How cable TV lost its place in Bangladesh’s homes

In the evenings of the late 1990s, entire neighbourhoods would crowd around a single glowing television. Cable TV — locally known as "dish line" — was nothing short of a marvel. 

Suddenly, viewing was no longer confined to the state-run BTV; a world (however small) of channels had opened up. Children sat wide-eyed for cartoons, adults debated drama plot twists, and entire families gathered for cricket finals. 

Cable operators, familiar figures in every neighbourhood, could be seen climbing balconies and threading wires across electric poles, connecting homes to this new universe of entertainment.

For a generation growing up before the rise of broadband and smartphones, cable television was more of a shared cultural pipeline than just entertainment. 

"When Covid-19 hit, internet usage increased dramatically. A significant portion of our viewers shifted from big screens to small screens. People now spend most of their time on Facebook, YouTube and other platforms, watching whatever they want on demand." ABM Saiful Hossen Sohel, President, Cable Operators Association of Bangladesh

Today, that shared ritual has splintered into individual screens: smartphones in bedrooms or smart TVs streaming personalised feeds in the living room.

"Our cable business in Bangladesh began around 1992–93," recalls Cable Operators Association of Bangladesh (COAB) President ABM Saiful Hossen Sohel. "When we first started, there were no Bangladeshi channels at all. We launched the business with just a handful of foreign channels."

By the late 1990s and early 2000s, local channels began to emerge, first tentatively, then in waves. ATN Bangla's early partial broadcasts were followed by Channel i and Ekushey Television. "Today," Sohel says, "there are around 42 local Bangladeshi channels on air."

Over nearly three decades, the industry laid down kilometres of cables, expanding from metropolitan centres to the farthest corners of Bangladesh. "It was often said that wherever there is electricity in Bangladesh, there is cable television," he adds.

That ubiquity once translated into formidable numbers. A 2019 survey by the National Board of Revenue (NBR) found that cable television connections in the country remained more than 3.8 crore. 

The industry comprises more than 10,000 small and medium operators across the country. The monthly subscriptions range from Tk200 to Tk400. But the glow has since faded.

More recent industry estimates suggest the number of cable TV subscribers currently stands at well above 2 crore. 

Rooftops dotted with cable dishes used to be a common sight. 

This shift  reflects a global trend. According to Nielsen's 2025 media report, traditional TV (cable and broadcast) now accounts for roughly 44% of total viewing, nearly equal to streaming platforms, which have rapidly grown to about 45%. In many markets, cable TV is being replaced by more convenient alternatives.

The great migration to screens without wires

From around 2007, internet services began spreading steadily in Bangladesh. By 2012, broadband was formally expanding across urban areas. Then came the inflection point: Covid-19.

"When Covid-19 hit, internet usage increased dramatically," Sohel says. "A significant portion of our viewers shifted from big screens to small screens. People now spend most of their time on Facebook, YouTube and other platforms, watching whatever they want on demand."

The shift is both behavioural and economic. A household that once paid Tk200 for cable can now consume a vast library of content through bundled broadband, over-the-top (OTT) subscriptions, or even free platforms. The appeal is obvious: no rigid programme schedules, no waiting for prime time, no extra cable bill.

There are also persistent complaints about weak signals and poor picture quality, along with frequent service disruptions. Customers often cite delays in repairing disconnected lines and the absence of options to customise channel packages according to their preferences.

Nafisa Haque Subah, a resident of Malibagh and a former cable TV subscriber, reflects that transition succinctly, "Cable TV line was indeed an amazing thing in our childhood, but as time passed by, we started having a little inconvenience with dish channels. We bought new-gen TVs with OTT facilities that freed us from time-bindings and exposed a lot more options for entertainment. It also helped cut costs of extra cable lines."

The numbers tell a stark story. "If we once had 100 customers, today we may have only 50," Sohel admits. "The remaining 50 are fulfilling their needs through other platforms."

A business in survival mode

For some operators, the decline is even sharper.

Akash Media, a Gazipur-based local cable operator, has been in the cable television business since 1998. At its height, the business was steady and profitable. Today, the numbers do not sound reassuring.

"Before Covid-19, say, if we had 100 customers, it has now fallen to 35," says Asif Ahamed, owner of Akash Media. "On average, we have lost around 65-70% net profit."

The reason, he explains, is hardly complicated: customers are migrating to internet platforms, where content is abundant and often easily accessible.

Content that cable operators pay for legally — foreign entertainment channels, sports broadcasts — is now accessible through a mix of licensed and unlicensed apps. "All contents are available free within the internet through both legal and illegal apps," Asif notes.

Sohel echoes that frustration at a policy level. Cable operators, he says, purchase foreign channels legally from authorised distributors and pay required fees. "However, internet service providers and certain OTT platforms are pirating this same content… selling it to customers as value-added services," he alleges.

The result, in his words, is a "massive economic imbalance" created by weak enforcement of copyright laws.

Yet, even amid decline, cable television has not entirely vanished from the scene.

The stubborn relevance of television

Despite being battered by the internet, there are moments when the big screen reasserts its authority.

Sohel points to disasters, elections, and periods of internet shutdown. "During times of election, people naturally turn on their televisions to watch live updates," he says.

Television, he argues, still offers real-time, authoritative coverage of official statements, election results, government briefings that viewers trust.

In vast stretches of semi-urban and rural Bangladesh, it remains the most accessible medium. In moments of crisis, it regains primacy. And for thousands of small entrepreneurs, it is still a livelihood, albeit an increasingly fragile one.

There is also a demographic reality. "If there is an elderly person in a household, they often cannot operate the internet easily," he says.

"For many working-class, daily wage earners who are not digitally literate, television remains the primary source of entertainment and news."

In places like a village tea stall the point becomes self-evident: men gathered before a bulky television set, cups of tea in hand, watching a Bangla film or the evening news. 

Even competition from Akash TV, the country's satellite-based Direct-to-Home service, has been less disruptive than feared. 

Mostafizur Rahman (55), a resident of Farmgate, complained about cable representatives repeatedly visiting his home, first to collect bills, then again on another day to deliver receipts. The repeated disruptions eventually became so frustrating that he decided to switch operators and move to Akash DTH.

While Akash DTH offers wireless transmission without local cables, Sohel estimates its subscriber base at around 5 lakh which is just a fraction of the overall market. "Compared to our overall market, that number is relatively small," he says.

The larger threat remains broadband and OTT.

Reinvent or recede

For local operators like Asif Ahamed, survival now demands diversification. He has already expanded into distribution, ISP services and retail shops. "We are planning to shift our focus on export-import business and software firms as well," he adds.

The pattern is visible across the sector. Many cable operators have become internet service providers. 

But COAB's central demand is digitisation.

"We want one connection entering the home. One cable, one service provider," Sohel says. Through that single connection, customers should receive cable TV, internet, IPTV, OTT services and telephone. "Technologically, this is absolutely possible if we digitise our sector."

He argues that a fully digital system with set-top boxes, transparent subscriber data and structured revenue reporting would benefit customers, operators and the government alike. "Our infrastructure is ready. What we need is clear government direction and a firm deadline," he says.

In this context, digitisation is not just a technical upgrade, it has become an existential necessity for the survival of the cable TV industry.