Editorial

I recently left Dhaka for a couple of days. I was coming back into the city on a long haul bus, entering through Sayedabad, and the image that hit me was striking. Buses, trucks, horns blaring from those buses and trucks, dust, lots of dust, settling on rows and rows of posters that surrounded the street in a papery chokehold. Welcome to my city.

The city prepares for new leadership to take it into an era that’ll either rubberstamp its status of being completely uninhabitable, or maybe revive it into a functioning modern metropolis. Young people are going to carry the load of both eventualities, and their stake is the one that needs to be discussed the most. Lest the next welcome to my city should make me want to jump out of the window of a bus onto a truck that is taking unsold cabbages back to, say… Chuadanga?