Development does not equate to ecological disaster. But disingenuity does.
Bashundhara bares its leafy streets
There’s a whole calculus about good refugees and bad refugees, and how many of which must be welcomed where.
A lone structure is taking shape on a featureless, grey horizon. Two figures work under the beating sun, on an otherwise deserted landscape. One digs, the other carries loads of earth on her head.
As far as the eye can see acres upon acres of lush green corn plantations sway in the breeze. A cluster of houses and kitchens are shaded by banana and eucalyptus trees.
Development does not equate to ecological disaster. But disingenuity does.
Bashundhara bares its leafy streets
There’s a whole calculus about good refugees and bad refugees, and how many of which must be welcomed where.
A lone structure is taking shape on a featureless, grey horizon. Two figures work under the beating sun, on an otherwise deserted landscape. One digs, the other carries loads of earth on her head.
As far as the eye can see acres upon acres of lush green corn plantations sway in the breeze. A cluster of houses and kitchens are shaded by banana and eucalyptus trees.
