Views

An empty Dhaka on Eid and the questions we should ask

empty Dhaka during Eid
Photo: Star

At this point, it's Eid tradition. The same roads we spend so much time stuck in for most of the year start behaving differently—the signal at Bijoy Sarani doesn't seem to take ages; the Karwan Bazar intersection feels unclogged; even crossing Mirpur 10 seems less daunting. A relatively less crowded Dhaka is delightful for those who stay back during Eid, and many are often heard lamenting about the possibilities if only Dhaka was less populated all around the year. The sparrows would be seen again (they've been missing for a while), pedestrians would be less angry, and life would be heaven.

If only things were that simple.

Before we daydream of a Dhaka with Eid levels of population density across the year, let us stop to consider why so many people live in Dhaka. The common answers would be that Bangladesh is incredibly centralised—economically, politically, and in terms of essential services like education and healthcare. People come to Dhaka from all corners of the country to earn their money, and spend it too. In Bangladesh, all roads lead to Dhaka.

So, how did that come to be? The answer to this question may not be as straightforward as the one before, but in broad strokes, one could blame geography and political history. Bangladesh's physical geography is dominated by rivers, and if someone were to look at a map of Dhaka, a city on the bank of one of the major navigable rivers in the country, which has grown to be cordoned off on all sides by other navigable rivers, things start to make sense. Dhaka's western reaches are on the banks of the distributaries of the Jamuna, while both the Padma and the Meghna are relatively close by water and on land. The city is a regional transportation hub, not only by design, but by origin.

Consider Dhaka's relatively temperate climate where it's not so close to the ocean as to feel the wrath of seasonal cyclones, but not so far away that the harshness of either winter or summer is felt. Dhaka is situated close enough to major agricultural hubs that can support the city's population, and the ease of transportation makes it the right place for industries to grow where people can be employed.

But of course, many cities in a region can have these advantages. To understand why it had to be the capital of our country where everything had to be centralised, we must look at our political history, or at least one discernible pattern that can be found there. While Dhaka has been inhabited for centuries, if not millennia, it came into prominence when the Mughals decided to settle this region and found the areas in and around modern day Dhaka to be the right place for a new city. The important point to note here is that Dhaka was not settled as a city or a capital by local rulers. Overlords in a distant land picked this place where they'd base their satellite of influence, and for the ease of governance that distant overlords seek, one location where politics and economics are centralised is beneficial. It makes for efficient governance in times of peace and prosperity, and an effective chokehold if things were to get hairy.

The Mughals were followed by the British, who were then followed by the Pakistanis, and by the time Dhaka became the capital of Bangladesh, it was yet to be governed by a truly independent, local base of power. This region, the East of the Bengal delta, has always been a faraway province in a much larger empire or state.

But surely things would change after independence, right?

Looking at Bangladesh's history post-independence, one will notice a lot of grappling for power. Whoever has control of the government is single-minded about extending it; whoever does not have it wants it at all costs. This environment is not conducive to decentralisation, a process that would undo the colonial-era damage that was done to our country where Dhaka had become the sole centre of… well, everything.

Decentralisation would mean giving up power—local governance, policing, energy distribution, economic planning, and fiscal responsibility—to some other entity. A political party or leader who is in contentious control of the government and forever obsessed with keeping it would think it madness to give up any power. Hence, decentralisation—the kind that would get people to stop coming to Dhaka—has never been in the offing. Not during military backed dictatorships, and neither during the terms of elected governments.

All of this points to one conclusion that is relevant to how residents of Dhaka perceive a relatively empty city during Eid. Dhaka has a lot of people. Yes, it's overpopulated, relative to other places in the world. But Dhaka, contextualised against its geographical gifts and historical curses, has exactly as many people as it is supposed to.

This might be a radical statement given the sorry quality of life most people in Dhaka suffer, yet, people come to this city seeking a better life because it actually is possible here. A "better" life is not a good life, but it is better than whatever is available outside this city. Dhaka, in its own broken, dilapidated way, is able to support this huge number of inhabitants better than any other city in our country.

This Eid, when we go out looking forward to enjoying an empty Dhaka, let us remember that the culprit behind Dhaka's low position in liveability rankings is not its people. The people who leave town on the rooftops of trains and hanging off buses a day or two before Eid help our city survive with the vital services they provide. Yes, an empty city is nice, but if the city were left empty for even a week, Dhaka's offices would suffer from a lack of workforce, Dhaka's shops wouldn't open for business, and those left in the city would complain once more about how nothing works here.

An empty Dhaka feels great because its infrastructure and quality of city services are not up to the mark for the amount of people who are supposed to be here. It is so far behind that only after a vital chunk of people have left do we feel comfortable in our city.

But that doesn't mean we should forget that Dhaka is an urban miracle. This city is a culmination of physical geography and political history leading to one of the most urbanised places in the world. Those who are responsible for administering our city were supposed to provide the facilities and the infrastructure to support it, and it is their failure that we suffer from every day. The people are what make our city tick; we can't survive without them.


Azmin Azran is digital features coordinator at The Daily Star.


Views expressed in this article are the author's own.


Follow The Daily Star Opinion on Facebook for the latest opinions, commentaries and analyses by experts and professionals. To contribute your article or letter to The Daily Star Opinion, see our guidelines for submission.


 

Comments

An empty Dhaka on Eid and the questions we should ask

empty Dhaka during Eid
Photo: Star

At this point, it's Eid tradition. The same roads we spend so much time stuck in for most of the year start behaving differently—the signal at Bijoy Sarani doesn't seem to take ages; the Karwan Bazar intersection feels unclogged; even crossing Mirpur 10 seems less daunting. A relatively less crowded Dhaka is delightful for those who stay back during Eid, and many are often heard lamenting about the possibilities if only Dhaka was less populated all around the year. The sparrows would be seen again (they've been missing for a while), pedestrians would be less angry, and life would be heaven.

If only things were that simple.

Before we daydream of a Dhaka with Eid levels of population density across the year, let us stop to consider why so many people live in Dhaka. The common answers would be that Bangladesh is incredibly centralised—economically, politically, and in terms of essential services like education and healthcare. People come to Dhaka from all corners of the country to earn their money, and spend it too. In Bangladesh, all roads lead to Dhaka.

So, how did that come to be? The answer to this question may not be as straightforward as the one before, but in broad strokes, one could blame geography and political history. Bangladesh's physical geography is dominated by rivers, and if someone were to look at a map of Dhaka, a city on the bank of one of the major navigable rivers in the country, which has grown to be cordoned off on all sides by other navigable rivers, things start to make sense. Dhaka's western reaches are on the banks of the distributaries of the Jamuna, while both the Padma and the Meghna are relatively close by water and on land. The city is a regional transportation hub, not only by design, but by origin.

Consider Dhaka's relatively temperate climate where it's not so close to the ocean as to feel the wrath of seasonal cyclones, but not so far away that the harshness of either winter or summer is felt. Dhaka is situated close enough to major agricultural hubs that can support the city's population, and the ease of transportation makes it the right place for industries to grow where people can be employed.

But of course, many cities in a region can have these advantages. To understand why it had to be the capital of our country where everything had to be centralised, we must look at our political history, or at least one discernible pattern that can be found there. While Dhaka has been inhabited for centuries, if not millennia, it came into prominence when the Mughals decided to settle this region and found the areas in and around modern day Dhaka to be the right place for a new city. The important point to note here is that Dhaka was not settled as a city or a capital by local rulers. Overlords in a distant land picked this place where they'd base their satellite of influence, and for the ease of governance that distant overlords seek, one location where politics and economics are centralised is beneficial. It makes for efficient governance in times of peace and prosperity, and an effective chokehold if things were to get hairy.

The Mughals were followed by the British, who were then followed by the Pakistanis, and by the time Dhaka became the capital of Bangladesh, it was yet to be governed by a truly independent, local base of power. This region, the East of the Bengal delta, has always been a faraway province in a much larger empire or state.

But surely things would change after independence, right?

Looking at Bangladesh's history post-independence, one will notice a lot of grappling for power. Whoever has control of the government is single-minded about extending it; whoever does not have it wants it at all costs. This environment is not conducive to decentralisation, a process that would undo the colonial-era damage that was done to our country where Dhaka had become the sole centre of… well, everything.

Decentralisation would mean giving up power—local governance, policing, energy distribution, economic planning, and fiscal responsibility—to some other entity. A political party or leader who is in contentious control of the government and forever obsessed with keeping it would think it madness to give up any power. Hence, decentralisation—the kind that would get people to stop coming to Dhaka—has never been in the offing. Not during military backed dictatorships, and neither during the terms of elected governments.

All of this points to one conclusion that is relevant to how residents of Dhaka perceive a relatively empty city during Eid. Dhaka has a lot of people. Yes, it's overpopulated, relative to other places in the world. But Dhaka, contextualised against its geographical gifts and historical curses, has exactly as many people as it is supposed to.

This might be a radical statement given the sorry quality of life most people in Dhaka suffer, yet, people come to this city seeking a better life because it actually is possible here. A "better" life is not a good life, but it is better than whatever is available outside this city. Dhaka, in its own broken, dilapidated way, is able to support this huge number of inhabitants better than any other city in our country.

This Eid, when we go out looking forward to enjoying an empty Dhaka, let us remember that the culprit behind Dhaka's low position in liveability rankings is not its people. The people who leave town on the rooftops of trains and hanging off buses a day or two before Eid help our city survive with the vital services they provide. Yes, an empty city is nice, but if the city were left empty for even a week, Dhaka's offices would suffer from a lack of workforce, Dhaka's shops wouldn't open for business, and those left in the city would complain once more about how nothing works here.

An empty Dhaka feels great because its infrastructure and quality of city services are not up to the mark for the amount of people who are supposed to be here. It is so far behind that only after a vital chunk of people have left do we feel comfortable in our city.

But that doesn't mean we should forget that Dhaka is an urban miracle. This city is a culmination of physical geography and political history leading to one of the most urbanised places in the world. Those who are responsible for administering our city were supposed to provide the facilities and the infrastructure to support it, and it is their failure that we suffer from every day. The people are what make our city tick; we can't survive without them.


Azmin Azran is digital features coordinator at The Daily Star.


Views expressed in this article are the author's own.


Follow The Daily Star Opinion on Facebook for the latest opinions, commentaries and analyses by experts and professionals. To contribute your article or letter to The Daily Star Opinion, see our guidelines for submission.


 

Comments

আমরা রাজনৈতিক দল, ভোটের কথাই তো বলব: তারেক রহমান

তিনি বলেন, কিছু লোক তাদের স্বার্থ হাসিলের জন্য আমাদের সব কষ্টে পানি ঢেলে দিচ্ছে।

৫ ঘণ্টা আগে