Closing the gender gap in Bangladesh’s financial sector

In ancient warfare, if one of a chariot's two wheels was smaller, even the mightiest horses could not pull it forward. The vehicle would merely rotate around the same axis, rendered useless by imbalance. 

Similarly, if we view our economy as a chariot and depend solely on one gender to bear the brunt of its movement, we will fail to make real progress. To move forward, both genders must be equally empowered. But what can we do if the necessary infrastructure doesn't yet exist? We built it. This is why gender diversity is essential.

However, a common counterpoint often emerges, disguised as a rational argument: "If women are truly so capable, why not rely purely on meritocracy instead of handing opportunities to them as if they are some sort of charity case?" The answer lies in two words: glass ceiling.

Men, by and large, do not experience the same degree of judgement that women face—judgement that starts from a very early age. A girl child is often met with repeated denials and restrictions, while her male counterpart is given far more freedom to explore and to grow. As girls grow older, these barriers only increase. No man in Bangladesh can truthfully claim that, at some point in his life, he has never—consciously or unconsciously—uttered or tolerated a sexist remark.

Even today, if a woman receives higher marks in class or secures a promotion at work, there are still whispers suggesting she must have used her body to advance. Her clothes, her behaviour, her personality—everything is scrutinised under a microscope wielded by men, whether subtly or overtly.

To thrive, women must first shatter the glass ceiling. While there has been progress, as evidenced by near-equal male-to-female ratios in higher education, serious disparities persist in employment. For instance, despite many women graduating with honours, when it comes to recruitment in banks, the gap becomes as wide as the Grand Canyon. Why? Because of unconscious bias.

Decisions are still filtered through a sexist lens—a result of deep-rooted patriarchal mindsets. The proof lies in the fact that many recruiters continue to question whether a woman can handle a high-pressure role or view pregnancy as a liability. 

Ironically, these same men often struggle to cook a simple meal, finding tasks like boiling rice overwhelmingly difficult—yet they doubt a woman's capability to manage corporate responsibilities.

Another issue is the internalised bias many women develop. Constrained by family obligations and institutional limitations, they often hold themselves back. Even with two female prime ministers and other women in leadership roles, can we honestly say that, by 2025, we have created a safe and enabling environment for women? Absolutely not. And yet, instead of addressing these structural failures, we double down, eager to declare women unfit for leadership while actively creating obstacles in their path.

To close the gender gap, the financial sector has begun introducing policies aimed at improving gender diversity. These have proven effective. Many banks now offer maternity leave, enforce sexual harassment prevention policies, and provide transport facilities and on-site daycare centres.

These steps allow women to give their best at work without having to carry the mental burden of household responsibilities—a burden that their male colleagues often offload onto their female partners. Comparing the productivity of the two genders without accounting for these unequal burdens is like tying one swimmer's hands and then criticising them for not winning the race. Where is the merit in that?

These changes have brought mutual benefits. Organisations are now able to harness the full potential of their workforce. But let's not be too quick to pat ourselves on the back. While women's participation has increased at entry- and mid-level roles in the financial sector, especially in banking, the leadership tiers remain starkly male-dominated. When trailblazers like Humaira Azam and Rupali Chowdhury became CEOs, it sent shockwaves across the country, because before that, few could even imagine a woman leading a major organisation.

Their rise was groundbreaking. Yet, did it lead to a significant shift in societal attitudes? No. Even as we idolised figures like Indra Nooyi and Sheryl Sandberg from afar and asked, "Where is our Indra Nooyi?", once we had our own, we clung to the same tired, outdated beliefs. Hypocrisy much?

Even when a woman breaks the glass ceiling and earns a position of influence, she often finds herself confined to token roles with minimal growth potential. Worse still, some are valued more for their appearance than their intellect. For example, if a woman is deemed conventionally attractive and possesses strong analytical skills, she may still be assigned to client-facing roles to "make use of her looks" rather than her brain. This is a grotesque misuse of talent, rooted in objectification rather than merit.

Despite the numerous gender equality trainings and workshops, such biases remain deeply embedded. Consider the persistent tropes about "girl math" or the tired joke that women can't manage money. We need not go back to Ada Lovelace, the first programmer and a brilliant mathematician, to counter these claims. 

Just observe any woman bargaining in New Market, Chadni Chawk, or with a local vegetable vendor. Their charm, wit, and intricate understanding of the market would put many men to shame. And these very skills are invaluable in treasury operations, as well as B2B and B2C negotiations in banking.

There's also a domestic lens to this. In many households, even when the man is the sole earner, it is the homemaker who runs the finances. She decides which bills to pay, how much to save, and what to spend on the children. That's not just budgeting—that's financial management. That's diversification in practice. And yet, we continue to question women's capabilities?

Returning to the chariot analogy: every time a highly educated, capable woman, who can outshine many of her male peers, is forced to retreat due to artificial, man-made barriers, we are not just holding back a woman. We are crippling the economy. Raising a child is not just a family's responsibility; the entire nation, its economy, and its future rest on that child's potential. 

And if men truly believe themselves to be the stronger gender, why are they so afraid of fair competition? Why the need for backhanded remarks, gatekeeping, and sabotage if we are genuinely superior? What are we really afraid of?

Is the problem that women are incapable? Or is it our own patriarchal, fragile, self-righteous male ego?

Galib Nakib Rahman is an engineer turned finance enthusiast. He can be reached at galibnakibrahman@gmail.com.

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.