M. A. Hossain,
People in Bangladesh are not dying solely from poverty—they are dying under the crushing weight of cruelty, superstition, and hypocrisy. Three recent incidents have laid bare the nakedness of our collective moral bankruptcy. They are not isolated tragedies; they are symptoms of a deeply unhealthy social structure and of our contempt for the very religious principles we claim to follow. In this society, justice for the weak is absent, while even crimes committed by the powerful are rewarded.
In Paba, Rajshahi, a man named Minarul strangled his wife, his school-age son, and his eighteen-month-old daughter before taking his own life. The reason— debt. A father’s instinct is to protect his children at any cost. How does he cross the psychological Rubicon to become their killer? The answer lies in the pitiless reality of the society we have built.
But here is the real question—how is it that in a country where 90% of the population are Muslims, no one could save a man from being driven to this end by debt? Islam’s injunctions are clear: aiding the debtor is a duty of every Muslim. One of the very purposes of zakat is to pay off the debts of the impoverished. And yet in practice, we see millions spent on decorative lighting for mosques, while a poor family next door ends their lives, becoming nothing more than a topic for idle gossip. More dangerous than poverty itself is the social indifference and cruelty that surrounds it. The real cause of such deaths is not the financial crisis—it is the death of religious conscience.
In Faridpur, a young man suspected of theft was hung upside down and beaten. The video went viral, with people cheering—as if a new definition of justice had been born. Yet that “thief” has not been convicted in any court. Whether he is guilty or not, such treatment is inhuman and a clear violation of the law.
The irony is that this same society displays such “bravery” only against the poor and powerless. These men never muster the courage to point a finger at the thieves among the powerful. The nation knows the scale of corruption by figures like Salman F Rahman or Giasuddin Al Mamun, yet no one dares to touch a hair on their bodies. Some may protest—“But haven’t they been brought to court?” Yes, we know the political and personal calculations behind those arrests. Our justice is little more than stagecraft—where the villain is always the weak man, and the real criminals remain behind the curtain.
In Natore, Assistant Professor Khairun Nahar married her student Mamun, who was half her age—a marriage fully valid both legally and religiously. The Prophet Muhammad (SW) first married Khadijah (RA), who was older than him and twice widowed. She is honored in the Qur’an among the righteous.
So why did society push Khairun Nahar to her death? Why did her marriage unleash a storm of poisonous remarks, slander, and ridicule across social media? The answer is simple—our society is still trapped in the age of Jahiliyyah. In those times, a woman’s personal choices were tried in the court of public opinion; they still are. Then, as now, superstition and social stigma destroyed lives.
Those who drove Khairun Nahar to death are the same filthy-minded hypocrites who speak religion with their tongues but cling to Jahiliyyah in their way of life. We think we are modern—with our smartphones, Facebook statuses, and imported brands—but in our thinking we remain in an age where people were killed for defying custom. Then, blood was spilled by the sword; now, it is spilled by the venom of a keyboard or the crushing weight of social ostracism.
In the age of Jahiliyyah, baby girls were buried alive. Today, we carry forward that murderous mentality in different forms. Then, the crimes of the rich and powerful were forgiven; now, it is the same. The only difference is that then the desert’s dust covered the crime—today, it is the “loopholes of law,” “social hypocrisy,” and “political umbrellas.”
In our society, justice is a one-sided weapon—thrust deep into the weak, but hidden in the fist when it comes to the strong. We can beat a poor youth suspected of theft in public, but we will not raise our voices against the big thieves. We will not stand by a farmer drowning in debt, but we will write off millions in unpaid loans for the elite. We will pounce on a woman’s personal decisions in the name of morality, but say nothing about the moral collapse of disgraced politicians.
This double standard is not merely killing our sense of justice—it is unleashing a tsunami of moral bankruptcy across society. Since this is a Muslim-majority country, the solution lies most naturally in return to genuine religious principles. Islam is not merely the religion of prayer and fasting—it is a complete way of life that gives specific guidance on economics, justice, family relations, and social conduct.
The solution requires four levels of action. First, in families, children must be taught that standing by a debt-ridden relative is a moral and religious duty, so that no one faces financial crisis alone. Second, individually, we must cultivate empathy that prevents anyone from being driven to suicide by debt, poverty, or public humiliation. Third, socially, the rule of law must be firmly established to end the barbarity of “mob justice” and bring even the powerful under legal scrutiny. Finally, at the state level, there must be binding duties toward citizens, effective social safety nets, and uncompromising action against corruption—so that justice exists not just on paper but in reality.
A poor rickshaw puller should not pay inflated prices for basic necessities just so the head of government can live in air-conditioned palaces and ride in luxury cars. The owner of the state should not sleep on the street while its servants live in lavish mansions and buy property abroad. The highest-ranking secretary must address the country’s farmers with respect—yes, even call them “Sir.” Our Muslim society and our rulers seem to have forgotten the name of Umar ibn al-Khattab (RA), who governed half the known world and yet feared being held accountable before Almighty for the hunger of a single goat. Possibly, our rulers also have forgotten whose herds of camels and goats would have needed grasslands the size of our nation to feed.
If we truly embody Islam not just in name but in action, such tragedies will diminish. We must remember—if we remain silent in the face of society’s decay today, tomorrow we too may be its victims. The time is now—to break this darkness of Jahiliyyah and walk toward the light. Otherwise, history will condemn us as part of the same filthy society that soaked itself in the blood of the weak while laying flowers under the feet of the powerful. Bangladesh is living proof of that truth. And unless we change course now, it will also be our epitaph. As Martin Luther King Jr. said: “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about the things that matter.”
M A Hossain, political and defense analyst based in Bangladesh. He can be reached at: writetomahossain@gmail.com
This article published at :
1. New Age, BD : 17 Aug, 25
2. The Asian Age, BD : 19 August, 25
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