The price of progress: What the metro changed in Diabari

"Diabari was a breathing space for us. Now every time I go there, I reminisce about how much greener it used to be. All I see today is more and more buildings," lamented Arisha Islam, a university student who has lived in Uttara her entire life."

She remembers Diabari as a place where she could escape the din of the city. This place felt almost like the countryside despite sitting beside Uttara's planned residential sectors. She and her family used to come here almost every weekend, when there was more greenery and fewer buildings around. So to her, these changes feel like a personal loss.

Now, she rarely comes here unless she is taking the metro. Even then, the view outside reminds her of how much the place has changed.

She is not alone in her sense of loss. There was a time when people came to Diabari to escape the chaos of Dhaka, to breathe in some fresh air and simply have a good time. In autumn, Diabari would turn white with kashful, making the place feel almost detached from the city around it.

Little carnival-like arrangements made Diabari feel like a village fair: the nagordola, swing boats, and the fuchka and chotpoti shop beside the lake. There would be ice cream stalls here and there, boat rides on the lake, a gentle breeze and the wide blue sky above.

That Diabari is getting harder to find. The metro has made the area easier to reach, and with it came restaurants, shops, apartments and construction. From the window of a metro train approaching Uttara, the change is difficult to miss.

The transformation has happened remarkably fast. Since the opening of MRT Line 6, Diabari has become one of Dhaka's fastest-changing neighbourhoods. Better connectivity has attracted businesses, developers and investors, and land values and rents continue to rise.

But the more we spoke with residents, business owners, planners and government officials, the more we realised how complicated the change is than it first appears. The metro brought accessibility and investment, but it also sped up construction in an area that planning documents had long identified as environmentally sensitive.

Diabari's wetlands have long absorbed rainwater from surrounding areas. As more of this low-lying land is filled, that natural drainage system is gradually shrinking. The impact could become more visible during heavy rainfall, when surrounding areas grow more vulnerable to waterlogging, a problem Dhaka residents already know all too well each monsoon.

Parts of Diabari were meant to absorb floodwater, not be covered with concrete. As open land continues to disappear, that planning vision is becoming harder to recognise. The metro accelerated the transformation; whether the city was prepared for its consequences is another question.

Few people have witnessed that transformation more closely than MD Saddam Hossen. As manager of Surjo Dighol Bari, a restaurant near Uttara North Metro Station, he has seen the area change since the metro opened.

Hossen said only two businesses operated nearby before the metro. Today, around ten compete in the same area, drawn by the steady flow of commuters from the station.

Retail has grown too. Md Naim Sikdar, a salesperson at a nearby shop, said his workplace was among the area's first export-clothing shops after metro services began. Growing foot traffic helped the business attract customers.

The metro has changed Diabari's business landscape, bringing more customers and more competition.

For residents, perhaps the clearest sign of Diabari's transformation is not the skyline but the rent.

Apartments that rented for around Tk15,000 two or three years ago are now being advertised for nearly Tk25,000, according to residents.

"There isn't even a shopping mall or a hospital nearby. But rents keep increasing," said Kaniz Fatema, a Diabari resident.

Commercial rents have also risen to Tk40,000–Tk50,000 a month, even though many roads remain unfinished and muddy during heavy rain.

Sikdar, the salesperson, also rents locally: he pays Tk14,000 for a two-room house. Nearby properties that once rented for Tk6,000 now cost Tk9,000–Tk10,000, he said.

Landlords say the higher rents reflect Diabari's growing market value. Residents disagree, pointing to the area's unfinished infrastructure. Diabari is getting more expensive faster than it is getting developed.

The businesses, rising rents and construction sites tell only part of Diabari's story.

To many, the change may seem inevitable: a metro station arrives, investment follows, and open land turns into another urban neighbourhood. But urban planners see it differently.

According to Adil Muhammad Khan, president of the Bangladesh Institute of Planners (BIP), Diabari was never simply vacant land waiting for development. The area had been identified as environmentally sensitive long before MRT Line 6 was built.

"Diabari was designated as a water body, wetland and flood-flow zone under the 1995 Dhaka Structure Plan," Khan said. "These areas were supposed to remain protected because they perform an important function during the monsoon."

The low-lying land stores rainwater, slows runoff and helps drain surrounding areas during heavy rainfall. Filling these wetlands, Khan said, means removing part of the city's natural drainage system.

"The problem isn't the metro," he said. "The metro created demand, but demand should have been managed through planning."

Khan said the planning framework already existed; what failed was enforcement. He pointed to Uttara Third Phase as an early example.

"RAJUK itself violated the Structure Plan when it developed Uttara Third Phase," he said. "Once the planning authority ignored the plan, others followed."

In Khan's view, the metro accelerated a process that had already begun. As land values rose, development spread faster than the institutions meant to regulate it.

"As soon as the metro came, universities, garment factories and private developers started filling land. RAJUK completely neglected its responsibility to control that development," Khan said.

Construction now stretches across much of Diabari, replacing parts of the open landscape with apartments, commercial spaces and roads.

For Khan, the issue is not whether the city should grow.

"No city can stop developing," he said. "The question is where development should happen and where it should not."

However, RAJUK rejects the suggestion that Diabari lacks planning.

SM Ehsanul Imam, an authorised officer of RAJUK, said development in the area is governed by the Detailed Area Plan (DAP) 2022–2035, which sets out where construction is allowed and where environmentally sensitive land must remain protected.

"The DAP clearly identifies flood-flow zones and water bodies," Imam said. "Development has to follow those guidelines."

The DAP map still marks parts of Diabari as flood-flow zones, alongside areas designated for residential and commercial development.

At the same time, efforts are underway to add green space to the changing landscape. Beside Diabari Lake, DNCC is developing a Miyawaki forest using the Japanese method of dense native planting.

The project covers 3.2 acres, with around 53,400 trees planned. More than 39,400 saplings have already been planted across 2.6 acres, with nearly 250 native species. The first phase was completed between November 2025 and January 2026, while the second and third phases were inaugurated on 18 May 2026.

The project suggests environmental protection has not been entirely abandoned. But the pace of construction elsewhere raises doubts about how consistently that protection will be enforced.

Khan said enforcement remains the central problem: the rules exist, but implementation does not follow. He also pointed out that the responsibility extends beyond RAJUK to other government agencies.

"The City Corporation, the Department of Environment, the Water Development Board, the District Administration and even the police have roles to play. But everyone waits for someone else to act."

Diabari's wetlands have long absorbed rainwater from surrounding areas. As more of this low-lying land is filled, that natural drainage system is gradually shrinking. The impact could become more visible during heavy rainfall, when surrounding areas grow more vulnerable to waterlogging, a problem Dhaka residents already know all too well each monsoon.

The government may eventually spend thousands of crores solving problems that better planning could have prevented.

Diabari is changing, and much of that change is tied to the metro. But development itself is not the problem. The question is whether the city can decide where development belongs and protect the land that serves a different purpose.

Diabari's future will depend on that balance, and on whether the plans drawn on paper can survive what is happening on the ground.