts in our shelves, whispering the promises of a world that will never return. Those tiny pocket books upheld a whole new world to us and helped understand too. They taught us that mystery was never just in the forest or the fog, it was in the ache of growing up, the fear of losing magic and the adamant hope that our heroes never die. And yet, they did, just like Rakib Hasan, leaving us to wander like nomads through the dim corridors of memories, grappling his writings like torches that still flicker, even after the storyteller is gone. A final goodbye I remember sneaking a Tin Goyenda book under my blanket, heart pounding that my mom might find out, reading past midnight, desperate for just one more chapter. I remember the pride when someone asked, “Who solved it?” as if I had been a part of the adventure. Even as tears fall, I am grateful to him for the laughter, the fear, the puzzles, the nights spent with his words. For understanding the fact that children deserve great stories and that even ordinary life can hold extraordinary wonders. Goodbye, Rakib Hasan. You have gone, but your mysteries remain in our old dusty bookshelves, in aching hearts, in every juvenile’s pursuit of the unknown who grew up into adults reading your words. May your divine soul find peace! And, may your writings never lose their appeal!  

Bangladesh now stands at a threshold where the familiar theatre of politics is being rewritten before our very eyes. Once, the story was told through posters plastered on cracked walls, festoons strung across narrow lanes, and the blare of megaphones cutting through the night. Now, the script has changed. The new battlefield is the screen; the new weapons are memes. Laughter slices deeper than slogans. Irony pierces harder than pamphlets. Once, citizens gathered in town squares, markets, or outside city halls to speak up, protest, and debate. They held signs, chanted slogans, and faced one another. Today, that stage has mostly shifted - into our phones. Social media is now the battlefield, the meeting place, the soapbox all in one. In this new “public square,” comment threads, TikTok videos, meme pages, and viral posts have replaced physical rallies. Political stories, grievances, and loyalties are born, spread, and challenged in real time - often by ordinary people, not just by the powerful. This change brings both hope and danger. On the bright side, a single meme or clever post can circle the country overnight. Voices once ignored - students, artists, the quiet observers - can now speak and be heard. It is now obvious that the great battle for power is no longer fought only in the streets — it is being waged in the feeds of the masses. The ‘Youthquake’ that lit the fire: July 2024 The turning point came with the student uprisings of July 2024. Streets thundered with chants, but the internet raged with a parallel storm. Memes seared authority with biting wit, hashtags outpaced the speed of slogans, and protest art became the new graffiti—spray-painted not only on the walls, but also across screens. What once was dismissed as jest turned into a clarion call, it was not just mere annotation anymore. It was mobilization. And in that moment, the internet was not just a witness to history, it became history’s weapon. Our soil is especially ripe for this transformation because Bangladesh is a young country. Youth make up about one-third of our population.  Among registered voters, more than 30 percent are under 35. But until recently, many of those young people stayed away from elections. A survey found that 54 percent of youths had never voted in a general election. Another study reported 75 percent of youth said they had never participated in a national election. Then came July 2024. The student uprisings shook things, and young people poured into streets and into screens. Hashtags, meme pages, comment threads - politics became a conversation again, not just a grand show by old parties. Some who had never voted before began reading debates in comments, watching candidate profiles, sharing sarcastic memes about corruption, inequality, demand for change. The mix of memes and youth has created new fault lines. The young are less patient with old speeches, more drawn to sharp humor, more likely to share than just listen. In a filtered feed, one clever meme can travel faster and wider than a campaign leaflet ever could. Satire sharpens its edge: DUCSU 2025 The tide swelled in 2025 through the Dhaka University Central Students Union (DUCSU) and hall union elections. Campaigns abandoned hollow chants and embraced parody. Posters mocked currency. Slogans dripped with sarcasm, and memes that were once laughed off as simple jokes began to carry real weight, almost like political manifestos. But every sword casts a dreadful shadow as well. With satire came smear. Falsehoods spread like wildfire, targeting candidates, especially women, with venomous precision. The Election Commission intervened with warnings. It felt as if online missteps could carry the same weight as tampering with ballots. A sobering truth emerged - satire was no longer just harmless fun. It had become a fatal double-edged weapon, capable of ending someone’s career as easily as saving it. Faceless army: The bot Invasion Yet hidden behind the scene, a silent power directs the show. Bot armies, silent and relentless, amplify narratives, drown dissent and create illusions of consensus. A candidate’s popularity, or its perception at least, can be inflated in minutes. Critics can be buried beneath waves of coordinated noise. For the common voter scrolling through their feed, the line between genuine support and engineered approval has all but disappeared. Humor may lighten the meme wars, but distortion fuels them. And in this strange new arena, the opponent may not be another citizen; but an ‘Army of Shadows’. Election 2026: Rules of war rewritten As the nation steels itself for the 13th general election in 2026, the Election Commission has laid down a new code of combat. The old order is gone. Posters, festoons, and PVC banners - all summarily banished. Billboard ads, once towering symbols of influence, cut down to just twenty per constituency. Every social media handle must now be declared, every message subject to scrutiny. A single misleading post could summon not applause but imprisonment and a fine sharp enough to cripple a campaign. Clearly, the age of poster wars has ended. The age of meme wars has begun. No longer will victory belong to those who command the walls of a city. It will belong to those who command its feeds. Candidates who wield satire with skill and algorithms with precision will surge forward. Those clinging to the relics of the old world will fade into irrelevance. But the danger is stark as one careless meme can undo a career. One viral punchline can crown a leader. The margin between triumph and ruin has never been so thin. Warnings from Abroad Look abroad for signs of what may come. In Germany’s 2021 federal election, researchers documented how campaigns and disinformation used social media to sway voters. Platforms struggled to stem the tide of fake news flooding timelines. One study found that extra ad impressions on social media could shift vote shares by a few percentage points. (OUP Academic) Meanwhile, in Tanzania, ahead of its 2025 election, the government blocked access to X (formerly Twitter) after alleged “cyberattacks” — raising questions about whether this new “public square” can be shut down at will. These examples reveal both the promise and peril of digital politics: memes and algorithms can spark change, but they can also be captured, censored, or twisted by those in control. Perils of the ‘new age’ Yet the odyssey ahead is artful. The imposed regulations on ‘harmful content’ may become a stern shackle for dissent. Legions of bots could shake the very foundations of democracy, turning honest debate into a battlefield of deception. It is certain that the eco-friendly reforms will save the environment, but there lies risks of sidelining candidates who lack digital muscle to compete. Thus, the stage of Bangladeshi politics has been transformed. The festoon and the poster, once the lifeblood of campaigns, now surrender to social media, memes and hashtags. What once simply entertained has become a calculated strategy. What once adorned walls now shapes destinies. As the countdown to the 2026 election continues, one thing is clear - the real fight won’t be in crowded squares or noisy rallies, but in the digital feeds where stories are crafted, sharpened, and spread. And make no mistake, that battle is already underway. The streets may still reverberate with echoes, but the screens will be the dominant medium, for sure. And, in this kingdom of pixels and punchlines, the victor will not be the one who shouts the loudest, but the one who makes the world laugh, click and believe.

The 'Mother Ilish Conservation Campaign 2025' began across the country on October 4th and will run for 22 days until October 25th. During this period, the harvesting, transport, storage, buying, selling, and exchange of Ilish (Hilsa fish) are completely banned. The Bangladesh Coast Guard has made extensive preparations to protect the mother Ilish. Under the ‘In Aid to Civil Power’ initiative, Bangladesh Navy ships are conducting the 'Mother Ilish Conservation Campaign 2025' in the sea, coastal areas, and internal rivers of the country. They are already patrolling vast seas, coastal regions, and rivers from end to end. Beyond just patrolling, they are raising awareness among fishers through public announcements (mike-ing) and leaflet distribution to protect the mother Ilish. The Problem of Poaching and Unmet Goals Although Bangladeshi fishers adhere to the fishing ban to boost production by anchoring their boats at the ghats (docks), Indian fishers freely fish in the Bay of Bengal. While Bangladesh observes the ban, neighboring India’s territorial waters see unrestricted fishing during that time. Furthermore, Indian fishers often enter Bangladeshi waters and take away Ilish and all other types of fish. Consequently, the government’s ban aimed at increasing marine fish reproduction is not working and is failing to yield the desired results, a loss that is being complained about by the coastal fishers. The Debt Trap (Dadon) Tightens its Grip Coastal fishers are already trapped in the chains of poverty, which forces them to turn to Mahajons (money lenders/wholesalers). Though their profession starts with an advance known as Dadon (loan), the fishers get caught in a vicious cycle. Until the debt is fully repaid, they must supply the Ilish they catch, often risking their lives, to that specific Mahajon at a low price. While this changes the fortune of the wholesaler or Mahajon, the fisher's life remains stuck in the complex web of Dadon. This Dadon system, which harks back to the advance payment scheme British East India Company once used to trap indigo farmers, is now perpetuated by the fish wholesalers and Mahajons. Millions of people on the coast are involved in fishing, and most are caught in this Dadon maze. This system benefits the wholesalers, giving them an opportunity to form new Ilish syndicates. On the other hand, it has brought extreme despair to the fishers. The lives of those who supply the silver Ilish become colorless due to the Dadon trap.