The individual lives in Gazipur Sadar and commutes daily to a garment factory in Dhaka, while being a voter of the Gulshan-1 constituency. However, the person's memories are filled with the life in a village on the banks of the Teesta in the country’s north. The individual is now considering returning home during the holiday. The river-eroded village is poor and neglected.
Speaking on condition of anonymity, the individual said that in the constituency traditionally associated with the Jatiya Party’s eletoral symbol plough, voters’ inclination this time appears to be shifting towards Jamaat-e-Islami’s scales. People are assessing candidates based on their likelihood of winning and their ability to work for the area.
This correcpondent met the individual unexpectedly on the morning of 3 February while heading to observe the Gazipur-2 constituency. This is the constituency with the highest number of voters in the country. There are slightly over 800,000 voters, more than half of whom are women.
The Tongi and Gacha areas of the constituency have dense settlements of migrant garment workers. Many of them have become local voters, while many others vote in their respective home areas. The voting pattern here mirrors the national political mood and provides a glimpse into voters’ broader sentiments beyond the constituency.
I am heading towards Gopalpur via Tongi Station Road, passing the BSCIC Industrial Area. Along the way, I see the most banners of the paddy sheaf. There are also many hand-fan symbols of Islami Andolan Bangladesh, and the Shapla Koli (water-lily bud) symbol of National Citizen Party (NCP), a member of the alliance led by Jamaat-e-Islami.
On a narrow road in Gopalpur, I meet four middle-aged women. They work at a washing factory on a daily wage of Tk 500. They did not get work that day. When the topic of voting comes up, their voices turn sharp. One says, “We voted, but jobs didn’t come.” Another says, “How are we supposed to eat?” She adds that she will go to Nandail in Mymensingh to cast her vote. They hurried away, asking that their names and photos not be used.
At a neat rice shop, several elderly people also made the same request. They are businessmen by profession and lean towards BNP. They said BNP is currently dominant in this constituency. In Tongi, influential BNP-aligned families have long had a strong presence. However, they said the contest would have been intense if Jamaat had a party candidate.
For these elderly voters, the pro–Liberation War forces are a major issue in this election. They said they cannot forget the memories of the war. One of them said that if not harassed, supporters of the now activity-banned Awami League might also tilt towards BNP.
They want a fair election and peace and security on the streets. One said the country’s condition is not good. People have lost patience. Over trivial matters, people are killing one another. In his words, “There is a lot of sorrow in people’s hearts… good and bad have become indistinguishable.”
Over 13 hours, I spoke to at least 40 people in Tongi and Gacha. Many requested that their names, identities, and photos not be used. Many refused to speak or later withdrew their statements. Among them was also a representative of a shrine.
Vote and referendum
In the afternoon in Mirzabari of Gacha and towards evening in the Paghar area of Tongi, I heard microphone announcements with BNP slogans. There is strong interest in voting in people’s conversations, but little visible enthusiasm in campaigning. And many people are unclear about the referendum.
In the morning, I went to Tongi T&T Bazaar. Fresh vegetables, fish, meat, eggs, and various kinds of dried fish are on display. But there is not much crowd; the main customers—garment workers—were at factories then.
Calling out “Potatoes at Tk 20, tomatoes at Tk 30,” young Sathi was managing her husband’s small shop. She said she would definitely vote, but has not yet decided for whom. She showed no interest at all when the referendum was mentioned.
Standing with a plate holding a few pigeon chicks was Ruhul Amin, with a white beard. He said, “I’ll come when it’s time to vote,” and then choose a candidate. He added, “Prices of goods should be kept under control so that poor and rich alike can buy and eat.”
When asked about the ‘yes–no vote,’ he said he does not understand it. If he has to vote, he will. On the opposite side, a woman selling tomatoes, beans, and Bombay chilies asked, “What kind of vote is that again?” Several others said similar things.
However, a male vegetable vendor said he heard on the news that the ‘yes–no’ vote means no party can stay in power for more than 10 years. Many around him said this would be good.
Garment worker Azizun Nahar from Kuniya Mirzabari in Gacha Thana is eagerly counting the days to voting. She said she had once heard about a ‘yes–no’ vote when she was young. She does not understand this one. She wants to cast her vote with full understanding.
But in Mirzabari, a mason and a tea-stall owner, Md Abdus Samad, who follows the news and internet, understand the core issue of the referendum. Samad will go to Syedpur in Nilphamari to vote. He said, “Forget the past. What matters is how we move forward and work together.”
There is a large-screen TV in his shop. People reportedly gather there after evening to watch YouTube. Do they know that many falsehoods spread through videos? Samad said they do. Still, people enjoy watching.
In the afternoon, I went to Jhinu Market near the BSCIC Industrial Area. Garment worker Rashedul Islam will go to Palashbari in Gaibandha to vote. He hopes that whether BNP or Jamaat comes to power, something good will be done. He said those who previously failed to keep their promises faced dire consequences. Whoever comes next will surely act with caution.
After roaming all day, I found only a handful of clear voter decisions: ‘Yes’ means in favour of July 2024, while ‘No’ means the opposite. ‘Yes–no’ is also being seen in terms of pro- and anti–Liberation War forces. A clear meaning of ‘No’ is being interpreted as ‘authoritarian,’ pro–Awami League, or pro-India.
Support and choice
Tenants usually use their landlords’ addresses to become local voters. I heard about landlords influencing tenants’ voting decisions, but also about workers making independent choices. Mominur Rahman has been living in Tongi for over two decades. A left-leaning labour leader, he was once a garment worker himself.
Mominur says a large section of workers supports Jamaat because the party is not seen engaging in mugging, extortion, or drugs in the area. Shafiullah Gazi, a labour leader in Gacha, said Jamaat does a lot of work in his area.
They said that because Jamaat is not directly contesting and there are no rebel candidates, BNP is now relaxed. Jamaat supporters’ votes may not all go to the alliance’s NCP candidate.
A young rickshaw puller in Tongi said he is aligned with Tabligh. If he votes, he will vote for the hand-fan, not Jamaat. On the other hand, young garment worker Shakil Ahmed and his wife Marzia Khatun lean towards Jamaat for religious reasons and in hope of justice.
Meanwhile, in Mirzapur of Gacha, Azizun said Jamaat is now talking about granting rights. Their fear is whether the stance might change later—whether girls’ work might be restricted.
Three perspectives
Ahead of the voting holiday, factories are running continuously. Workers have no time to breathe. At 7:00 pm, Samia Akter came out of a factory in the Tongi BSCIC area. She is religious. She said every Thursday during lunch breaks, senior sisters conduct religious lessons and share good advice at the factory.
Samia’s father depends on her income to support her mentally unstable mother and brother. At 29, she will vote for the first time in her life because she needs “an identity of her own.” Her vote is in Ghatail, Tangail. She does not yet know much about the candidates and may follow her father’s decision.
Samia wants a candidate who will work for people, not do anything anti-religious, reduce prices, ensure security, a healthy work environment, liveable wages, education, and healthcare.
Before returning to Dhaka, I spoke at night with a minority female garment worker in her tiny room. She lives there with her daughter, whom she sends to school. Her husband lives separately. She said she heard from her uncle that there were some problems in the village “after the movement.” But she herself sees nothing to fear and moves forward with courage. Her vote is in the village. She said this is her first opportunity to vote at the national level. However, because of her responsibility towards her daughter, she may not be able to go in the end.
On the way back to Dhaka, I kept thinking about Promila Rani Barman. She is also a garment worker. I met her in Tongi in the afternoon. Her vote is also here. She does not understand the ‘yes–no’ vote, but she understands that she must vote.
Promila said, “We are poor people, sister. We live by hard work. Wherever we see support for us… that’s where we should vote, right?”
Throughout the day, everyone spoke about the contest in this constituency between the paddy sheaf candidates and the water-lily bud candidates, backed by the scale. Among those whose votes are at home, I also heard these two names. But beyond the electoral battle, what emerged in everyone’s conversations was a larger concern—whether there will be a chance to live a little better?