Mursalin Kabir, a child of only 11 years, attended three admission tests in the first two weeks of January. After completing his Primary School Completion exam from a primary level kindergarten school, Mursalin was trying to get admission in grade six of a good secondary school. Unfortunately, he did not make it. His pale face, tired and disappointed look, highly unusual for a boy of such a tender age, is a tell-tale sign ofthe psychological torment and pressure he went through in the past couple of weeks. He didn't even agree to talk to us.

Mursalin's father Arman Kabir says, "There are only three well-regarded secondary schools in my neighbourhood in Uttara. But my son did not qualify in the admission tests where at least 75 students compete for every seat. This is why I enrolled him in this school although it's very expensive and not government-approved."

Mursalin is not alone. This year, this unauthorised secondary school in Uttara (whose name will not be disclosed to prevent any undue attacks on the institution) has admitted 550 students in grade six. Like Arman Kabir, many parents are opting for unauthorised schools after finding no place for their children in government-approved ones.

However, Bangladesh Education Statistics 2016 tells a different story. According to the report, the teacher-student ratio in the secondary level is 1:41 which indicates that there are sufficient secondary schools in the country. However, this ratio is misleading. It does not reveal the crisis faced by the country's secondary level students in densely populated cities like Dhaka. 

In Dhaka, there is shortage of quality educational institutions. Moreover, there is a severe shortage of space in the recognised ones. In addition to these limitations, the number of secondary level students in Bangladesh is staggeringly high. In Dhaka city alone, the number of secondary level students is 199,892,whereas there are only 450 government approved secondary level schools for almost two hundred thousand students. Such a dearth of recognised educational institutions creates extreme competition in school admission exams every year. These admission exams ensure that only a few lucky students with marginally higher scores will have the chance to get admitted to approved institutions.

On the other hand, most of the unauthorised schools enrol students without any prior admission exam. They are also flexible in that they enrol students who have a poorer academic performance. Many of these schools publish flashy advertisements promising guaranteed A+ for "inattentive"students.

Special care and residential facilities for derailed students, which is almost absent in mainstream institutions, is also a major marketing factor of these schools. Lured by these advertisements and rejected by recognised schools, thousands of parents enrol their children in unauthorised schools. Rozina Begum, mother of four children and the wife of an expat worker, had to admit her eldest son Shahinul Islam in one such unauthorised, residential school.

"My neighbours and relatives used to rebuke me for my spirit. I loved to organise cricket and badminton tournaments and I used to lead the youngsters of our neighbourhood in all these activities," shares Shahin. What Shahin didn't like at all is the idea of going to school regularly. Time and again, Shahin's school teachers from when he was studying in a government boy's school, reported his absence in the classroom to his mother. However, when Shahin's school teacher spotted him smoking cigarettes with his friends in the school playground, Shahin was expelled. He was in grade seven.

Instructed by her husband living in Saudi Arabia, Rozina admitted their son to a madrasa. However, Shahin could not cope with the strict rules and unfamiliar syllabus of the madrasa.

Finally, Rozina enrolled him in an unauthorised residential school in Uttara. "My son was about to go astray. I admitted him here so that he can be attentive and learn discipline by staying in a hostel. But the expenses are too high. I am struggling to afford his tuition, coaching and hostel fees," explains Rozina. "If I make a late payment, the school authority threatens to expel my son," she adds.

Due to the absence of monitoring by the government, most of these unauthorised schools have commoditised education to an extreme level. Many have affiliated coaching centres where they force students to study all the subjects in the name of improving their academic performances. For instance, parents like Rozina and Arman have to pay BDT 8,000–10,000 monthly just for the coaching centre. The hostel and tuition fees are also far higher than any government-approved institution. For her son's education, Rozina has to pay BDT 30,000 every month. On the other hand, before enrolling his son, Arman had to pay three months' tuition, as well as coaching and hostel fees in advance. This set him back around BDT 100,000. "The school authority forced us to buy everything from the school, from uniforms to notebooks, pens and school bags. The expenditure here, I think, is a hundred times more than a government school," shares Arman.

However, schools where Mursalin and Shahin study are not the only ones exploiting helpless parents and students. According to an unofficial study conducted by the students of the Institute of Education and Research, there are at least 1,300 unauthorised secondary schools in Dhaka, which is three times more than the number of authorised secondary schools.

When asked about such exorbitant fees, one of the directors of an unauthorised school argues, "Government-approved schools receive funds and resources from the government, which we don't. We have to ensure better facilities and care for our students because we get less meritorious students. We also have to unofficially pay approved schools so that they register our students as their own in public exams." His statement reveals a misconduct which has become a common practice among many secondary level educational institutions. Through an external category, education boards allow an approved school to register a board exam candidate who is physically challenged or too impoverished to continue regular academic activities. Unauthorised schools take advantage of this provision.

Despite the burgeoning of these unauthorised institutions and their widespread corruption, none of the relevant government offices have any information on them. According to Shahidul Khabir Chowdhury, Secretary, Board of Intermediate and Secondary Education, Dhaka, "The schools you are talking about do not exist in our papers." The same was reiterated by the officials of the Directorate of Secondary and Higher Education (DSHE) and Bangladesh Bureau of Educational Information and Statistics. Such indifference has given unrestricted opportunity for people who want to make fortune by exploiting parents and students. 

To stop such malpractice and exploitation, Dr Sadhon Kumar Biswas, former Deputy Director of DSHE and author of the book "Laws, Rules and Codes on Bangladesh's Secondary Level Educational Institutions", recommends a detailed survey on unauthorised institutions. "Unauthorised schools flourished due to the growing demand from a growing number of students. It will not be wise to shut down all these schools as thousands of people are relying on them. Again, keeping them beyond the purview of government monitoring by refusing their existence will also be self-destructive," says Dr Biswas.

According to his suggestion, the government should conduct a two-pronged survey; one will focus on the institution's resources, administrative system and infrastructure, while the other will focus on teachers' quality, teaching-learning environment and students' performance. He argues that once the government obtains detailed information, it can recognise and rehabilitate these institutions. Until and unless Bangladesh's education offices start to track and monitor these exploitative unauthorised institutions, a vast majority of the country's students will remain hostage to corrupt practices and a second-rate teaching-learning environment.

The writer can be reached at [email protected].

How much would you pay for a pigeon? Let's rephrase that question. Would you pay to buy a pigeon at all in the first place? After all, there's plenty of hard work involved in breeding them. From providing them with filtered water and a variety of grains to hosting them in a huge space on your terrace, it's not easy.

But believe it or not, there are associations in Bangladesh involved in pigeon racing, which spend money to the tunes of lakhs behind a single bird.

The Cavendish is a champion bird from Belgium. It's sister was bought for BDT 410,000 from an auction a couple of years ago, and according to the Bangladesh Racing Pigeon Owner's Association (BRPOA), it is the highest amount any one has spent on a pigeon in the country.

Don't look surprised. It's not uncommon for fanciers—people who breed pigeons—to spend such an amount on these racing birds. In 2013, a Belgian pigeon called Usain Bolt was sold to a Chinese businessman for an astounding GBP 400,000, or around BDT 30,000,000.

“There are many factors behind the price of a pigeon,” explains Md Amdad Hossain Bhuiyan, General Secretary of the BRPOA. “You look at the number of races its mother has won and you also look at its races. When you find that its relatives have won a number of national races, the price automatically gets higher,” he adds. The Cavendish's mother had won 11 national races in Belgium and that's the reason why its price went up to BDT 400,000 during the auctions.

“Unless something very tragic takes place, you are bound to get a good return,” says Amdad. “Aside from winning races in Bangladesh, fanciers often sell the children of these high-priced birds at an even higher cost to other fanciers,” he says.

The one aspect that the purchase of The Cavendish's sister definitely highlights is the growing interest in pigeon racing in Bangladesh. What began as a mere pastime in 2004 has grown into three big clubs. Aside from the BRPOA, there is also the Bangladesh Racing Pigeon Fanciers Club (BRPFC) and the Bangladesh Racing Pigeon Entrepreneur Ltd.

Members of these clubs take part in 10 races every year, from November to March, which is considered to be the ideal time for the pigeons to compete. “In Europe, the races take place in the summer because the region is nearly frozen over in winter. For us though, it's the opposite. During summer, in the heat and amidst the rains, pigeons are likely to face more dangers,” explains Jahid Mollah, Treasurer of BRPFC.

So how do the races take place?

Each participant is required to pay a fee of BDT 100 to their respective clubs for each pigeon, after which the pigeons are carried on trucks to the race venue. The gates of the cages that the pigeons are kept in are electronically controlled so that when the buzzer is pressed, all the cages open at once, allowing a fair start.

The objective of the pigeons is to return to their respective homes or lofts as quickly as possible. Once the pigeon arrives, the timing is recorded on a digital clock. The distance from each of the lofts to the starting point is pre-measured using Google Maps and is then divided by the amount of time that the pigeon takes to cover the distance. Eventually, the pigeon with the highest velocity is deemed the winner.

“It's a well-known fact that pigeons have the ability to locate their lofts despite being thousands of kilometres away from it. Research shows that they use the earth's magnetic field, the sun and their noses to find their home,” says Jahid.

Some of the starting points include Teknaf, Chittagong, Saint Martin's Island, Chowmuhani and Mirsarai. These birds, on an average, have the ability to travel at 80 km/hr. So, if a race begins from St Martin's Island, a number of them come back to their respective homes in Dhaka within five to six hours. Their location and timing is measured with the help of a device with a chip that is fitted onto the bird's left leg.

“You feel really proud when you see your pigeon crossing seas and rivers in just a matter of hours and coming home. You know that you have trained it well,” says Jahid.

But it's not as though the same pigeon always ends up winning. There are a number of factors involved here as well. For instance, the pigeon that won last time may not necessarily be feeling well in the next race. Fanciers analyse this phenomenon by observing if there's any change in the pigeon's eating or flying habits.

And then there's the luck factor. There are times when a pigeon, despite coming close to its residence, circles around the rooftop before landing on the sensor board, which records its landing time. That way, the pigeon loses crucial seconds.

While these birds are born with a strong sense of direction, that ability needs to be honed from a young age in order for them to take part in races. It takes around five to six weeks, at least, to train a pigeon.

“After the pigeons are old enough, I send them to a place that's around 10 km away from my house. On the first day, they will take some time to find the top of my house. You will see them circling above for four to five minutes before landing,” says Jahid, while explaining the training mechanism.

“In the third week, they are taken 30 km away and by then, they know the way around quite well. After six weeks, they are generally capable of taking part in a race where they will need to cover 100 km, and as time progresses, they further expand their radius,” he adds.

The pigeons used for racing are a special kind and their origins are generally from Belgium, the Netherlands and Germany. Every year, fanciers from these countries come to Bangladesh and sell their pigeons via auction. Local auctions among the clubs also take place after each race.

“If your pigeon wins the race, you will be given BDT 20,000. During the auctions, the price for the winning bird goes up to BDT 100,000,” says Jahid.

Members of the racing clubs in Bangladesh claim that they aren't into pigeon racing just for the money. After all, it's not as though there's a lot of money in the sport in the first place. They also claim that there's no underground betting scene in this sector.

For most of them, it's a hobby. The majority of the members have been taking care of pigeons since they were in school. The clubs are places where they can go and have a good adda. They believe that pigeon rearing is an activity that the youngsters of today need to get involved in.

“There are so many teenagers doing drugs these days. They don't have a place to go for entertainment. It's a horrible cycle. Pigeon rearing helps you learn a lot of things. Firstly, it keeps you occupied. You learn discipline and how to be responsible and then, you also grow a fondness for the birds, as though they are your own children,” explains Zahed Khan, a fancier from Mohammadpur.

Mohammad Amdad Hossian Bhuiyan from the BRPOA wants to take pigeon racing to another level. He wants the government to form a pigeon racing federation just like the other sports federations of the country and ensure that Bangladesh participates in pigeon races abroad.

Only time can tell whether pigeon racing will be considered as an official sport in the country, but there's no doubt that it's an activity that is gaining popularity.

Mahi where are you? Should I come to lay flowers where you are? The way you appeared to everyone as a string of lights, you left your body just as publicly. Where did you get lost? I looked for you on the bed with whatever life force I had in me. Did you lose your way inside that big, heavy quilt? Mahi, the morning goes away, and the night follows behind it too. Where are you hiding? In that small dark room? In the land of sleep? Of course, you sleep a lot. What if I, too, silently go to that room? Would it be too cramped? Why did you go there then, before me?

You said, “roton e roton chene” (jewels recognise other jewels) and that is why I can still get your smell, and maybe you mine! You have understood by now that at this moment I do not dare as much as you, and what will not happen is what is most yearned—but my apparent discomfort does not bother you, does not worry you.

I need to accept that your intuition is acute. Listen, let me exaggerate a bit—don't you remember? We are used to somewhat supporting those who are powerful. So, you will not agree to the use of “we”? It is the rule of all rules. When have we ever accepted each other without debate? You say what you will and end it right there without forgiveness, so I will not take the risk of becoming your opponent in any way. I still plan to spend my last days with you—even if it is in some dark room.

Translated from Bengli by Zyma Islam

In college, I worked several part-time jobs. About a quarter of my waking moments were spent on these jobs, and in all honesty, often times I wish I didn't have to. Being young and free, I had plenty of other options on how to spend my time—things that were actually fun too, like hanging out with friends, or watching a movie, or going to the beach, or eating Nutella-strawberry crêpes at the local café. I certainly didn't envision spending my youth in the basement of libraries and laboratories, and yet, there I was, 20 hours a week, tired from classes, group projects, assignments and exams, wishing I was out playing in the sun, and yet, steeling myself for another few hours of work before I could go back to the dorm and maybe get some sleep. 

All that sacrifice, all that effort, all the mishaps with macro-shrimps and thousands of fish requiring feeding... for what?

For money, naturally.

Money that I then immediately blew on the stupidest things.

Like this pink monstrosity.

At the time, 19-year-old Atiqah thought the hot pink, designer, plastic money box (that reminded her so much of fat Majin Boo from Dragon Ball Z) was the funniest thing ever, and she happily handed over a chunk of her hard-earned money to the clerk in the chic boutique in San Francisco, all for a few giggles. A few hours later, she would realise that she actually had no use for it, and not knowing what to do with it, she would put the thing in the back of the closet and forget all about it.

She would then go work some more, wishing she didn't have to, and then use the earnings to go on another impulsive shopping spree, buy a lot of useless things, chuck them away, realise she didn't have anymore money, so she would go work some more, wishing she didn't have to...and the cycle repeated itself over again.

The cycle I mentioned above is unfortunately a very common one, and one that I was stuck in for years and years.

At some level, I vaguely knew my spending habits were out-of-whack and not at all aligned with what I really wanted to do with my money, and in a larger sense, with my life. I mean, I was sure there was a reason why I was working so hard and for so many hours, and I was also pretty sure the reason was not just so I could own a hot pink thing.

I then came upon a book titled Your Money or Your Life (one of the books that changed my life). The book taught me a lot of things, but one particular concept changed how I viewed money, how I earned money and how I spent money. It also cured my awful habit of impulsive shopping.

Reading the original book will give you a better understanding, but I will attempt to summarise it here.

Life energy

We all have a certain amount of time allocated to us on this planet. One day you will die—your allocation will be used up. We will call this “Life Energy”: a limited resource you have at your disposal.

Your life energy visualised

When we go to our jobs, or whatever it is we do to earn a living, we are basically trading our Life Energy for money. For a lot of us, work takes up a significant amount of our time, and thus our Life Energy. In return, we get some money that we then spend to make our lives better.

The question you need to ask yourself is this: is what you're spending on worth the amount of Life Energy you've given up for it?

Crunching the numbers

Let's use some of the math skills we learned in school and bring this concept to life. If you hate math, feel free to glaze over the numbers and focus on the point I'm trying to make.

Say I work as an executive, and I earn USD 5,000 a month in exchange for the standard eight-hour workday, five days a week. That's USD 5,000 for 160 hours of my time each month. So theoretically, my time is worth:

USD 5,000 ÷ 160 hours = USD 31/hour

However, the picture is incomplete, because it doesn't take into account the additional costs of having a job:

Time spent getting ready to work in the morning = 0.5 hour/day, or 2.5 hours/week

Time spent stuck in traffic to get to work and get home from work = 3 hours/day, or 15 hours/week

Time spent de-stressing from work by watching TV like a zombie = 1 hour/day, or 5 hours/week

Costumes needed to look acceptable at work = USD 300/month

Vacations or toys needed to escape from work = USD 3,000/year, or USD 250/month

Altogether, I spend an additional 22.5 hours a week, or 90 hours a month, with work-related tasks. Since an hour of my time is worth USD 31, those 90 hours I spend are worth around USD 2,790 a month. The costumes and vacations are another USD 550 a month.

So, out of my salary of USD 5,000 a month, I am actually only truly earning:

USD 5,000 – USD 2,790 –USD 550 = USD 1,660

My new and accurate hourly price is now:

USD 1,660 ÷160 hours = USD 10/hour

This is the price of my Life Energy, a grand USD 10 an hour. For all the work that I do, I am actually making only USD 10 an hour. This is the point where working at McDonald's serving burgers seems more lucrative.

Now what?

What's the point of knowing the price of your Life Energy?

The benefit of knowing the price of your Life Energy is the ability to evaluate what is worth spending it on.

For example, I am thinking of buying an expensive watch worth USD 10,000. Since I know that my Life Energy is worth USD 10 an hour, I can calculate that I am trading 1,000 hours of my Life Energy for it. That's a lot of hours. That's more than a month of my life!

For some of us, 1,000 hours of Life Energy for a nice watch is totally worth it. Because we love and appreciate watches, and because the watch brings us a lot of happiness, we have no issue exchanging that much of our Life Energy for it.

For the rest of us, it may be a bit shocking to realise just how much of our limited time we're giving up on earth for a watch. Maybe, we realise we could have used those 1,000 hours spent at our jobs just to afford this watch by doing something else instead.

Apply it to your life

You need to evaluate whether what you spend on is worth what you're giving up for it. Is the premium cheese at the supermarket worth an hour of your Life Energy? Is that USD 800,000 house worth 80,000 hours (nine years) of your time on earth?

The important thing here is that YOU get to decide if it's worth it. Each of us has different quirks and preferences. For example, I would balk at spending USD 50 (five hours of Life Energy) on a nice meal, because fancy food doesn't interest me. However, I will happily spend USD 500 (50 hours of Life Energy) on a 30-second thrilling sky-diving jump, because that's what I like and what I value. You may think I'm crazy, but you don't get to have a say.

So, if you like nice houses or premium cheese, and you deem those worthy of giving up your Life Energy for, then by all means, do so.

However, you may find that you are spending too much of your Life Energy on things you don't actually care about, or that don't even make you all that happy. Maybe, you're paying 200 hours of your Life Energy on rent, but you hardly ever spend time in the house, or you barely even use all that space. Maybe, it's time to downsize so you no longer need to work so hard and for so many hours just to be able to afford it.

Remember…

We all have a limited amount of time to enjoy our lives—maybe 80 years or so, on average. The majority of those years is spent on our jobs. While some of us are lucky enough to enjoy the work we do and find a lot of meaning in it, the rest of us often wish we could do something else with that time and with our Life Energy. But we stay on because we need the money to pay for all the things we buy.

Sometimes, we overcompensate for our unhappiness by buying too much stuff and taking on way too many loans that we think will make us happy, except they don't and are not worth the trouble. But we don't know this, because we've never really been able to measure what we're giving up in exchange for them.

But now that you actually have a way to measure it using the price of your Life Energy, you can actually evaluate whether the things you spend on are worth the amount of Life Energy you give them.

And if you find that they are not worth it, then stop spending the money. Instead, keep the money. Even better, grow the money.

Things for you to do right now

1. Calculate how much you're getting paid an hour by dividing your monthly salary (plus bonuses, if relevant) by the number of hours you work each month.

2. Tabulate all of the extra costs to holding that job that you wouldn't have to pay for if you didn't have to go to work, e.g. the clothes, the commute, the de-stressors, etc. Subtract that from your salary, and calculate how much you're actually getting paid an hour. That is the price of your Life Energy.

3. Look at all of the things you pay for and calculate how much Life Energy they are costing you. Decide if they are worth it.

If they are worth it, by all means, keep throwing your money at them.

If they are not, then eliminate those expenses and keep the money instead.

Atiqah Nadiah Zailani (https://atiqahnadiah.wixsite.com) is a Malaysian professional aspiring for a balanced, sustainable life by living well with less, who solves problems and gets things done for a living.