On an uncharacteristically cool April evening, I stepped out of Banani’s blaring traffic and neon haze into a dimly lit room tucked within a commercial building and almost cinematically shifted from chaos to a melodical hush. A small audience leaned forward, captivated by the spell of an ensemble that included an esraj, a sarod, a jazz guitarist and a drummer, and a vocalist whose voice moved without language, just sound, rhythm, and improvisation. The music was neither entirely classical nor jazz nor fusion, but something looser, more exploratory, alive to the moment.
International Women’s Day has its roots in political struggles for gender equality, yet its original essence has been diluted over time.
Following the fall of Sheikh Hasina and the establishment of the interim government, the once powerful voices of women during the revolution are missing in the public sphere. Historically, women’s rights have been deprioritised or postponed in favour of broader societal objectives. In post-revolution Bangladesh, where there have been several worrying incidents involving violence, online harassment and moral policing, we find ourselves in a position where we are having to choose between voicing our concerns, or showing patience.
Most public spaces and buildings in the country are not equipped to accommodate individuals with disabilities.
What I’ve learned through this experience is that inclusion is hard. It requires more time and energy, more empathy and patience, more attention to detail and extra effort considering experiences that don’t come naturally to us.
My mother likes to tell a story about the time a colleague brought his son to work and introduced her as his boss, to which the child scrunched up his face and said,
Tariq* was repeatedly molested by an uncle over three years since he was five. The uncle used to bribe him with chocolate and ask him nicely to not tell anyone about their “playtime”.
There is mounting evidence that inclusive institutions have positive impact on a country's growth and progress when marginalised groups gain better access to education, higher learning opportunities, and gainful employment.
On an uncharacteristically cool April evening, I stepped out of Banani’s blaring traffic and neon haze into a dimly lit room tucked within a commercial building and almost cinematically shifted from chaos to a melodical hush. A small audience leaned forward, captivated by the spell of an ensemble that included an esraj, a sarod, a jazz guitarist and a drummer, and a vocalist whose voice moved without language, just sound, rhythm, and improvisation. The music was neither entirely classical nor jazz nor fusion, but something looser, more exploratory, alive to the moment.
International Women’s Day has its roots in political struggles for gender equality, yet its original essence has been diluted over time.
Following the fall of Sheikh Hasina and the establishment of the interim government, the once powerful voices of women during the revolution are missing in the public sphere. Historically, women’s rights have been deprioritised or postponed in favour of broader societal objectives. In post-revolution Bangladesh, where there have been several worrying incidents involving violence, online harassment and moral policing, we find ourselves in a position where we are having to choose between voicing our concerns, or showing patience.
Most public spaces and buildings in the country are not equipped to accommodate individuals with disabilities.
What I’ve learned through this experience is that inclusion is hard. It requires more time and energy, more empathy and patience, more attention to detail and extra effort considering experiences that don’t come naturally to us.
My mother likes to tell a story about the time a colleague brought his son to work and introduced her as his boss, to which the child scrunched up his face and said,
Tariq* was repeatedly molested by an uncle over three years since he was five. The uncle used to bribe him with chocolate and ask him nicely to not tell anyone about their “playtime”.
There is mounting evidence that inclusive institutions have positive impact on a country's growth and progress when marginalised groups gain better access to education, higher learning opportunities, and gainful employment.
