How safe are we in this city of concrete promises? It's very pathetic a man walks under a metro line and dies in an accident that occurred because of negligence. Within seconds, his life ended, not in a road crash or a fire, but from a piece of metal meant to make our metro rail safer. A load-bearing pad designed to absorb vibration came loose and crushed him. How ironic that something built for safety became a weapon of death.
So, who takes responsibility? Will anyone? Or will this tragedy fade like all the others in this city full of negligence and excuses?
Dhaka's metro rail was introduced as a symbol of developing Bangladesh, a project of pride and progress. Yet, progress that kills cannot be celebrated. This isn't the first time a bearing pad has fallen. Thirteen months ago, another one came loose, halting service for hours. Experts had already warned of design flaws.
But warnings in this country fade faster than the victims. No lessons were learned, and no real reforms followed. Now, one more life is gone.
As usual authorities formed another five-member committee, set another two-week deadline, and issued another Facebook apology.
But who trusts these committees anymore?
Reports come in, promises are made, and then forgotten. Accountability disappears faster than our hope for justice.
A human life is not a technical fault. Yet the system treats it like one something that can be fixed with a few words and a few lacs of Taka in compensation. Five lacs Taka for a man's life. Is that what we've come to? Is that the price of being a citizen of this country today?
In consolation, the Road Transport and Bridges Adviser promised a job for one of his family members, full funeral costs, and financial support. Will that bring Kalam back?
Will that stop next bearing pad from falling? Or the next flyover from collapsing? Or the next road accident that kills dozens every week?
According to recent data from Bangladesh Jatri Kalyan Samity (BJKS), country has lost more than 116,000 lives in road accidents over the past 12 years. That's not just a number; it's families shattered, children orphaned, and dreams buried under wheels, bricks, and steel. How many more have to die before safety becomes a priority and not an afterthought?
Why do our leaders still sound like broken records, promising investigations and compensation instead of real reform?
When citizens are killed by very infrastructure meant to help them, it's not an accident; it's a failure of governance. It shows that human lives hold little value in policymaking. In this country safety is treated as charity, not a right.
We love to boast about development of metro rails, flyovers, expressways. But what is the use of these concrete symbols of progress when the foundations of responsibility and safety are so weak? A country is not rebuilt by structures alone; it's rebuilt by systems that protect people.
Metro rail's pad shouldn't fall. Not in a city that dreams of becoming smart and developed. Not in a nation that claims to have moved past its corrupt, careless past. Yet here we are again, mourning another life lost to preventable failure.
Safety cannot remain a privilege for a few. It must become a basic national standard. Each citizen has right to step out of their home without fear of death from poor design or maintenance.
So, who will answer for the victims? Who will face the consequences? Will the committee's report be another document gathering dust in a ministry cabinet? Or will this be the moment we finally say enough?
Progress loses its meaning when human life becomes disposable. Development means nothing when our roads, bridges, and metro lines turn into death traps.
We don't need more condolences. We need safety and accountability. We need a nation where living itself doesn't feel like a gamble. Until that happens, every shiny new project will carry a message of negligence.
The writer is an Editorial Assistant, The Daily Observer
