In a year already marked by political upheaval, economic turmoil, and the ever-looming threat of climate change, the recent floods have struck with a ferocity that is both devastating and eye-opening. The images of submerged homes, washed-out roads, and desperate families seeking refuge from the relentless waters are etched into our collective memory. Yet, this disaster, unlike many before it, has sparked something profoundly different—a collective response that transcends the typical narratives of state control and political grandstanding.
Traditionally, disasters in Bangladesh have followed a predictable script: state media assures us that everything is under control, government officials outline vague mitigation plans, and political wings like the Bangladesh Chhatra League and Bangladesh Awami Shecchashebok League make highly publicized displays of aid and solidarity. These actions, often accompanied by photo ops of helicopters surveying the damage, serve more to bolster the image of the ruling party than to address the immediate needs of those affected. The Prime Minister’s Relief Fund becomes a headline figure, and social media influencers are mobilized to appeal for donations, all while the actual relief efforts on the ground are mired in bureaucratic inefficiency.
But this time, something has changed. The usual glossing over by state media is conspicuously absent. There are no empty promises of immediate solutions, no grandiose announcements of funds to be released from the relief fund, and no carefully orchestrated displays of political loyalty in the flood-affected regions.
The narrative is not being driven by the state, and we do not see government helicopters hovering over people in dismay. Instead, we are witnessing a groundswell of support from ordinary citizens, non-resident Bangladeshis, corporations, and charities.
A new spirit of ownership and responsibility has emerged, one that transcends class, religion, and geography. We have managed to create a space where the focus is not on who gets the credit but on how we can best help those in need. It is a space where the power of community, both online and offline, can be harnessed to bring about real change.
Employees from companies large and small have donated a day’s worth of their salaries to relief efforts. Mosques, temples, and churches have opened their doors and their coffers, offering shelter and financial support to those in need. Even children as young as six have come forward, breaking open their piggy banks to contribute to the cause. In the villages and towns hardest hit by the floods, the response has been even more profound.
In places where entire communities were submerged, local leaders emerged—not political figures, but ordinary citizens who organized shelters, distributed food, and ensured that no one was left behind. It is a powerful reminder that the spirit of giving and community runs deep in this land.
This outpouring of support is not just about money or material aid; it is about a fundamental change in mindset. For years, the dream of many young Bangladeshis was to leave the country for better opportunities abroad. But now, that dream is evolving. A new generation is emerging—one that is not content to flee from the challenges of their homeland, but is instead committed to reforming it, one crisis at a time. In a country where nearly half the population is under the age of 25, it is indeed noteworthy that the youth are leading the charge, driven by a sense of purpose and a desire to make a difference. They are organizing fundraisers, volunteering in relief efforts, and using their skills to support those affected. For them, this is not just a temporary response to a crisis; it is a long-term commitment to building a better Bangladesh.
The political context cannot be ignored. The recent overthrow of the government has left the country in a state of uncertainty, with an interim administration struggling to maintain order. In such a volatile environment, the expectation might have been for chaos to reign. Instead, we have shown that we do not need a strong central government to act in our best interests.
It is important to understand that this change is not happening in isolation. It is part of a broader shift in how we view ourselves and our country.
The traditional narratives of dependence on government intervention and foreign aid are being replaced by a belief in the power of collective action and self-reliance.
Yesterday, we witnessed just a small portion of this energy at TSC, Dhaka University (DU), where people from all over the city came together and raised over BDT 1 crore for flood relief efforts. We saw students stay there all day and night to pack relief materials and organize the distribution. These students come from all walks of life—some from affluent families, others from humble beginnings; some are first-year undergraduates, while others are on the brink of post-graduation. Their fields of study range from engineering and medicine to business and the arts. Yet, in this moment of crisis, none of that mattered. What united them was a common purpose, a shared belief that in the face of disaster, it is their duty to step up and take action.
For DU students, TSC grounds are a hub of events and socializing, where we usually gather after classes to sit and relax. Yesterday, we transformed it into a command center for compassion. These students did not just talk about change; they became the change.
They have shown that they understand the true meaning of citizenship—one that goes beyond voting in elections or paying taxes. It is about being there for your fellow citizens when they need you the most. So, for the first time in a long while, a disaster in Bangladesh does not feel like solely the government’s problem. It feels like our problem. I hear people say, “my country, my responsibility,” instead of the common ownership that diffuses accountability and responsibility. As we look to the future, it is clear that the real strength of Bangladesh lies not in its government or its institutions, but in its people. They are the ones who will rebuild this country with their hands, their hearts, and their unwavering belief in a better tomorrow.
This is a new Bangladesh—a nation where people from all walks of life come together to face challenges head-on, where the barriers of class and religion are overcome by a shared sense of purpose, and where the future is shaped not by the decisions of a few, but by the actions of many. It is a country that is stronger, more resilient, and more united than ever before. If this is not the Bangladesh we dreamt of, I do not know what is.
