What a journo’s death reveals about the hidden stresses in this profession

Sketch: TBS

The body of veteran journalist Bibhuranjan Sarkar was recovered from the Meghna River in Char Balaki area of Munshiganj's Gazaria on 22 August, two days after going missing. His lifeless body was drifting like a logwood, waiting to sail into oblivion. 

Bibhuranjan, 71, a senior assistant editor at the Bangla daily Ajker Patrika and a columnist on current affairs, emailed an article to bdnews24.com at 9:15am on 21 August before leaving his Siddheshwari residence, adding in the footnote: "You may publish this as the last writing of my life." The article, titled "Khola Chithi", or "Open Letter", was later published and widely circulated on social media, turning into a cause célèbre overnight.  

He wrote in his letter, "I am Bibhuranjan Sarkar, working in the editorial department of Ajker Patrika. I've been connected with journalism for over five decades. I have witnessed numerous changes in the country, movements, mass uprisings, and political upheavals. Throughout this long journey, I have written in favour of truth, the people, and the country. 

"But today, when I look at my own life, I feel—living by the truth is not easy. My profession has taught me that telling the truth means taking risks with courage. During my student life, while serving as the Assistant Secretary of the Central Committee of the Bangladesh Students' Union, I learned that sometimes one has to remain anonymous. To speak the truth often means putting one's life in danger. During Ershad's regime and various political movements, it took immense courage to write. We—journalists like myself—used pseudonyms, not for personal gain, but for safety." 

His last messages echo in our ears like those divine words that have brought to the fore the real struggles that journalists face in their profession. Safety has always been an issue for journalists in Bangladesh, turning journalism into one of the riskiest professions in our country. No wonder why Bangladesh was among the top four deadliest countries for journalists in 2024, according to an annual report by Reporters Without Borders (RSF) published on 12 December last. 

Bibhuranjan went on to say, "My political ideals and ethical integrity in journalism never pushed me towards personal luxury or comfort. I was driven by only one thing—a sense of responsibility. I have, to the best of my knowledge, never neglected my duty. I have never shirked my responsibility. I may not be an extraordinarily brave person, but no one could ever intimidate me into writing anything against my principles.

"The challenges of journalism today are of a different kind. Many now write—driven by self-interest, an urge to elevate social status, or secure financial gain—hiding the truth. Though I sometimes used a pseudonym, I never concealed the truth. Perhaps that is why, even after more than five decades in this profession, I do not receive a respectable salary or benefits… and so, I have no option but to live on debt." 

"I write because I know journalism means courage. Speaking the truth means risking one's life. My long experience tells me that to write the truth, one must sometimes sacrifice personal comfort. I never wanted such comfort. But I also never wanted to spend a lifetime with my hands outstretched in need", added Bibhuranjan in his letter. 

"Let sorrow be the final companion of my life." 

These final words reveal so much about the situation of journalists in our country, their mental health and the perils of journalism in Bangladesh. 

Some deaths descend upon us like a crash of thunder—jolting us out of inertia and lobotomising our senses. The news of journalist Bibhuranjan's demise struck the journalist community of Bangladesh just like that. His letter dropped like a bombshell not because of his death under mysterious conditions but owing to the contents of the letter that laid bare the brutal truth of journalism in Bangladesh. 

"The challenges of journalism today are of a different kind. Many now write—driven by self-interest, an urge to elevate social status, or secure financial gain—hiding the truth. Though I sometimes used a pseudonym, I never concealed the truth. Perhaps that is why, even after more than five decades in this profession, I do not receive a respectable salary or benefits… and so, I have no option but to live on debt."

Journalist Bibhuranjan Sarkar

In his final words to life, he held up a mirror to a profession that once carried the noblest of dreams—only to show how hollow, disoriented, emotionally manipulated, and painfully unprofessional it has become. A world (journalism) that is slowly draining the life out of those who still dare to hold onto their integrity. 

In society, journalists are often hailed as "the conscience of the nation." But when the month ends, school fees of the kids remain due, railroading many journalists into borrowing money from close acquaintances just to send his children to school. All of a sudden when the story of a struggling journalist gets revealed or some Bibhuranjan dies, only then do we talk about the afflictions of the journalists. Other times, we (the society, the state and all other stakeholders) turn a blind eye to their suffering. 

That is the tragic part of journalism. 

Referring to Bibhuranjan's open letter, one must ask—what about the rest of the journalists? Are they not frustrated too? 

Everyone knows the answer. Except for a few sycophants and opportunists, no one in this profession is truly doing well. Even those with decent pay live under immense psychological pressure. Those working in this sector have to face multi-faceted threats from different segments as if the sword of Damocles is always hanging over their heads.

Journalists not only face pressure from state agencies but also are subjected to rigorous scrutiny by the readers. Even when they publish the truth, some quarters come down heavily on them for maintaining objectivity if the particular news does not serve their interests. A quick look at the comment section of social media posts by different news outlets will further clarify this point.  

Forget everything else—just look at the salary structure. In most media houses, there is no structure at all. Wages are determined not by skill, not by responsibility or workload, but by proximity—how close one is to the boss, whether they are a friend, a relative, or someone who serves the management's interests. That's all that matters. 

Outside Dhaka, the situation is even more dire. Journalists working in regional areas are paid a pittance—sometimes irregularly, sometimes not at all. To survive, they are forced to take up other professions or resort to illicit practice like extortion. 

As for the countless seasonal and online outlets—most of them aren't even bothered about paying their journalists. There are only a handful of leading Bangla and English daily newspapers who are implementing wage boards for the journalists; rest of the media houses—including online portals and broadsheets—are pulling wool over everyone's eyes by resorting to different shenanigans. 

The only thing that's constant in this profession is mental stress that often goes unnoticed by the community, colleagues and even family members. Bibhuranjan Sarkar's death is a cruel reminder of how journalists work in precarious situations and how their personal as well as professional lives are still fraught with risks and stresses that are mostly overlooked.