Asif Saleh

Anna Bhai, Gandhigiri and Us

asifsaleh — Tue, 30 Aug 2011 11:16:02 +0000

Published in bdnews24.com on August 31, 2011

The arrival of Anna bhai and his ‘Gandhigiri’, ironically copying a Bollywood storyline of Munna bhai and his embracing of Gandhi in dealing with national problem, has undoubtedly captured the imagination of the world. But not everybody is a fan. Arundhati Roy has almost called him a fake and the people who are seething in anger are just staying quiet for the right time to criticise him. But Anna Hazare definitely has arrived with Indian media and the middle-class hailing him as the new Messiah.

My prediction: this jubilation will be short lived and Team Anna will regularly venture into territories which will become problematic for democratic governance. However, even though I think his solutions are not well thought through (such sweeping power to an unelected body can never be good for democracy), he deserves a huge bow. At the least, the movement has made certain section of the citizens feel empowered and created a huge demand for change from the way business is being done. That is no small feat.

Sure, the most vocal supporter of his are the elite middle-class but that is also the group who are the most disaffected, risk averse and indifferent but if moved into action, this is the group that can make the most impact. Anna’s team seems to have emboldened this group and forced them into taking part in the movement.

In the meantime, in facebook chatters and iftar parties, Bangladeshi middle-class is clamouring for Bangladeshi Anna and some of our civil society leaders are feeling emboldened by Anna’s success. Ilias Kanchan will go for fasting for safer roads after Eid. So will Tarana Halim if the corrupt practise of giving unauthorised license does not stop. Syed Abul Maqsud, who never wears Western clothes protesting the Iraq invasion, will spend his Eid at the Shaheed Minar demanding resignation of the communication minister.

Regardless of the success or failure of Bangladeshi Annas, Anna Hazare has set an example that in a democracy, outside the partisan circle, citizens can truly be a force to reckon with in issue oriented politics.

In Bangladesh, the political circle regularly dismisses this group or those who are perceived to be leaders of this group as out of touch with the mainstream. Anna, whose career in public sector, is marked with hands on service in rural India, is a remarkable exception and as a result could not be so easily dismissed by the political class in India.

All in all, a good sign — anything that takes the civil society out of the roundtable scene cannot be bad. But getting acceptability among the people will be a long journey. Do they have the stomach for this arduous task? Or will they go for shortcuts like they have in the past which damaged their credibility for which they are still paying for?

But are we ready to mobilise our very own Anna? Before any change takes place, the demand for change has to be there. We have to believe that we can make a change before the real mobilisation starts. We also have to believe that business as usual is simply not acceptable. But how does one start?

There is no accurate answer to that. But may be too often we confuse our rights as citizens as our right to vote only. However, this is rather a continuous process. Before asserting one’s rights in a constituency, one has to establish the ownership first – ownership to this state and its people. Voting or owning a passport does not create that ownership. Rather paying taxes does. As soon as we realise that as taxpayers we are paying for the services, we will start demanding better services. As long as we continue to believe it’s a freebie, we force ourselves for the kind of services or the lack of it, we get.

If my last year’s tax fair experience is any indication to go by, we are surely heading that way. To my surprise, I saw long queues of ordinary citizens happily waiting to pay taxes. When I enquired inside with the officials, they told me that the majority of this group are first time taxpayers and their average returns were for Tk 2000-3000 from very average earning groups. This to me seemed like a welcome change and also seeing the kind of pride associated in their faces while paying taxes also told me that the ownership is being established. With such ownership, the assertion as citizens will begin and mobilisation will follow. As for leadership?

This won’t just depend on leadership. This will depend on the ecosystem for democracy as well of which a critical component is the media. In the team Anna movement, the media played almost a cheerleading role giving the movement a national face. The traditional media in Bangladesh, however, is going through a bit of an identity crisis.

The electronic media lacks any imagination or investment on content. One cannot distinguish one channel from the other. 10 years after the start of the first private television channel, one cannot name any new journalists other than the early Ekushey TV stars such as Munni Saha and J E Mamun. There are blips of hope, flashes of brilliance here and there but the industry flushed with corporate money is too much under rocky terrain to be perceived very dependable. New initiatives also seem to peter away without explanation. The Daily Star started the opinion poll on government’s performance only to stop after a year.

Changes, however, are happening in the social media scene. Recently, there has been encouraging signs of development in the new media scene. Due to the government’s reduction in broadband pricing, the spread of Internet is dizzying. Bangladesh now has almost eight million internet users – an astounding 1300 percent increase in just two years. If you consider that facebook alone has 1.4 million users in Bangladesh and the highest circulating daily has a circulation of 500 thousand, you can safely conclude that more and more people are consuming news from new media than the traditional media. The Arun Chowdhury scandal and the police involvement in killing of a boy in Companyganj were captured in mobile phone camera before it made it to the traditional media. Beyond camera reporting, citizens seem to be mobilising around more specific issues in Bangladesh. Particularly the one surrounding bad medical practice in Bangladesh has taken a momentum.

And as for leadership — sometimes, leadership comes from unexpected corner, but when it does and it crosses the tipping point in that ecosystem, like it did for Anna, powerful things can happen. Undoubtedly enough, the assertion of taxpayers’ civic rights is starting to happen in South Asia. In the Indian version of ‘Anna and the King’, the king was too late to recognise it. In the Bangladeshi version, however, the script is yet to be written.

Whose face are we saving?

asifsaleh — Tue, 28 Jun 2011 14:59:43 +0000

Pubished in bdnews24.com

The year was 1983. I was 9. In those days, colour TV was a rare commodity in Dhaka. We didn’t have it. But our neighbours next door, a middle-aged couple with a young girl, did. Luckily when we were at the roof, right by the water tank, we could hide and still get a direct view of the room where they had their brand new Sony colour TV. Once in a while, we would go and hide next to that tank to watch the ‘coloured’ ‘Incredible Hulk’. Who needs to listen to the dialogue when you can see the characters in colour? We were peeping toms watching our favourite monster go green in anger.

One night, however, the TV was not on air. Instead, we were introduced to a different monster – a live one, and it was none other than the man of the house. The husband was beating the wife while their 7-year-old daughter was begging mercy for her mother. I had never seen anything like that before. There was swearing followed by slaps, kicks followed by more swearing, slaps and kicks and it went on and on.

“Abbu, ar na, abbu, please ar na” – I still can hear the girl screaming at the top of her voice trying to save her mother, a respected teacher at Eden College.

Since the incident, I never tried to watch the green monster on their TV; I’ve seen that in real life. But a few days later, I saw the couple again. The husband was sipping tea and the wife reading a newspaper. Life went on as if nothing had happened.

Shhhhh… The culture of silence continues. Mum’s the word.

10 years later, I went abroad for higher studies. I took a job at the International Student Office at the university I was studying. I was the first point of contact for all the international students and so I knew the small group of Bangladeshi students there. We used to hang out as well. One of the most crowd-pulling members of that group, a PhD student, had just gotten married. He married his long time girlfriend. There was celebration, bodhuboron amid much laughter and fanfare.

Then, after a while, there was that phone call in my office:

“Asif, I don’t know if you can do something about this but he is very abusive. He kicked her out of the house and had her shiver in cold for hours.” One of the local bhabis was calling for help on behalf of the newly-wed girl, without her permission. “He beats her because he cannot control his anger,” she added.

Bewildered I asked, “But I thought this was a love marriage and they were together after a long separation”.

“He just has a strong temper” – was the rationalisation.

So I secretly sent her a note about the possible help she can get should she decides to leave him. But she didn’t. A few weeks later they both came to a party. We acted as if nothing had happened. She was putting on a smile of a lovely wife while he was cracking jokes and lecturing on how Bangladesh could be saved.

Life went on for the immigrant NRBs.

Shhhhh…The culture of silence goes on. Mum’s the word.

17 years later in 2010, I have moved back to Dhaka. A friend working at a very prestigious institute calls up.

“I have been trying to reach you for some time. You cannot tell anyone about this but you need to help me. I was living with a monster for 10 years. I was beaten unconscious once.”

How long did it continue, I asked?

“It started after a couple of years of marriage.”

“You are a highly educated, economically independent woman. Why did you stay with him for such a long time?”

“I thought it was going to be okay. He would apologise after every incident and everything would be fine for a couple of months and then it would start again. Finally, I had the courage to leave him. Now he wouldn’t leave me alone. But please don’t tell anyone. This is not very pleasant.”

Shhhhh… Still the culture of silence continues. Mum’s the word.

I don’t know the epilogue to the first two incidents I mentioned as I am not in touch with them. But I bet it is not much different from the third incident where the woman painfully woke up to the reality that once an abuser, always an abuser.

It has been 30 years since I saw the Eden College teacher get beaten black and blue by her husband in front of her daughter. A lot has changed. Colour TV is now available even at slums.

And yet, on some important matters, how little has changed!

The optimist in me would get excited in the statistics that 80 percent of the divorces in Dhaka last year were initiated by women — signalling that at least some women are realising that enough is enough. But I know I will be a fool to think that they are the majority. If Rumana Monzur too had shown the courage a little earlier, probably — just probably — her eyes would not have been ruptured to the point of going blind.

Hers was an extreme case, perhaps, and the ‘shobhbhyo shomaj’, as one newspaper called it, has been stunned by the sheer brutality of the crime. But this very ‘shobhbhyo shomaj’ would regularly pressurise the woman to ‘compromise’ (maniye cholo) in the other not so brutal (to-be-more-brutal) cases.

It took a monster to bite the nose off his wife to wake us up to the reality that we have a very serious problem in our society. But in all likelihood this culture of silence and ‘maniye chola’ will continue — sometimes for the children, sometimes for the society.

But how long? How long will it take us to realise that staying in an abusive relationship is more harmful to the children than not staying in it? How many slaps will it take before we realise that we have a problem here that will not go away unless we take an initiative?

Yes, I am talking to you — you, the parents of the abused daughter, who think that looking the other way would make the problem go away. I am talking to you, the patient wives, who think these ‘little incidents’ of the ‘hot tempered’ husbands must be ignored for the sake of a peaceful coexistence.

All you people — take a cold, hard look at the battered and brutalised face of Rumana Monzur and ask yourselves — whose face are you saving?

Shhhh….don’t answer. Mum’s the word.

Losing the plot with Meherjaan

asifsaleh — Fri, 28 Jan 2011 15:02:48 +0000

PUBLISHED IN bdnews24.com

Meherjaan movie poster

There are times when in the middle of posturing and profiling, we lose sight of the big picture. Arguing for a ban on the movie Meherjaan is one such moment. Those who were asking for a ban, or who are happy that its distributors have pulled down the curtain on the film, forget that a very dangerous precedence is being set — tow the line of an ‘acceptable’ narrative in your creative pursuit or perish.

Of course, I had problems with the film’s narrative that portrayed a feel-good image of the war. But I have been stunned with the sheer ferocity of the criticism the film received. I had the chance to see an earlier cut of Meherjaan six months ago with a lot of expectation, only to be disappointed by the script and the absurdity of its plot line. A film that campaigns on its political background — can it claim to be an apolitical love story when faced with criticism?

But I thought this was the beginning of a healthy exchange. I thought it was the beginning of the clash of storytelling between two generations — one that was too emotionally close to the War to accept any other narrative of the story and the one for whom the research of the War was done through interviews and books. It is foolish to dismiss either of these narratives as both were relevant. But it was important to keep the space open for debate to get a semblance of balance on both sides.

I was looking forward to a rational debate on substance, heated discussions on the history, and in the end a populace that has more clarity on our War through the discourse. Instead, what we saw, as it all too frequently happens in Bangladesh, was a debate that quickly descended into the personal territory. What’s the director’s family background? What was the hidden agenda? Why was the film released now? And most alarmingly, how did the Censor Board release this film?

Why? Why such personalisation and vilification when there is plenty to criticise on the substance of the film?

Those who asked this question were also put into a bracket with some colourful labels – “Engreji blogwala”, “bidesh ferot”, “out of touch”, “personally benefited”. This is not the first time the progressive camp reacted with such vitriol when faced with such ‘nuisance factors’. I recall how Maqsudul Huq Maq of the band Feedback was castigated, vilified and eventually blacklisted in BTV in the late ‘90s for his experimentation with Tagore songs.

Still for a lot of people, the strong reaction against Meherjaan could be put into proper context. The common narrative of the War is not established on firmer ground yet, some said — thanks to many distortions in the past 35 years. There was nervousness about a counter narrative. “We haven’t had a closure yet”. “We are not ready for a counter narrative yet”.

Or so we are told.

Having accepted that, why do we not leave it up to the public to decide rather than trying to influence what it can or cannot see?

Too often, we underestimate the power of the average citizens in deciding what they want to accept and reject. Quite in contrast to existing norms, Tareque and Catherine Masud in the last few weeks have taken their latest film ‘Runway’ to the mass all around the country. In theatres after theatres in different cities, packed audience came and watched the film based on a somewhat controversial topic of the rise of religious extremism in Bangladesh. He took it to places where it mattered and left it upon the audience to judge his film. The results were surprising. The audience engaged in lively debates after the show and the director came away with an array of discourses – some expected and some not so expected — which, I believe, will only make his future works stronger. The lesson therefore is that it is extremely patronising to ‘shield’ the public from the so-called ‘incorrect’ narratives. Show it to as many people as possible and let the public decide what is right and what is wrong.

Unfortunately, that hasn’t happened with Meherjaan. It couldn’t even be shown in Dhaka for more than a week. In spite of sell out crowds, the distributor pulled the film off the screen; the real reason behind the pull out is yet to be known but if some news reports are to be believed, the withdrawal of the censor certificate is likely to follow.

This will no doubt make some of those from the “progressive camp”, who were asking for the ban and those who originally questioned its censor certificate, happy. But losers will be those who truly want an open space for creative exploration and who want an open space for debate without questioning each others’ agenda.

The losers will be those who could have hoped for a better film on 1971 in future by doing an honest critic of Meherjaan, which will now be impossible as it gains martyrdom.

The tragedy is not that film’s life was cut short. Real tragedy is that the intense reaction and subsequent exchanges could have provoked the younger generation to search for the real history of the War and its relevance. Now it’s a missed opportunity.

“In these transition times, we are all fighting for the soul of our country we live”, said Rahul Bose, Bollywood’s thinking actor, at an event in Dhaka for the Asian Women’s University last week.

Indeed we are. However, among all the posturing and internal politic, those of us, who claim to be from the progressive liberal camp in this country, forget what kind of soul we aspire to have for our nation. Will this soul be about creativity, openness and fairness or will this be about close mindedness, banning of views that we don’t like, and censorship?

Judging from the reactions that I hear that Tareque and Catherine Masud got in their brilliant attempt to take the film to all over Bangladesh, I suspect it’s the former. Ironically, in the case of Meherjaan, however, we are setting a terrible precedence of intolerance with the vilification of a creative pursuit and celebration of its ‘withdrawal’. This, I am afraid, will return and haunt us for a long time to come.

Does this mean I am advocating to allow anything and everything under the sun in the name of freedom of speech? Surely not. Freedom comes with responsibilities. Surely Rubaiat Hossain, having access to the power and privilege, due to her family connection, could have showed more maturity, restraint and care in the portrayal of the war and particularly the women victims of the war. She deserves some of the criticism she is getting on the substance of the movie. But the movie by all account deserves to be shown.

There is still time. Let’s criticise the film to pieces. But let us protest any restriction in showing the film — be it official or unofficial. Even if we hate the film, let us protest any attempt on censorship. Let us allow our people to make up their own minds about the film by letting them go and see it. More importantly in this process, let us aspire to make a better film – much better than Meherjaan – that captures the true essence of our great Liberation War.

Endless grief but no accountability

asifsaleh — Sat, 31 Jul 2010 21:55:35 +0000

published July 30, Daily Star

Photo: APAsif Saleh

AFTER the recent Nimtoli fire, someone on the Unheard Voices blog commented: “Look at the reaction after the fire, endless grief but no demand for accountability from the citizens.” The fire truck came to Nimtoli but quickly ran out of water and had to go back through the narrow alleys and get water again. A few of the firefighters tried desperately with their limited resources.

Only a few weeks after the worst fire tragedy in Bangladesh that highlighted the resource constraint of our public safety organisation, the budget for fire service was cut. There was not a word anywhere. We were still busy grieving without asking the right question.

Who is accountable? How can we do better in response? How can we get to the bottom of it? No questions asked. We have become a country of fatalists. This was in our fate. So let’s just move on.

Today is the birth anniversary of Nurul Islam, the Gonotontri party leader who was burnt to death along with his son in a mysterious fire incident — another two people whose death remains unaccounted for.

A few months ago, his daughter Moutushi Islam showed us a documentary on the progress of investigation (or the lack of it) at Shahid Minar. The Shahid Minar was filled with people watching the documentary with tears in their eyes.

In their grief, they all probably thought this was a pointless exercise. Nothing will change, nothing will matter. What’s the point in demanding? Islam’s family and friends have has made sure that the demand for justice remained. Asking the right question is the first step and the most important step in this process.

So what are the right questions in this case?

-After the initial PDB report that concluded that it was not a short circuit, a “curious” follow-up report was released that contained misleading and erroneous findings. The MD of PDB himself was not aware of the second report. This suggests that some vested interest group has been trying to tamper with the investigation. However, there seems to be no clear effort to identify who influenced PDB to come up with the erroneous second report.

-Nurul Islam was called back to Dhaka on that fateful night by a trusted associate based on a false newspaper report — however, there was no investigation or interrogation regarding the source of this false report. Why?

-The issue of broken key door and bent window grill does not seem to have been taken seriously during the investigation. Why?

-This case has been listed as a “sensational case” but still there has been very little progress in the past 20 months. Why?

-There was no proper forensic analysis done — some chemical analysts were brought in, but no formal report ever came out. Why?

-There is repeated effort to try to conclude that it was a short circuit despite the fact that there is clear evidence to the contrary. Why?

A few months ago an inexplicable series of incidents took away the life a young man, an acquaintance of mine, in a fire. The police investigation team (which does not have a proper forensic team) was clueless and termed it a “short circuit.” The affluent family brought in a forensic expert from Singapore and the explanation was found in only a matter of days. It was not a short circuit. The family mourned, but they were at peace.

Nurul Islam’s family is not affluent. Nurul Islam spent all his life fighting for the rights of the workers. They cannot bring in a specialist from abroad. But the government can. Until we have built the expertise, can we not take help of outsiders to build our capacity? Until we build the capacity, can we not at least take the help for at least the most sensational cases?

Or is justice in this country for those who can afford it? Or are we going to remain a nation of fatalists who think if it was in our fate, then nothing could have been done about it and so no investigation is needed.

Enough of events and activities, we now need to demand results and outcomes. The trial of war criminals is ensuing. The process of righting the wrongs has started. Let’s not stop there.

Asif Saleh is the founder of Drishtipat, a social rights organisation.

Burning Inside

asifsaleh — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 22:07:34 +0000

‘গরিবের প্রানের কোনো মুল্য নাই এই দেশে’, (There is no worth for poor people in this country) says the Biriwala in front of Dhaka Medical College.

I just returned from the burn unit of Dhaka Medical College. People are still trying to figure out there what just happened. The roads were too congested and small for the fire trucks to go in. Once they were in, pretty soon the water ran out and so they had to go back and get water again. In the process, more than 100 lives were in flames — just like that. By the time I went this morning, most of the bodies were dispatched to the morgue. I went in to the unit of the not so seriously injured ones at first.

As it happens in Dhaka medical college, most of these emergency patients don’t have any bed in the first place. They are either in the lobby and the not so serious ones typically are in the floor. But it did not seem that way yesterday with the serious ones lying in the floor bed as well. A man, half burnt, lying in pain, a mother sitting with his young son with burnt hands, father carrying his 7 year old with burnt legs and promising him what he would bring him from the store when he gets better. Most patients, however, are blankly staring not sure what has hit them. A few journalists are reporting. They are also tired from reporting, I guess. The nurses could barely keep their eyes open. I slowly walk towards the serious injuries — or attempt to move there and I can’t.

Driving down in the city, you can not tell that such a crisis has hit. Turned on the radio and DJ is saying ‘মন খারাপ করা চলবে না, নতুন দিন, নতুন সম্ভাবনা ‘. (We can not lose heart, new day brings new possibilities) These people were invisible. They remain invisible and what difference does it make whether they go in 100s or 1000s.

As Dhaka’s infrastructure starts crumbling, these are early indicators of perhaps an impending disaster. The city has grown many folds but very little money has gone into the service sector to match the requirement. The fire brigade, the public hospitals have little money to cope with the demand of the times. These discussions are barely in the public discourse. Because people who are receiving the brunt of these ‘accidents’, have little say in this discourse. But in all likelihood, as tomorrow comes, if tomorrow comes, we will forget about it and move on to the next disaster. Just like we have moved on from the accident that struck the day before — the collapse of the unapproved 5 storied building (set up on a low lying land without proper foundation ) on to the shanties next door killing another 25 odd people or better yet, we will pretend that these did not even happen and submerge ourselves on to the world cup fever in a few days. If the size and amount of Brazil-Argentina flags on the roof tops of Dhaka is any indicator, that is the more likely thing to happen.

We are a ‘resilient’ nation after all.

The radio has moved on to advertisement. The tag line of a local beauty parlour says — ‘beautiful you, beautiful bangladesh’. Beautiful us, indeed.

I keep wondering about the time 25 years ago when an university dorm (Jagannath Hall) collapsed killing and injuring many students. That’s when we had one TV channel where there were appeal for blood. The whole city came together to respond. I remember New York after 9/11 or London after 7/7 and the people in those cities responded together. Today’s Dhaka is a lot more fragmented — just like the TV audience who has options of 80 channels. Volunteering has become certificate oriented. I doubt the city will even care.

The burn victims and the relatives looked lost. Some going out to the store to get water. Some desperately trying to use the hand fan to make the victims feel better. Its going to be 32 degree centigrade tonight. There is no fans for these victims. The atmosphere inside is not for the faint hearted for sure. We will, of course, let the resource crunched government deal with these problems, of course, forfeiting our collective responsibility. We will go on with our lives — attending the seminars, the cafes, the protibad shobhas. “ভাবী, যা ব্যস্ত !! আর বলবেন না !”

Or May be not. May be we will respond differently.

May be, those of us, who are in Dhaka, could stop for a couple of hours and take a trip down Dhaka Medical College (where we never go) and take that hand fan from that mother and let her rest for a bit while we wave. Or may be we will get those two bottles of water for the young man and spare his brother a little bit of relief for a bit. or may be we can get those toys that the father promised his child. This won’t change any thing. But may be, just may be, this will at least make these people feel a little less lonely in this heartless, cruel town.

For those of you who are not aware of the context of this, you can read here:

http://www.nationalpost.com/least+dead+over+injured+Bangladesh+fire/3108469/story.html

Innovation Begins at Home

asifsaleh — Wed, 28 Apr 2010 15:21:42 +0000

Published in Bangladesh Brand Forum Anniversary issue:

At 1.30 AM the night before the PM was going to launch the Digital Innovation Fair, an email reached my inbox:

‘I just came back from Novo theatre, the venue for the Fair. Even at midnight, it was buzzing with people from many ministries setting up their stalls for the 4^th. I cannot recall a more energetic group of government people up and down the hierarchy all single-mindedly focused on showcasing multi-dimensional service deliveries. Each stall has become a pride and joy of a government agency. The energy was unmistakable, infectious really. ‘

On the opening day, I reached the fair an hour early partially to check out the atmosphere. The email from the fellow organizer sounded a tad exaggerated. These are government bureaucrats after all – can this really be true? I ran into Dr. Ananya Raihan, who has been working on popularizing the use of technology in the development sector for years. His eyes were glowing. ‘These are dream come true for us. For so many years we hosted such fairs from the private sector and wondered aloud if the government will ever come with us and here we have almost all the ministries showcasing their innovation in e-service delivery’. As I walked by the stalls amid hundreds of visitors I had to pinch myself as well – is that really the Joint Secretary who is calling the young student and excitedly explaining their ministry’s project? Is that really the Bangladesh Bank Governor proudly talking to his junior staff about the funky interior of their stall? How was all this possible?

Even two months ago, this seemed like a distant reality. At one of the organizing meetings for the fair the urgency of the top secretaries were evident. The rallying cry in the meeting was – “Every one must participate”. Clear instructions were given that showing a static website for the ministry was not good enough. All the ministries had to show case a service that they have introduced to reduce the hassles people face in their every day life in Bangladesh. To introduce a healthy competition, Access to Information team at the Prime Minister’s Office announced that the top innovative ministries will be rewarded by public voting and a jury board at the fair. The last two months saw a spirited sprint at the finish by all the participating ministries. Days before the show the focal point of Home Ministry called with excitement to say that they had received the machines for developing machine-readable passports, and they wanted to prepare a passport for the Hon’ble PM as she walked by the stall. Communications Ministry wanted to utilize the venue to inaugurate railway ticket purchase using mobile phones. Expat Welfare wanted to prepare smart cards for five migrant workers in front of the PM. In the last seven days before the opening, the number of entries in the Fair escalated beyond belief.

Although the last minute entries escalated to brink of mismanagement, we, the organizers, breathed a sigh of relief. The first mission for the fair had been accomplished. The public sector had been energized to go beyond the call of their duty to be innovative in providing service at the doorsteps of people. The second part of the challenge was to get citizens to come to the fair and see it – this was after all a government sponsored fair. Unlike the cash rich private sector, we hardly had money for promotion. To add to the crisis, an abstract ad created by an agency did not fly with the seniors. Two days before the show, a self taught rookie designer was brought in to the office in the afternoon. ‘You have four hours to prepare the promo and this is the brief’, he was told. By 9 PM, the promo was ready. After the necessary approval, the BTV DG waited while our media men ran with the CD to hand deliver. The ad started to air from 11 PM that night. Opinion pieces were out in the paper and the talk shows went all ‘Digital’. To our pleasant surprise, on Friday, March 5^th, the first full day of the fair, people came to the fair in droves. There were students, professionals, people — young to middle aged — who came to see what the government offered for them.

Indeed, it was refreshing to visit from stall to stall and to watch officers share their success stories with the citizens — story of Shahjalal University registering students via sms application at Ministry of education, a story of ‘Digital Purjee’ using which the life of the average sugar cane farmers was simplified at the ministry of industry, the video conferencing of health specialists at the health ministry, buying rail ticket via SMS at the ministry of communication, the disaster warning through mobile at the ministry of disaster recovery, special agricultural information centre by the ministry of agriculture and lastly the custom house which has been automated lately – there were over 200 stories like this. It was an extra ordinary day for any technology and development enthusiasts who simultaneously got to ask high officials direct questions at seminars at a side room. I bumped into Prof Zafar Iqbal who was visibly elated at the end of the fair –‘the body language of government officers has changed’, he said. The last seminar of the fair was on branding Bangladesh abroad where the opinion was unanimous that there was a perception problem. Branding comes with a promise of quality and Bangladesh will need to deliver if it wants to build a brand.

Even though Digital Bangladesh will mean different things to different people, one thing that will be common is that it will not only need to deliver on its promise abroad but it will also need to deliver meaningful services for the common citizens to make their lives easier, less expensive and more productive. Lessons for us from the fair: healthy competition works, the right combination of carrots and sticks can work wonder to mobilize government officers, innovation can come from places least expected and lastly a lot of people will move mountains if the catalyst relinquishes credit.

A mobile paradigm for service delivery

asifsaleh — Sun, 28 Mar 2010 15:08:00 +0000

Friday, March 5, 2010

IN a resource-starved country like Bangladesh, where almost forty percent of the population earns less than a dollar a day, providing access via desktop solutions is untenable. On the other hand, the growth in mobile industry in the past decade and the reach of mobile phones in the rural areas have turned cell phones into the most accessible and affordable form of technology for the masses and an obvious choice of service delivery channel for public agencies.

As part of its agenda to build a Digital Bangladesh, the government has identified the mobile phone as a key medium of electronic service delivery to citizens. Although, mobile phones and their many technology options are already being utilised by several agencies of the government, to truly utilise its true potential, an effective and long-term partnership with the private sector is essential.

Over 33 percent of the population in this country currently has a mobile phone. With a government that is eager to give service to the neediest, and with private telecommunication firms that are eager to expand their businesses in rural Bangladesh, an effective national strategy for mobile governance and service expansion can unlock a win-win solution for both parties. Not only will it give people access to the information they truly need and save time and money in the process, by adding additional services like mobile money transaction and mobile commerce, it can also be used as a tool for economic growth. Concurrently, it can unlock a major new avenue for market expansion for mobile companies.

m-Health: Improving the delivery of health services to the majority of the citizens is a key challenge faced by the government. ICT is an enabler that can enhance the ability of the public service to adequately address service delivery backlogs, while providing citizens with a range of creative options for accessing services. Amongst the many ICT options available to the government to improve the efficiency and effectiveness of its delivery process, mobile technologies offer some exciting opportunities for a low cost, high reach service.

There is strong evidence that mobile technologies could be instrumental in addressing slow response rates, government to citizen requests and poor access to services — particularly for low-income and marginalised populations in under-serviced rural areas — which are some of the keys areas where opportunities lie. In addition, mobile technologies offer significant opportunities for improving the back-office operations of government by electronically collecting medical data of the citizens, conducting health surveys and offering emergency services. Globally, tele-health is being looked at as a growing area of opportunity for the private sector and entrepreneurs to get involved in. Bangladesh should be no exception.

m-Education: In the education sector, there has been sizable improvement in providing education-related service delivery via mobile technology. Although scattered, m-Education initiatives are currently the highest in number. Telecommunication companies are publishing exam results and an online dictionary. Other services include mobile-based English lessons, GPA 5 holders’ registration, etc. However, most of the initiatives are related to results publishing etc., and lack proper planning and direction.

The focus has recently moved from delivering exam results to sending applications to various universities via mobile phone by connecting the central board’s education database with this service. The application fee is also collected from the mobile account of Teletalk — the government service provider.

The program, currently being piloted in Shahjalal University, has generated good response, triggering government directives being sent out by the ministry of education to implement this for all universities in the country. However, opportunities are endless. Connecting the remote schools to internet via mobile broadband, providing teacher’s training material via IVR, English learning and skills training via a subscription-based model, are just a few examples.

m-Agriculture: Considering the needs and possibilities, there are not enough m-services in the area of agriculture. Major initiatives include IVR based Farmers’ Call Centre by Banglalink, Early Disaster Warning alerts by Teletalk, GP and Banglalink, and agriculture content development for tele-centres by GP etc. Language barrier and the low level of literacy among farmers may be the reasons behind such few initiatives in the area. However, the Banglalink phone line Jiggasha has been quite successful in spite of all these barriers.

Service providers working with content providers must come up with voice-activated and enabled value added services in local language and context to increase the usage of these services even more. Partnership with MoA, MoFL and other relevant ministries and entities is a must for authentic content. Content providers will play a key role in the near future by creating and managing content in Bangla.

Government institutions have the most acceptability among farmers. Yet, their services are not offered via mobile. Existing services at Tk.5 a minute are still too expensive for the farmers. It has to be made more affordable to create a real demand for this service.

m-Transactions: Only five percent of the population currently have access to formal banking. Making financing and banking accessible to as many people as possible remains a key focus for Bangladesh Bank and, as a result, the regulatory barriers are being lifted. On September 1, 2009, Bangladesh Bank approved a form of mobile banking known as digital wallet. Even though it is quite restrictive, with pilot phase set to start soon, further deregulation and clear guidelines can possibly have tremendous impact for remittance, development and SME sectors.

Providing services, both government and the ones related to livelihood, via mobile technology is not yet considered by telecommunication providers as potential profit-making opportunities. Rather it is still an extension of their CSR work. However, one only has to look internationally to see how major telecommunication players are increasingly looking at converting the mobile phone into a tool to access a wide array of services and information and, in effect, creating very profitable and sustainable business models.

We can see M-Pesa, the mobile payment company that has made dramatic changes in money transaction, bill payment, small businesses in Kenya. In agriculture, for service and pricing models, we can see India’s Kisan Sanchar, a successful joint venture between Airtel and IFFCO, that provides specific agricultural information to farmers of India. Singapore now provides more than 150 government services via mobile. With the right balance of government regulation to protect its citizen, and private sector engagement in an encouraging business climate, Bangladesh too can be firmly positioned to achieve the vision 2021 of providing service to the doorsteps of the majority of its citizen.

A new start for India and Bangladesh?

asifsaleh — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 14:46:51 +0000

Published in the Guardian on 19 January 2010.

The Bangladeshi prime minister’s visit to India won only vague promises. It is time to demand a more equal relationship.

There was a sense of history at the Bangladeshi prime minister’s office on Saturday. Sheikh Hasina, in a show of strength, flanked by the top members of her government, was addressing the country’s editors and reporters. In an unprecedented White House-style press conference broadcast live on all the TV channels and radio stations, her mood was combative. She was defending the agreements she had signed in India the previous week. “Are we to let our resources remain unused forever?… The deals will fight South Asia’s common enemy – poverty,” she said, trying to defuse opposition to the deals.

Suddenly India is all over the airwaves in Bangladesh. (The visiting Indian cricket captain has created his own controversy by calling the Bangladeshcricket team “ordinary”.) Civil society, too, has rounded up experts for discussions on the prime minister’s visit to India. Talkshows and blogs are deluged with comments, with listeners calling in. But if you switch to the Indian media, the trip gets very limited airtime and print space. Even during the visit, the news hardly made the front pages. This difference in media treatment underlines the relationship between India and Bangladesh. And this is reflected on the policy level – India reacts with indifference and apathy when Bangladesh reaches out, and concerns and accusations when Bangladesh plays tough.

In spite of this lack of attention in India, how will the people of Bangladesh view this trip and the ensuing relationship? If it translates into more investment and economic activity, and ultimately jobs and income, that will surely be welcomed. But if it does nothing to remove the threats of upstream dam projects to local rivers and ecosystems or to stop the killing of civilians by Indian paramilitary forces at the border, while the trade imbalance between the country continues in India’s favour and the security rhetoric continues to reflect Indian perceptions and prejudices and not Bangladeshi reality, there will be a heavy political price to pay.

Can India afford to take that chance? Hardly. Over her first year in power, Hasina has gone out of her way, taking enormous political risks, to address India’s concern on security matters. Her party won three-quarters of the parliamentary seats, but she has already spent some of this political capital on India. And yet, if this visit was any indication, India has not reciprocated. There are genuine concerns in Bangladesh about the impact of India’s proposed Tipaimukh Dam, due to be built within 100km of Bangladesh’s north-eastern border, and the sharing of water from the Teesta river. Indian positions on either issue have hardly changed. The developments in the coming months will be crucial to assess if this is indeed a new start to Indo-Bangla relationship, as some analysts have argued.

What are the chances that India will move from its entrenched position on these issues? More importantly, is there any basis for Bangladesh expecting the relationship’s dynamics to change dramatically? Is it enough to trust the Indian government when it says no harm will come to Bangladesh? Has this worked in any unequal relationships between states?

Of course it hasn’t. And it won’t either in Bangladesh’s case unless it applies more leverage at the negotiation table. For that to happen, Bangladesh’s policymakers need to start thinking of the “China card”. Bangladesh has recently attracted investment attention from China’s private sector. It wouldn’t hurt to extend the relationship on the state level to advance some key strategic objectives. Both Pakistan and Sri Lanka have recently built sea ports using China’s assistance. Bangladesh too can explore options on building deep sea ports using China’s assistance.

As a friend of mine, a professor of international political economy, put it: “If India wants to treat Bangladeshis as equals I am all for integration. If we are going to be fenced in like rats (or Palestinians) in a context where India will clearly still use our territory as its market and for access routes (exactly like Israel), as a sovereign country we should explore how to change the balance of power in the region.”

It may be time for us to achieve far more concrete promises addressing our concerns from future India visits by our PMs. As I write this, India, the top cricketing nation, is playing Bangladesh, the bottom-ranked but lately resurgent test-playing country. Against the backdrop of the comment by the Indian captain that Bangladesh is an ordinary side, the dismal performance of their overconfident side on the first day will seem particularly sweet to Bangladeshis. We can only hope the regional importance of Bangladesh is not similarly underestimated.

The ‘Helpers’ of Our Lives

asifsaleh — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 22:00:07 +0000

Published Oct, 2009 in Daily Star Magazine

Despite the apparently minor tasks they perform, domestic workers are an important part of our lives. Photo: Zahedul I Khan

I have moved back to Bangladesh recently after spending 19 years abroad. In the process of reintegration to the society, I have been amazed to see how much it has changed. I compare my teenage years with those of a teenager today and I find youngsters are so much more globalised, open to new ideas, and hungry for success.

However, there are certain things that have remained the same. Our attitude towards our domestic help have changed very little. Even though, we, the urbanites, spend a major chunk of our time agonising over our ‘kajer loks’, the issue of our treatment towards them still remains a taboo. Would I be really exaggerating if I say even though I had a full time stay-at-home mother, my life has been surrounded by domestic helps? Would it be any different a story for any of you who are reading this? Are they just our employees, or as people who share our private lives, they are a little more than that? I grapple with this issue while introducing my daughter to the domestic helps whom she calls ‘helpers’.

This write up is an ode to the invisible helpers who helped me become what I am.

My first orientation to the concept of domestic help was through Jainal who came from Bogra at the age of eight after losing his father. My mother employed him so that he could play with me and I was not bored in the afternoon. Jainal was an instant hit among our friends with his sharpness and athleticism. My brother and sister started teaching him during the time when President Zia made it compulsory for all SSC candidates to teach an elder illiterate. He was taken in for a ‘viva’ and he did so well that pretty soon all of our relatives and friends started taking him as their case study. Jainal moved on after a few years. He eloped with our chef 10 years older than him, and after a few years in wilderness came back to us looking for a job. His wish was granted in no time. Jainal runs a successful rental car company now and provides me with car service every time I need one in no time.

Much before Jainal there was Abdul bhai who taught me driving in between my trips to different tutors in Dhaka. Abdul bhai also has been with us since he was eight. His parents passed away and he came to our family in Kaptai. My mother can’t remember who brought him to us. But he graduated from a house help to chef, and then from a chef to in-house driver in a few years. Since then, through thick and thin, he has remained with us — now for 40 long years. My mother is as worried about his retirement plan as she is with hers. When my father died, Abdul bhai cried more than any body else. Till date, in his spare time he goes to his graveyard and makes sure that it’s clean and tidy.

Have you ever wondered what’s the story behind so many of the domestic helps being referred to by their son’s name?

I am wondering as I am thinking about Harun-er ma (Harun’s mother). We never asked her real name. But she was the cook-in-chief at our house for the longest time. When my sister had a baby, she asked Harun-er ma whether she wanted to come to the US to help her out. She was ready instantly. For the next five years, she took care of my nephews while my sister was at work peacefully. When I visited her there, she would often ask me to write a letter to Harun on behalf of her. I remember the indignation of a longing mother asking her child to be responsible. Harun was of my age and so Harun-er ma always had a special corner for me. After my return to Bangladesh 13 years later, Harun-er ma came to see me with tears in her eyes. Harun passed away due to some complication after a surgery. I was stunned. Harun-er ma has told my mother that she wants to cook in my house because that would make her feel that Harun is close to her. She starts work next month.

The person who gets the most emotion out of my mother still, however, is Aklima. Aklima stayed at our place for eight years. But she was notorious for her temper. She would fight with a karai if she could when she was in a bad mood, which would happen quite often. But she was a grand cook and someone my mother could rely on when she was away. She would be bitter and angry one moment, and the very next moment would be laughing away. One of her weekly rituals was to fight with my mother and make her mad as hell. We never could figure out why my mother employed a woman who made her so angry. Eventually one day it was a little too much for my mother and she let her go after a bitter fight. Aklima was diagnosed with breast cancer a year after she left our house. My mother quietly used to send her money for her treatment. She mellowed down a lot and eventually passed away only in her thirties, and talked about my mother till her dying days. Till date my mother fondly remembers her service.

When I remember these people and their stories, I often wonder about the stories of abuse I read in the paper. Only a few days ago I went to a child domestic worker drop-in center run by Ain O Salish Kendro and supported by Save the Children and Drishtipat. There I met many of these young Jainals, Abduls and Aklimas. They were trying to learn new skills and get education so that they could climb on the mobility ladder. I was fascinated talking to them. When I read their profiles, it all seemed too familiar. Sons and daughters of landless farmers coming to Dhaka for employment and getting disconnected from their families forever.

I asked the supervisor if they talk about any kind of abuse in their ‘host family’.
“All the time”, she replied.
“Do you not do anything about it?”, I asked.

“If I do anything, they will stop sending them over to the drop-in centre. I only alert people when their complaints become extreme and unbearable”.

“What kind of complaints do you get?”
“Physical abuse by the house head, sexual abuses by the young brothers-in-law of the family — it’s of all kinds. When I talk to them, they often deny it and get very defensive.”

My jaw dropped, and it explained after all these years why the middle class is still afraid to talk about this issue. We have moved ahead so much in our journey as an independent country. We take pride in the progress and liberalisation of our society. But when are we going to look at these skeletons in our closet? Too often we dehumanise our domestic helpers so that we can rationalise our treatment to them. But there lies a Jainal, Aklima, Abdul and Harun-er ma in all our houses.

Can we start with humanising them in our own houses first?

Asif Saleh is the founder of Drishtipat, a social and human rights organisation which is running a campaign for dignity and education for child domestic workers.

‘We are poor, but are we not human?’

asifsaleh — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 10:46:42 +0000

Published in the Daily Star on 24 March 2009.

Asif Saleh and Rumi Ahmed
Unattended and uncared for.

Every Saturday our prime minister speaks directly to the common people for a few hours and hears their grievances, and later asks the relevant ministry to take action on these matters.

Yesterday was one such day. I wasn’t there. But if I were, what would I tell the PM?

I would have told her about the inhuman barbarity of some of those people known as “internee doctors” of Dhaka Medical College (DMC). They are the fresh medical graduates who work for junior house physicians in different departments of the hospital. Internee session is the period when a student becomes a doctor. They manage patients under supervision of senior house physicians.

For this work they get paid by our government — a decent salary with free housing and heavily subsidised meals. After getting their education, subsidised by the tax payers’ money, at close to no fees, their job, as internees is to get some practical knowledge — successful completion of which lets them obtain physician license in Bangladesh.

Boy, but what a service they are giving their patients! What was done at DMC on March 20-21 by a group of thugs is so inhumane and barbaric that it’s painful to realise that this is done by our own countrymen to their own people. To understand this somewhat complex story, I will use time-lines below put together from various news reports.

Friday 2:30pm: A 30-year old man, injured after being hit by a falling roof of a shopping centre, was brought to DMC immediately.

Around 6pm: The patient dies after being left unattended after admission for 30 minutes at the emergency. The relatives blame the attending doctor for negligence and misbehave.

9pm: Internee doctors refuse to issue a death certificate and hand over the body to the relatives.

11pm: One of the elder relatives asks for forgiveness for the misbehaviour and requests the body to be handed over.

Saturday midnight: The internee doctors call a strike, confine the director of DMC and ask for his resignation. The internees force staff to block the entrance to the emergency. They bang tables and shout abuse at the director. As demanded by the junior doctors, the confined DMC director files a case against the dead patient’s relatives.

1am: The agitating doctors call the widow who lost her husband just 6 hours earlier in an accident and her younger brother under the excuse of negotiation for handing over the body. As they step in the hospital, they are manhandled and handed over to Shahbagh police. The wife had her 7-month old child in her arms while being arrested.

2am: Emergency patients are stranded as the doctors shout out abuse. One of them, a pregnant woman, was seen lying unattended while her relatives were stuck on the other side of the blocked entrance. Relatives of patients are stuck inside the hospital and some of them unable to get medicine from outside.

9am: Doctors continue their “strike” even after the demands were met. The health advisor and the health minister arrive at the scene and request the emergency gates to be opened.

10.30am: The doctors open the emergency gate at this request, but the strike continues. They demand the resignation of the director.

11am: The relatives and neighbours of the deceased protest the arrest of the wife and block roads in Rampura for one hour.

Noon: The wife of the deceased released by police after 12 hours, pending her appearance in court, on account of the baby.

2pm: The doctors call off the strike and release the dead body. Over 2,000 patients, a good many of them critical, refused treatment during the 14 hour strike.

One of the relatives says to a TV camera: ”I know we are poor, but are we not human?”

Dear Prime Minister,

I want to ask you too: Are they not human? While my relatives and yours get treated at the lavish Square and United Hospital under the best care, do these citizens of Bangladesh not deserve at least the most basic care — being attended by a doctor at an emergency? While all of the privileged can go to private hospitals, DMC remains the only hospital with an emergency outlet in Dhaka for treating major trauma from road accidents and burn injuries.

Why do these thugs get sweet talked by the health minister in spite of committing such acts and how can we let this go on in such a major institute of ours?

Dear PM, can I ask you to take a stand for the little people who voted for you hoping for a change?

Can I ask you to make sure these forty odd doctors who committed such thuggeries pay a price for the gross abuse of trust and professionalism?

Internee doctors are not essential to run day to day business of the hospital. There is a huge surplus of senior house physicians working in all departments and these doctors could have managed the hospital easily during the internees strike. But these doctors were forcing others not to work and was locking down departments. While strikes may be legal, shutting down the hospital preventing others from rendering service is absolutely immoral.

Dear PM, we want you to do the right thing and not tolerate such act of violence.

Dear PM, perhaps I should be writing this letter to the health minister. But it’s early days. You need to know the trend and you need to ask where the muscle powers of these people are coming from. You need to ask what’s going on in the medical colleges in the name of swadhinota chikitshok porishad (Shachip) the organization of doctors affiliated with your party.

I want to know from all of my readers – how long will we continue to expect our good citizens to remain calm and quiet in the face of such gross injustice in their daily lives? How many lives need to be lost before their backs hit the wall and they strike back?

And those of you who were responsible for sending a grieving widow and her 7 month old infant son to jail because her relatives hurt your big, fat ego, I pray to Allah that you get back what you deserve.

But I also fearfully think that ‘you’ are also ‘we.’ These internees are also our brothers, sisters and children. As we question how it was possible for some BDR soldiers to commit the heinous murders, the answer lies in the internee incidents as well. As a nation, we are increasingly resorting to violent, inhuman act to make our point. For now, I can only pray to Allah for justice in after life because in this mortal life there is no justice for the poor in Bangladesh.