The Wealth That Left Bangladesh

A country can lose its wealth long before it defaults on its debt. The losses accumulate through inflated construction contracts, manipulated share prices and bank loans issued to companies that barely exist. Years later, citizens discover that the liabilities remain at home while some of the people under investigation own substantial property abroad.

Bangladesh must confront this dimension of the Awami League’s economic legacy. The question extends beyond whether Sheikh Hasina’s government-built bridges, tunnels and power plants. It concerns what those projects cost, who benefited from those financial decisions, and why institutions responsible for protecting public money have repeatedly failed.

The evidence demands accountability. It also demands precision. Procurement irregularities, failed investments, allegations of money laundering and criminal convictions are different categories. Distinguishing them strengthens the case against economic wrongdoing and makes it harder for those responsible to dismiss scrutiny as political revenge.

Consider the development model itself. In October 2024, Transparency International Bangladesh estimated that corruption accounted for 23-40 percent of road and bridge construction expenditure under the Roads and Highways Department during FY2009-10 to FY2023-24.Its estimated losses ranged from Tk 29,230 crore to Tk 50,835 crore. The study described collusion among politicians, contractors and senior officials, involving bribery, tender manipulation and the sale of work orders. These are research estimates rather than judicial determinations, but they identify a systemic problem in public procurement.

Rooppur provides a concrete example. In 2019, while Hasina remained in power, a government inquiry identified Tk 36.4 crore in irregularities involving furniture and household purchases for the nuclear power project’s residential buildings. Investigators recommended action against 50 officials. The notorious “pillow scandal” became a national symbol because ordinary household purchases exposed extraordinary failures of oversight. These findings concerned the housing component, not proof that the entire nuclear project was fraudulent. Their significance is that even a highly visible national undertaking lacked effective protection against procurement abuse.

The Karnaphuli Tunnel raises a different accountability question: whether the assumptions used to justify expensive infrastructure received serious scrutiny. Reporting on a government evaluation in July 2026, The Business Standard put the project’s cost at Tk 10,689 crore. Daily traffic stood at approximately 4,000–4,500 vehicles against a feasibility projection of 28,350 for 2025. Toll receipts covered barely more than half of operating expenditure. The evaluation also recognized travel-time savings and potential future benefits. Poor initial performance alone does not establish corruption, but it makes an independent examination of forecasting, procurement and project selection indispensable.

Public infrastructure can produce genuine benefits while still costing taxpayers far more than necessary. A completed bridge cannot answer questions about inflated contracts. A functioning power plant cannot excuse dishonest procurement. Political ceremonies should never substitute for an economic audit.

The stock market offers another record of institutional failure. The committee led by Khondkar Ibrahim Khaled, which investigated the 2010-11 crash, reported that dishonest traders had extracted at least Tk 20,000 crore from retail investors through practices involving direct listings, private placements and other mechanisms. It identified extensive manipulation and collusion involving market institutions and regulators. Khaled also cautioned against reducing the scandal to party identity: connected businessmen could exploit political relationships across partisan lines.

That observation makes the governing party’s responsibility more serious, not less. A government has a duty to enforce market rules regardless of the offender’s affiliation. When regulators permit insiders to exploit ordinary investors, the damage reaches beyond individual losses. Families become reluctant to invest, legitimate companies face a less trusted capital market, and political access begins to displace commercial merit.

The banking sector reveals an even more disturbing mechanism. An ordinary business loan finances an enterprise whose assets and cash flows support repayment. A fraudulent loan can use the appearance of commercial activity to transfer depositors’ money to insiders. Paper companies and fabricated documents give an extraction operation the accounting appearance of an investment.

A specific example emerged in December 2025, when the Anti-Corruption Commission approved a case involving “Zaman Syndicate,” described in reporting on the investigation as a paper-based company. The ACC alleged that approximately Tk 1,008 crore had been misappropriated through financing from Islami Bank’s Pabna branch, using forged documents and collusion. The accused included individuals associated with S Alam businesses and the bank. These remain allegations requiring proof, but they illustrate precisely what the public means by “phantom loans.”

The broader allegations are staggering. In an October 2024 interview, Bangladesh Bank Governor Ahsan H. Mansur alleged that takeovers of banks facilitated by intelligence officials had allowed businessmen associated with S Alam to extract around $17 billion from the banking system. He described lending to connected interests and fabricated import invoices as mechanisms. S Alam Group strongly denied wrongdoing and challenged the authorities’ treatment of it. The governor’s allegations warrant rigorous investigation, not automatic treatment as a court-established loss.

When fraudulent lending leaves banks insolvent, the consequences spread. Depositors face uncertainty. Healthy firms encounter tighter credit. Recapitalization can transfer private losses to taxpayers, while monetary support can add inflationary pressure. Citizens may therefore pay twice: first through the diversion of their savings, and later through the cost of repairing the financial system.

The overseas dimension brings Western financial centers directly into this story. A joint investigation by Transparency International UK and The Observer identified nearly £400 million in British property belonging to politically influential Bangladeshis under investigation for financial crime. Those identified included a former minister, relatives of an influential adviser and businessmen accused of money laundering. The investigation also questioned the scrutiny applied by banks, lawyers and other professionals involved in the acquisitions. Ownership establishes an asset trail. Investigators must still establish whether particular purchases used criminal proceeds.

In June 2025, the Financial Times reported that Britain’s National Crime Agency had obtained orders freezing 342 properties, with a combined purchase price of approximately £185 million, linked to former land minister Saifuzzaman Chowdhury. A freezing order preserves assets during proceedings; it does not establish guilt or complete their recovery. Chowdhury has maintained that his overseas wealth came from legitimate business and has described the allegations as politically motivated.

These cases expose a profound international contradiction. Western governments urge poorer countries to improve governance, yet their own property markets and professional services can provide a destination for suspicious wealth. Where criminal proceeds enter through companies, intermediaries or property transactions, the responsibility extends to anyone who knowingly assists concealment or fails applicable anti-money-laundering duties.

Bangladesh’s response must therefore combine domestic accountability with international asset recovery. Investigators need transaction-level evidence linking procurement payments, bank disbursements, intermediaries and overseas purchases. Prosecutors must distinguish genuine commercial failure from deliberate fraud. Courts must protect due process so that recovery claims can withstand scrutiny abroad.

Every major public project should disclose contract amendments, beneficial owners and independent assessments of value for money. Banks need credible examinations of connected lending and recoverability. Securities regulators must pursue manipulation regardless of political sponsorship. Recovered assets should enter publicly audited accounts, with citizens able to see how the proceeds are used.

Britain, the United States, Canada and European jurisdictions should cooperate wherever evidence leads to assets within their borders. They should also examine the conduct of professional intermediaries. Bangladesh cannot recover stolen wealth through speeches alone, and destination countries cannot meet their responsibilities through expressions of concern.

The Awami League’s economic legacy must ultimately be judged against the opportunities Bangladesh lost as well as the structures it built. A diverted procurement payment could have financed a classroom. A fraudulent loan could have supported a productive factory. Money concealed abroad could have strengthened the country whose institutions made its extraction possible.

The obligation now is to establish responsibility, recover what can be recovered and prevent the same machinery from serving another political elite. Bangladesh’s citizens deserve more than a change in the beneficiaries of power. They deserve institutions that keep public wealth in public service.