Beyond survival: Rethinking Bangladesh’s path to a fair and resilient future

Bangladesh was not born out of negotiation or compromise; it emerged through bloodshed and sacrifice.

Countless families never recovered the bodies of their sons. Mothers learned to live with unanswered questions. Villages carried trauma long after the fighting ended. Independence gave us a flag, but it also gave us a responsibility to build something worthy of that pain.

For a long time, our ambition was simple. We wanted to survive.

That instinct went on to shape the country. Farmers worked fragile land. Workers filled factories with discipline and patience. Entrepreneurs built businesses in an environment that rarely rewarded risk. Slowly, almost stubbornly, Bangladesh moved forward. Poverty declined. Exports grew. The country earned a reputation for resilience.

We began to understand our possibilities.

But survival has a cost. When a nation survives for too long without reflection, it begins to tolerate things it should not.

In recent years, many Bangladeshis have felt this unease. The economy kept growing, but daily life felt harder. Prices rose faster than incomes. Jobs became scarce for young graduates. Institutions that should have protected fairness felt distant or selective. People adapted because adaptation is what we do best.

Then came the rupture of 2024.

Young people did not take to the streets because they were reckless or romantic. They sensed that the future was being quietly narrowed. That merit mattered less than access. That obedience was being rewarded over integrity. They stood their ground, often at great personal cost, because dignity matters more than comfort.

That moment changed the country. It should also change how we think about growth.

Bangladesh is now approaching graduation from least developed country status. This is not a symbolic milestone. It means tougher competition, fewer trade advantages, and higher expectations. The easy phase of growth is ending. The next phase will demand discipline, innovation, and trust.

The state cannot deliver this alone.

The private sector has always been central to Bangladesh's progress. It created jobs when the state could not. It built export industries from scratch. It absorbed millions into formal work. These achievements should be acknowledged honestly.

But the next chapter requires a different kind of leadership from business.

Responsible private sector growth is not about charity or public relations. It is about recognising that long-term success depends on social stability, trust, and fairness. Businesses cannot thrive in a society where young people feel excluded, workers feel disposable, and institutions feel captured.

This is not ideology. It is pragmatism.

Take the apparel sector. It remains the backbone of the economy and a source of national pride. But competing only on low wages and volume is no longer sustainable. The future lies in skills, productivity, and value creation. Workers who are treated with respect perform better. Factories that invest in safety and training are more resilient. These are not moral arguments alone; they are business realities.

The same applies beyond apparel. Agriculture, logistics, healthcare, and technology will shape the next decade. These sectors need entrepreneurs who think beyond short-term extraction, who reinvest profits, who build systems rather than shortcuts, and who understand that proximity to power is not a strategy.

There is also the question of the environment, which we have postponed for too long. Dhaka's air is dangerous. Rivers are treated as dumping grounds. Growth that destroys the conditions of life is not success; it is deferred failure.

Victory was not won so that a few could prosper while many endure. It was won so that Bangladeshis could live with dignity, voice, and opportunity.

That responsibility now rests not only with politicians but also with employers, investors, and business leaders. A strong private sector must see itself as a custodian of the future, not just a beneficiary of the present.

The task of 1971 was to win freedom. The task of today is quieter, harder, and less heroic: to build an economy that is fair enough to be trusted, strong enough to compete, and humane enough to endure.

If we get that right, Victory or Independence Day will never feel routine again.

Mamun Rashid, chairman at Financial Excellence Ltd., is the first Bangladeshi CEO in a global bank and the founding managing partner of PwC Bangladesh.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.