NO OFFENCE
Journalist at The Daily Star
It has been more than a year since Covid-19 was first detected in Bangladesh. Much has been, and continues to be, said about the country’s handling of the pandemic.
The words “quarantine” and “isolation” have now become synonymous with the coronavirus outbreak. Social media has exploded with status updates,
The coronavirus outbreak—which seems straight out of the sci-fi thriller Contagion—has led to over 7,989 deaths and 198,736 cases worldwide. As we try to make sense out of truths that seem stranger than fiction, the WHO-declared pandemic has laid bare the fact that in an era where globalisation reigns supreme, infectious diseases no longer simply pose the risk of transnational movement of bacterial and viral infections.
Post-WWII, Bangladesh, along with countries which had been freed from the shackles of colonisation and had gained their independence, embarked upon the journey of “development”.
Going by numerous recent news reports, we have good reason to be worried about the state of food safety in the country.
A particular finding in the latest Household Income and Expenditure Survey (HIES) of Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics (BBS) blows the illusion of GDP growth being the “be all and end all” of development into smithereens.
Contrary to popular belief, it's not entitlement or narcissism or laziness that defines millennials. If anything, it's probably a sense of disillusionment that's a defining characteristic of this generation.
Defiance of the BNBC stems from the ways that it can provide immediate benefit to owners and often the users and the developers of buildings. For example, rules are violated to achieve maximum use of space when land itself is costly.
Almost seven months into the latest round of influx of Rohingyas into Bangladesh— around 700,000 have arrived since August 25 of last year—Myanmar has done next to nothing to show that it is serious about the implementation of the repatriation deal signed with Bangladesh and the safe return of the Rohingya.
Whenever we talk about the state of education in Bangladesh, the age-old debate about English versus Bangla medium re-emerges with regard to quality of teaching, affordability, imparting knowledge about Bengali culture, etc. But while many of the broader concerns have merit, the less obvious aspects of the current education system that deserve some serious thinking are often overlooked. The importance of the mother tongue in education is one of them.
Some crimes are so horrific, so brutal, so barbaric in nature that it is impossible for these acts to not make any human being feel outraged and disgusted at the world we live in. Sexual violence against children is one such unforgiveable crime.
Living costs in Dhaka have soared so high that it's not just low-income groups struggling to make ends meet—the middle class is feeling the squeeze too.
For many animal species, diversion is necessary for survival. The killdeer, for example, is famous for putting up quite a show.
Dhaka dwellers don't need official data to tell them just how suffocating and dangerous the air they are breathing in is.
The Bangladesh government has been globally lauded—and rightfully so—for welcoming with open arms, once again, the persecuted Rohingya people with whom the country has a checkered history. The Rohingyas came to Bangladesh in droves in 1978, 1992, and the 2010s.
It is oftentimes a lie that we tell ourselves to either ignore or mask the hideous inequalities and injustices that make Dhaka one of the most dangerous cities for girls and women to live in.
It is often said that if you want to know the truth about the world, ask a child. Perhaps, it's an unconditioned mind that lets a child see things for what they really are.
Eradicating modern slavery in a country marred by entrenched poverty is no easy task, especially when the majority of it occurs in the private economy—in our private homes and private businesses.