When killing becomes a hobby: What the Munshiganj incident tells us about law, society and our failing conscience
Across South Asia, conservation practitioners have learnt a difficult truth: laws alone do not change behaviour. Real change begins only when communities themselves begin to care, take matters into their own hands
In Munshiganj's wetlands, thousands of migratory birds fell in a single day- shot down, collected in seven sacks and reduced to lifeless four maunds weight. The hunters were not desperate villagers or shadowy poachers operating in secrecy. The accused are Lieutenant Colonel (Retd.) A.S.M. Hadiul Islam Bhuiya, 81, Abrar Uddin Ahmed, 70, Haji Osman Ali, 77, Majharul Haq Qureshi, 70, Abdullah Noor, 72 and Arik Ahmed, 27. Considering confessions and age, Bhuiya was fined Tk100,000 while the other five were fined Tk30,000 each. Authorities also confiscated the firearms and 63 rounds of ammunition used in the hunt.
Among them, the retired army officer said he had no harmful intentions and hunted purely as a hobby. A hobby.
That single statement reveals more than any statistic or legal document ever could. It exposes a crisis not only of enforcement, but of attitude—where the destruction of life is casual, normalised, even recreational.
Bangladesh however, has national laws and regulations protecting wildlife within the jurisdictional boundary. The Wildlife (Preservation and Security) Ordinance 2025 (it replaced the Act of 2012) clearly prohibits the hunting, trapping or killing of migratory birds.
The country is also a signatory to international frameworks like CITES and the Convention on Migratory Species. On paper, the protections exist, however, in practice, the punishment handed down in Munshiganj- fines amounting to little more than a minor inconvenience, signals something else entirely: that these lives do not matter enough.
Many are suggesting to opt for stricter laws and legal actions. But to stop at the law would be to misunderstand the problem altogether.
For years, illegal hunting has continued across Bangladesh's wetlands despite legal prohibitions. The reasons are well known: weak enforcement, lack of awareness and most critically, a deep-seated disregard for wildlife. The Munshiganj incident is not an exception, it is rather a symptom.
What we need to realise is when someone can kill thousands of birds and call it a hobby, the failure is not only legal, it is societal and to a great extent structural. It reflects an absence of empathy, a disconnect from nature and a dangerous belief that non-human life exists solely for human use.
Across South Asia, conservation practitioners have learned a difficult truth: laws alone do not change behaviour. Real change begins only when communities themselves begin to care, take matters into their own hands.
For example, in parts of our neighbouring India, organisations have worked with hunting-prone communities not by imposing punishment alone, but by building awareness and trust over time.
Villagers who once participated in poaching are now reporting it. Religious leaders, imams, elders and respected voices are engaged to speak against hunting, often with far greater impact than distant government directives. These are not quick fixes, they are slow, deliberate efforts to reshape how people see wildlife.
Community-based conservation initiatives have shown that when local people are treated not as offenders but as stewards, the results can be transformative. On Sonadia Island, local communities have been involved in protecting rare migratory birds, acting as the first line of defence against threats. Elsewhere, the idea of "citizen patrols" has emerged— ordinary people taking responsibility for monitoring and safeguarding their own ecosystems.
These approaches draw on something often overlooked: indigenous and local knowledge. For generations, communities living alongside wetlands, forests and rivers have understood the rhythms of nature— the arrival of birds, the balance of ecosystems, the signs of disruption. When empowered, they can become the strongest allies in conservation.
There are also technologically innovative tools, drone surveillance to monitor remote wetlands, incentive programmes that publicly recognise conservation efforts, and community reporting systems that turn passive observers into active protectors.
Wildlife conservationists and lawyers agree that technology plays a vital role in monitoring regulation procedures, tracking wildlife movement, analysing crime data and criminal activity, and patrol zones.
The use of technology allows wildlife custodians to collect critical information to pinpoint hotspots, guide patrols, observe migration patterns that may be prime areas for poaching, and map the trafficking routes. The data accumulated by technology proves worthy of detection and wildlife crime investigation efforts.
But even these tools depend on a few things: a shift in mindset, recognition and incentive. Because at its core, this is not just an environmental issue, it is a moral one and to keep people motivated to do the right thing continuous efforts, active listening, showing alternate pathways to sustain, proper acknowledgement and collaboration are required.
What we need to realise is when someone can kill thousands of birds and call it a hobby, the failure is not only legal, it is societal and to a great extent structural. It reflects an absence of empathy, a disconnect from nature and a dangerous belief that non-human life exists solely for human use.
Stronger laws are necessary. Penalties must be proportionate to the scale of harm, and enforcement must be consistent and impartial. But without a parallel transformation in public consciousness and structural change, such measures will remain insufficient.
The tragedy in Munshiganj is not just that birds were killed. It is that their killing was so easily justified. It's about time to think beyond laws and use a multitude of approaches that take these concerns into account to holistically tackle the problem, permanently, in the long run.
National authorities and organisations should lean towards technological interventions, community guarding programmes, incentive programmes for locals for their contribution to the environment and wildlife protection etc.
Many of these initiatives are already in operation but often due to limited resources and budget constraints the efforts suffer. In Bangladesh, the primary authority responsible for monitoring and regulating the hunting of migratory birds is the Bangladesh Forest Department (BFD), which operates under the Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change (MoEFCC).
For the 2025–2026 fiscal year, the Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change proposed an allocation of Tk2,144 crore which was approved as part of Bangladesh's national budget. Part of this budget can be utilised in focusing on a mix of high-tech enforcement, community-led protection and long-term habitat restoration.
What we need is not only regulation, but a movement- a collective reimagining of our relationship with the natural world. One where wildlife is not seen as expendable, but as essential; not as targets, but as co-inhabitants of a shared ecosystem. The uncomfortable truth here is laws can regulate behaviour, but they cannot manufacture compassion, and we cannot afford to overlook such despicable acts anymore.
S Arzooman Chowdhury is an Alumnus of the University of Cambridge. She is a Human Rights and Research Specialist.
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.
