Stories of human survival

Women agricultural workers gather and bundle spinach from a vegetable field. They work from 8am to 4pm and earn Tk 300 a day. Chaheda, Dumuria upazila, Khulna,File photo

People's pace of progress and their means of survival are no longer keeping pace with each other. Making ends meet is becoming increasingly difficult. How are people managing to survive? What drives them and sustains their will to live? How hard are they striving to keep their lives going? This special supplement explores these experiences.

The stories featured here capture the struggles of ordinary people. Their expectations are not extravagant. They simply want to lead a life of reasonable comfort and security. Ensuring such comfort requires adequate means and resources, which must come from systems and structures.

The state is the principal architect of those systems. It is hardly unreasonable for people to demand that the state play a humane role in protecting their lives and rights.

The fundamental principles of Bangladesh's Liberation War were equality, human dignity and social justice. The people's dream was to build a tolerant state, free from all forms of injustice.

The central spirit of the 2024 mass uprising was also the vision of building an egalitarian Bangladesh. In other words, the aspiration for a humane, tolerant and inclusive state for all citizens, irrespective of ethnicity, race, religion or geographical identity, remains as relevant as ever.

Yet, a humane and tolerant state for all citizens has not been built. Various forms of inequality, including socioeconomic disparities, remain entrenched in every layer of the state structure.

Marginalised people and those at the bottom of society are increasingly being pushed outside the orbit of the state. To them, the state seems like an empty, tasteless entity. They hardly feel its presence in their everyday lives.

A deeply troubling trend has emerged in the politicisation of services ostensibly provided to citizens. Unless someone is connected to the political network of the ruling party, accessing state benefits is far from easy. In a broader sense, a life without political affiliation has become a life without rights. A farmer in a village, with no meaningful political connections, may have to repeatedly approach a political leader just to obtain a sack of fertiliser.

Politics devoid of principles and ideals has poisoned civic life. Meaningful citizenship rights have failed to take root. Almost everything is presented by politicians as a special 'favour' extended to the people. Such favour-giving often serves as a means of securing subservience.

Citizens are drawn into a process of political patronage through these so-called 'favours', a practice known in academic terms as clientelism. Politicians today need large numbers of clients, loyalists, voters and supporters.

Their principal activity often involves placing people in vulnerable situations and compelling them to demonstrate allegiance. This becomes evident when one examines the various allowances and card distribution programmes introduced under successive governments.

In the absence of effective systems and institutions, politicians also find an abundance of people who are compelled to depend on them. The failure to establish good governance and effective administrative structures has only increased people's dependence on politicians.

This malpractice cannot be dismissed as a recent phenomenon. Since independence, people have remained trapped in this particular political culture. Politics, at its highest level, is a refined form of public conduct grounded in morality, ideals and public welfare.

The practice of cheap, short-term politics has become unbearable. Political parties cannot escape responsibility for this. Some argue that an effective state cannot be built because people have failed to become citizens in the true sense. But can the political class evade responsibility for the very failure of people to develop into active citizens?

The state structure has become a classroom for practising political ugliness. An inclusive state has failed to emerge; instead, the state has become the preserve of the powerful and the wealthy. The vast majority of the country's population live without feeling any meaningful connection to the state.

Beyond its coercive influence, little of a positive nature touches their lives. The everyday lives of the state and its people do not move in tandem. How do people survive when, in any meaningful sense, the state is absent from their lives? This is a profound question.

Through laws and policy frameworks, the state is supposed to forge relationships with its people. But these laws and policies, in any meaningful sense, fail to touch their everyday lives.

As a result, an increasing number of official documents are becoming ineffective and fruitless. The relationship between the state and its people should be built on connection, support and security. Instead of moving towards that ideal, the state has become an obstacle.

A profound disconnect has emerged between the state and its people. The relationship between the state and ordinary people, particularly those on the margins, has become strangely distant and unfamiliar.

Yet people must survive and find ways to carry on with their lives. They cannot afford to wait for the state to come to their rescue. They must take the initiative themselves, find their way forward with whatever limited resources they have and seek out a livelihood. This reflects the extraordinary resilience of the people of this country. They are resourceful, inventive and indomitable.

They find their own paths, smooth the way and make it more prosperous. In doing so, they create stories unlike any other. Along the way, they may sometimes find support in relatives, friends and neighbours. During personal crises, people do not necessarily find the state by their side. More often, they turn to their neighbourhoods, relatives, well-wishers and friends.

Personal, familial and social relationships are what keep marginalised people going. They do not allow grief to overwhelm them or surrender to despair. Even in the darkest hours, they sow the seeds of hope. It is vital to recognise and understand this extraordinary human resilience.

The indomitable strength of ordinary people is the foundation of their achievements. Within the state structure, they represent another dynamic force. They are enterprising, industrious and creative. Even without any significant support, they can change their own fortunes.

If the state could establish a meaningful relationship with its people, the results could be extraordinary. Every story published in this special supplement is unique and inspiring. 

* Khan Md Robiul Alam is a communication specialist and teacher.