The sky’s gone out

The recent RMG sector protest has (re)exposed a number of faultlines within our socio-economic fabric which, as the days pass and inflation surpasses even Arnie in terms of muscle mass, are becoming harder to ignore. Particularly, the demanded wage of 30,000 BDT/month – an amount that is completely justified, mind you – deserves special attention, and no amount of mockery circulated on social media, no number of justifications offered by the ‘educated’ camp (“Even engineers from Tier 1 institutes fail to command such salaries upon graduation!”) is going to convince me otherwise.

In fact, it is precisely this rebuttal that places a larger spotlight on this issue and in doing so, unearths the gaping abyss underneath. You see, the protest is not happening in isolation; just like the success of the owners is directly linked to the ‘growth’ + ‘prosperity’ of the economy, the success (which in this case, is less than zero) of the workers is linked to the growth and prosperity of people like you and me. I want to drive Bugattis, smoke Gurkha Royals, and jet set from Monaco to Havana to Vegas, but just like you, I’m an average person with an average job in a bottom-of-the-barrel country, and after taking care of my bills, I can hardly think about saving, much less about saving up for a mortgage.

It is through this lens that the demands of the RMG workers start to make sense, and when taken to its logical conclusion, the consequences begin to seem apocalyptic. After all, for a capital termed the third least livable globally, Dhaka is mighty expensive, with recent reports indicating that even 50,000 BDT/month for a family of four is barely enough. Furthermore, with an inflation rate hovering around 8.65%, that blind bum standing on the street corner screaming THE END IS NEAR suddenly becomes scarier than Dracula.

But how did we get here? When I was an infant, my father used to make around 10,000 BDT/month, and while we didn’t live in posh areas like Gulshan or Dhanmondi, this ‘meager’ sum allowed us not only to survive, but thrive. Towards the end of the 2000s, this amount jumped to 40,000/BDT, and on top of thriving, this allowed us to splurge on the occasional luxury, like my first ever gaming computer. Hell, just around Covid, I was making significantly less than what the workers are demanding currently, but my throat never felt this tight. What happened in these intervening years? What exactly went wrong?

Dollar dollar

Of course, anyone with any interest in international commerce – or even the gambling sites promoted by Banglar Jan Banglar Pran (I don’t judge) – will point their fingers at the obvious culprit, that rectangular, green piece of paper that seems to rule the world (Illuminati confirmed?). For as long as I can remember, a dollar generally translated into roughly 80 BDT, and for the longest time, this arrangement seemed to work. In fact, while the dollar did rise from a 2006 base of approximately 67 BDT to around 80 in 2018, the rise was spaced out and gradual enough that it didn’t much matter in the grander scheme (furthermore, it didn’t hurt that – alongside the introduction of an extra weekend – wages seemed to rise gradually as well). But the unfathomable currency depreciation that eclipsed the nation starting in 2021 has been unprecedented, to the point that the large-scale stock market crash of ’96 seems like paradise.

For a country primarily dependent on imports – especially for absolute necessities like gas and fuel – this has been a terminal shock and, exacerbated by the later wars in Ukraine and Iran, is a wound which will haunt us for years.

Skyfall

A popular myth which lasted until Covid broke out purported that the country was on a trail of unprecedented growth, that within a couple decades or so, Bangladesh would turn into and even surpass Singapore (in fact, several ‘intellectuals’ of the previous ruling party claimed that this had already taken place).

From a surface-glance, this makes sense. In fact, from 2011-2019, the country maintained an impressive GDP growth of over 6% annually, something corroborated by the rapid expansion of commercial enterprises (especially in terms of food and lifestyle).

However, when Covid came around, everything crashed like a house of cards, to the point that there was mass exodus from the city, establishments closing left and right, and in a last-ditch effort, the government offering cash to small business, hoping to keep things afloat.

This contradicted the myth of unprecedented growth at major junctions, primarily in the form of this question: if companies, and indeed, the middle-class had made so much money over the last decade or so, why did everything fall apart with a lockdown that barely spanned a couple months? Particularly, the RMG sector posted record profits during the timeline in question; where did all the money go?

For the average worker, the answer is simple enough. According to the International Labor Organization, even though worker productivity went up by around 5% during this time, real minimum wages saw a negative growth of 5.9%. For your average worker, this meant that even though they were working more effectively, taking inflation into account, they were actually earning less.

For businesses, the answer is doubly simple, but it is one we stubbornly refuse to acknowledge. Multiple reports indicate that during this time – and indeed, this is something that continues now – the rich just kept getting fatter, and while some of that money went into the expansion of commercial enterprises previously mentioned (which ultimately failed to matter, given that these contemporary Marie Antoinettes abused government bailouts while slashing and cutting across the board), most of it was flown out (2019 saw a then record outflow of $605 million) while the rest of it was used to solidify a hellscape where the son of a prominent businessman can use the streets as his personal F1 track, pull a Salman Khan, and later post pictures with his newly bought McLaren, pontificating about haters and success and gratitude. (A picture from Saudi in the near future, perhaps?)

Ghosts in the machine

So far, you have a currency depreciation that is making everything costlier. On top of that, you have a ruling class that treats you and I like dirt, to the point that even if they point a gun to our heads in broad daylight – which is perfectly exemplified by the fact that there are certain businesses that are valued at Billions but still choose to offer 20-25,000 BDT/month to management trainees (I suddenly feel very thirsty; guess I’ll grab a Frooto) – we wouldn’t be able to do anything but comply.

On top of that, you of course have our perpetually being-beaten-into-slavery within the global supply chain, which will only worsen – in fact, there is a risk that we’ll be wiped off the board – due to advances in AI, and there’s our perpetual lament that we need to diversify, diversify, diversify …

But I’d argue that everything connects back to the primary causes I’ve mentioned. In fact, even if we weren’t in this state of this rapid currency depreciation, I’d argue the net result would be the same.

Ultimately, we live in a country under an unholy alliance between big business and the government, where tragedies like Rana Plaza could transpire on the daily and we still wouldn’t see any arrests (even when we do see them, it’ll all be for show). In fact, this unholy alliance is the reason that companies can still break contracts with impunity, is the reason that a certain reptile was able to embezzle crores in customer pre-orders without delivering anything. To that end, even if we do diversify/there is an increase in foreign direct investments, Party No. 1 with tons of cash will still manage to buy out Party No. 2 who possess unlimited power, and in the end, nothing will change. (And while some might take this as advocacy for communism, under all economic systems, power-relations remain unchanged, which is the real essence of the problem.)

_______ never change

I started this article through the claim that certain faultlines have come to light that are getting harder to ignore; however, after thinking things through for the past couple hours, I think it’s better that we choose to ignore this gaping abyss like we always do, that we choose to move on to the next-viral-issue-of-the-week. After all, awareness implies understanding, and understanding under such circumstances necessitates a call to action, but how can you even ironically contemplate such an action when it’s akin to Sisyphus up-rolling his boulder?

Since 1947, this wretched hellhole has achieved ‘freedom’ three times, but when everything was said and done, did anything fundamental change?

If you’re smart enough, you’ll know the answer.

If you’re a genius, you’ll close this stupid rant and get back to work. Remember, big brother is watching.

Nafis Shahriar is a writer based in Dhaka, Bangladesh. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Brooklyn to Gangnam, A Thin Slice of Anxiety, and Nutshell Today. He can be reached on Instagram @somedudefromasia