Every time a factory fire, a collapsed building, or a road accident takes an innocent life, a familiar script unfolds in Bangladesh. The news breaks, officials visit the site, condolences are issued, and activists demand compensation for the victim’s family.
A few payments may follow, and then the country moves on. The same unsafe conditions remain, waiting for the next tragedy.
These deaths are routinely called “accidents,” but most are anything but. They are preventable consequences of negligence, often stemming from outright corruption, of individuals and institutions that choose not to act responsibly.
And when financial compensation replaces accountability, negligence becomes normalized. We turn human suffering into a matter of transaction rather than justice.
The law is also unambiguous. Under Section 304(a) of the Bangladesh Penal Code, causing death through a negligent or reckless act is a criminal offense. Yet in reality, “death by negligence” is almost never acknowledged or prosecuted. Whether it’s a construction worker falling from unsafe scaffolding or a garment worker trapped in a locked factory, the pattern is consistent: No one takes responsibility.
The recent tragedy near Dhaka’s Farmgate metro rail station shows this clearly. A bearing pad, a heavy metal component of the rail track, fell and killed a pedestrian, Abul Kalam, instantly. A year earlier, in the same area, an identical incident occurred.
After the first accident, authorities promised investigations and stricter maintenance. Nothing changed. A year later, it happened again. The repetition of the same event in the same place makes one thing undeniable: This was not fate; it was neglect.
The same negligence pervades Bangladesh’s factories. Between October 2024 and October 2025, at least 20 workers died in factory fires, most in garment factories and chemical warehouses that lacked fire safety certificates or had locked exits.
These numbers are not mere statistics; they represent lives lost due to a conscious disregard for safety. Owners, managers, and inspectors are legally responsible — yet no one is punished.
In the aftermath of such tragedies, public attention often shifts toward compensation. Rights groups and concerned citizens, out of empathy and frustration, rally for financial support for victims’ families.
Their efforts are crucial, especially since many families never receive even the compensation guaranteed under labour law. When the main breadwinner of a family dies, survival becomes an immediate crisis: Bills, rent, and daily sustenance suddenly become impossible burdens.
However, when the discussion stops at compensation, it risks overshadowing the real issue, accountability.
Even when families receive a small payout, one must ask: Can that money ever truly make up for the loss they endure? After the airplane crash in Ahmedabad, India, one grieving woman, whose father died in the tragedy, said, “If I give you 100 crore rupees, can you bring my father back?” She spoke in response to the airline’s announcement of compensation.
Her words expose a painful truth: The value of a life cannot be measured in money. Yet public conversation too often revolves around how much a life is worth, not why it was lost in the first place.
This misplaced focus has dangerous consequences. It turns crime into commerce, allowing those responsible to buy silence. When a factory owner offers compensation or a transport company settles quietly, the pressure to investigate fades.
The media loses interest. The authorities escape scrutiny. And the cycle of negligence continues. Compensation, meant to offer relief, ends up becoming a shield, a way to avoid justice.
This “compensation culture” benefits those who should be held accountable. It allows factory owners who ignore fire codes, contractors who skip safety protocols, and government inspectors who fail to enforce regulations to get away with hush money.
According to the Safety and Rights Society, 758 workers were killed in workplace accidents in 2024 alone, including 92 construction workers. None of these deaths was legally recognized as “death by negligence.”
There were no trials, no convictions, and in most cases, no compensation either. Each death passes into silence that protects those who profit from neglect.
Breaking this cycle requires shifting our national focus from reaction to prevention. The real demand should not be compensation after death, but protection before it.
Ensuring safe workplaces, enforcing laws, and holding authorities accountable must be the priority if we are to address this grave injustice.
Some concrete steps are essential.
First, independent safety audits should be mandatory across all factories, construction sites, and transport systems, with findings made public.
Second, legal accountability must accompany every death linked to negligence; compensation should not replace prosecution.
Finally, regulatory culture must change, safety must be treated as a moral and civic duty, not a bureaucratic checklist after tragedy strikes.
Negligence kills, but so does our silence. Every time a family accepts money in place of justice, every time a case is closed without accountability, society teaches the powerful that human life is cheap.
True justice lies in prevention, accountability, and the assurance that no worker or passerby will die because someone failed to care.
Until we stop normalizing negligence with payouts and excuses, every so-called “accident” will remain a reflection of our collective guilt.
Taslima Aktar is a senior research associate at BRAC Institute of Governance and Development (BIGD), BRAC University.
