The privilege that goes into the ‘faaka’ Dhaka discourse

Dhaka, the capital of our country, is the city of dreams for countless people. Yet, it stands on crumbling infrastructure, cramped so tightly you can feel it bursting at its seams. Ranked as the world’s second most populous city, it packs a staggering 36.6 million people into an area of roughly 1,500 square kilometres, according to the United Nations. While it remains a luminous city filled with most of the educational, professional, and career-driven opportunities our country has to offer, from a bird's-eye view, the twinkling lights of Dhaka's nightlife cannot drown out the frustrations of its residents.

Almost every problem of this city can ultimately be boiled down to overpopulation, in my opinion. As the mega-capital, it inevitably attracts people desperate to turn their lives around—whether they are graduates chasing high corporate ambitions or climate refugees seeking shelter in the sprawling slums. You can’t deny that Dhaka has a systematic problem. After all, trying to accommodate people well beyond what the land can offer is utter madness.

Therefore, during any major holiday—especially Eid, when a very big portion of Dhaka’s population leaves for their hometowns—the residents who stay back can’t help but sigh in relief. Suddenly, people are celebrating how nice it is to finally reach their destinations on time. The air feels cleaner as there aren’t many buses on the roads, street vendors aren’t blocking the sidewalks, and you can walk on the footpaths without constantly bumping into people. This is a natural human reaction to getting momentary relief from a constant problem, and it is a thought we have all had at least once in our lives.

Yet, some of us take this opportunity to mock the people who return to their hometowns – “migrants” who are just temporary residents of this city as a means to better their future, by sneering on social media, saying, “Please, don’t come back; Dhaka is finally tolerable.”

This casual cruelty is often targeted towards municipality workers, domestic workers, drivers, guards, rickshaw pullers, and garment workers – mostly people who live hand to mouth. These hard-working individuals are blamed for systemic problems that should instead be solved by urban infrastructure and the decentralisation of opportunities across the country. The distance between the workers leaving to celebrate Eid with their loved ones and a person who does not acknowledge their privilege can be attributed to geographical luck. The privilege of being able to tell someone not to come back, who has no other choice but to come to Dhaka for better opportunities, needs to be scrutinised.

They did not create this trap where you must come to Dhaka for a decent livelihood, only to be forced to leave when you are out of a job. They certainly did not take part in the climate crisis that is pushing rural families to move to the centre of the country. Yet, we often overlook our own privileges when judging others.

After all, when we are done with the festivities of Eid-ul-Adha, the very first thing most of us look for is the municipality workers to clean up the waste, the domestic workers to help with household chores, and the rickshaw pullers to take us to our relatives’ homes so that we can share the joy of Eid with our loved ones. People in Dhaka celebrating Eid depend on the labour (which is often underpaid) of those being ridiculed.

If there is still any doubt that the congestion isn’t solely the fault of the general population, think of the last time you went out with your family in Dhaka during Eid. While the roads are empty, recreational spaces become overcrowded. Because this city lacks sufficient public parks, the few that exist become overwhelmed by the families who stay behind. The city doesn't have the capacity to host its residents even when only half of them are present.

Despite the fact that these festivals fall under national holidays, a huge number of workers still don’t get any vacation days. So, they remain, serving people who are celebrating these meaningful days with their families, and they can’t help but watch on.

As we navigate the empty streets this Eid, smelling the bleach in the air and riding past lonely security guards, we must recognise our own privileges and become a bit kinder. Let us stop treating the workers who keep Dhaka running as background actors in our festive reels and start viewing them as the vital backbone of the metropolis.

Eid Mubarak.

Fabiha likes to yap about her favourite media with people. If you also like to be unhinged about anything, send her your unabridged thoughts at s.fabiha.amreen@gmail.com.