The termination of the job of women information service officers is a policy failure rather than merely a bureaucratic decision. Pushing about 2,000 women into uncertainty despite their service undermines social cohesion and questions governance, writes Rafia Tamanna
ON THE footpath outside the National Press Club, nearly 2,000 women have sat in for more than a month. They are information officers, or tathya apa, employed under a government project aimed at ‘empowering women through ICT’ across rural areas. As the second phase of the project comes to an end, so do their jobs, too. They demand regularisation of their job in positions under the revenue budget and the return of more than Tk 20 crore that was deducted from their salary without explanation. The question at the heart of this protest is not only about one single project. It is about whether the government sees women’s labour as integral to governance or merely temporary and expendable.
The women and children affairs ministry conceived and implemented the ‘tathya apa’ project. From its inception, the development project proposal mentioned that these women, hired as information service officers and assistant officers, would either be made regularised or absorbed under the revenue sector by creating positions. The clause was not incidental. It was, in fact, a core part of the project’s vision: to develop a skilled cadre of grassroots-level public service agents capable of using digital tools to support rural women in accessing a range of services, including health care, housing, legal services and economic platforms.
That vision, however, has unravelled. Despite repeated verbal assurances from authorities over seven years, these women now face blanket dismissal. The ministry has also proposed a third phase of the project, but it is one that will rely on outsourced staff rather than retaining the existing work force.
From assisting with diabetes and oxygen-level checks during household visits to holding courtyard meetings on child marriage and legal rights, their role blends preventative care, community education and rights-based facilitation in ways no outsourced model can, perhaps, replicate. This raises immediate policy questions: why is a trained, embedded and court-tested work force are replaced and why is outsourcing, an approach fraught with risks of mismanagement, preferred?
The pattern here is not unfamiliar. In project-based governance, frontline workers often remain structurally vulnerable. What makes the case of these women information service officers notable is the scale of contradiction between the government’s stated goals and current action. These women have not only delivered services but also become the human infrastructure through which the government reaches rural women. They have supported victims of domestic violence, assisted elderly women in accessing benefits, enabled micro-entrepreneurs to enter e-commerce and guided citizens through complex bureaucratic procedures. In effect, they have functioned as local anchors of governance.
Yet, the institutional logic applied to them is one of disposability. Their salary was unilaterally slashed four months after appointment, without any explanation in writing. From April 2019 onwards, they have received significantly less than their contracted pay. When they moved to the court in 2022, the verdict was in their favour. The government has, however, yet to return the money deducted. In total, more than Tk 20 crore, budgeted in the original project proposal, has gone unaccounted for. Where the money went remains an unanswered question.
Instead of addressing the substance of the demands, relevant government officials have chosen a path of deflection. At a meeting on July 4 with representatives of the protesting workers, Sharmin S Murshid, adviser to the interim government on women and children affairs, stated: ‘You are embarrassing the government… This is what blackmail is.’ She has added that the protesters include ‘beneficiaries of the previous regime’ who are ‘harassing the current government.’ Asked about the status of their demands, she said: ‘I cannot promise that the positions will be regularised. Many ministries are involved… It will take time.’
What emerges from the remarks is a familiar bureaucratic tactic: delaying the decision, shifting the responsibility and politicising the protest. The women do not demand favours. They demand that terms outlined in state documents and affirmed by court order be honoured. Instead of engagement, they have been met with injury. When they tried to hold a peaceful march on May 26, police assaulted several of them, including pregnant and women with disabilities.
This, too, follows a pattern. While officials at the top transition seamlessly into new roles, field workers are left without protection. While the government expands public administration budgets and hires foreign consultants, it refuses to create new positions for the people who have already done the work. And while the interim government positions itself as a reformist response to the July uprising, it continues the same structural practices that prioritise administrative hierarchy over social equity.
There is a deeper incoherence here. Bangladesh, like many countries, has adopted Sustainable Development Goal 5, which deals with gender equality, as a guiding principle in its policy framework. For more than a decade, women’s empowerment projects have been central to this agenda. But empowerment cannot mean extracting labour from women under temporary contracts only to discard them when the projects end. Nor can it mean silencing those who demand accountability. If empowerment is to mean anything, it must begin with institutional recognition.
The current treatment of ‘tathya apas’ also reflects a political mood that demands conformity rather than conversation. When field-level women workers are called ‘Awami garbage’ or ‘blackmailers,’ the implication is that their credibility is nullified by perceived political proximity. This logic is not only flawed but also dangerous. It delegitimises dissent by labelling it as partisan and, in doing so, obstructs the possibility of institutional self-correction.
No project, however visionary, can succeed without its human base. The women information service officers are not external to governance. They are governance. The termination of their job is a policy failure rather than merely a bureaucratic decision. Pushing about 2,000 women into uncertainty despite their service undermines social cohesion and questions governance at a time when Bangladesh experiences high unemployment and social unrest.
This is where reform must begin if the government is sincere about it. Their demands are not exceptional but rational, lawful and economically sound. Creating positions under the revenue sector would prevent the cost of retraining and mitigate service disruption. Refunding the deducted wages would comply with court rulings and restore public trust. Above all, listening to the voice of these women would send out a signal that the state is capable of evolving, not only in rhetoric but also in structure.
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Rafia Tamanna is an editorial assistant at ¶¶Òõ¾«Æ·.
