ANOTHER fire, another round of grief, and yet, another reminder that Bangladesh has not learned from its past. On October 14, a blaze tore through a garment factory and adjacent chemical warehouse at Rupnagar of Mirpur in Dhaka, killing at least 16 people and injuring many more. Firefighters battled for hours to bring the inferno under control, but for those trapped inside, especially on the upper floors, help came too late. Most died not from burns, but from inhaling the thick, toxic fumes released when chemicals like hydrogen peroxide and bleaching powder exploded, filling the air with poisonous smoke. The factory鈥檚 roof door, a potential escape route, was padlocked with two locks.
These were not accidental deaths. They were preventable. And like many similar disasters before, the Mirpur fire exposes the lethal blend of institutional neglect, weak enforcement and moral indifference that continues to define Bangladesh鈥檚 industrial safety landscape.
The Mirpur fire is part of a grim continuum. Cities, especially Dhaka, are dotted with unregulated chemical warehouses sitting beside homes, schools and garment factories. In 2010, the Nimtali fire claimed 124 lives when a chemical storage depot ignited in a residential block. In 2019, the Chawkbazar disaster killed 71. Each time, there were promises: the relocation of hazardous depots, stricter safety oversight, new industrial zoning. Each time, those promises faded as soon as the news cycle moved on.
Between 2019 and 2023, Bangladesh recorded over 100,000 fires nationwide, many involving chemical substances. In 2022 alone, 24,102 fires caused 85 deaths and injured nearly 400 people. Yet, these statistics hide an even deep crisis, one of impunity and systemic failure. Factories and warehouses continue to operate without safety clearances, chemical inventories or functional fire suppression systems. Inspections, when conducted, are often cursory and riddled with political influence.
The apparel industry, a pillar of the export economy, remains particularly vulnerable. Despite employing millions and contributing billions in foreign exchange, many factories operate in unsafe, converted buildings with inadequate exits and no firefighting equipment. The Mirpur plant, like many others, lacked both a fire safety plan and license. Locked exits, absence of alarms and untrained workers turn every spark into a potential catastrophe.
Behind every statistic are human lives 鈥� young workers, mostly women, who came to Dhaka seeking livelihoods and instead found death in locked rooms. Families stood outside the smouldering ruins of the Mirpur factory clutching photos of missing loved ones. Some could not identify the charred bodies.
What makes the disasters unbearable is that authorities knew this would happen again. The Fire Service had repeatedly warned about illegal chemical depots in Mirpur, Lalbagh and Shyampur. After Chawkbazar, the government launched a relocation project to move chemical warehouses to Keraniganj and later to Munshiganj. Years later, that project remains mired in bureaucratic paralysis. Temporary measures, like moving storage to Tongi, were announced but never implemented.
Political expediency, corruption and indifference have allowed these 鈥榗hemical bombs鈥� to remain embedded in residential neighbourhoods. Firefighters have repeatedly stated that 60 per cent of buildings in Dhaka are unsafe or highly risky in fire safety terms, while two-thirds violate basic building codes. These are not isolated lapses. They are the architecture of neglect.
The regulatory machinery for fire safety in Bangladesh is complex but ineffective. The Fire Service and Civil Defence, the Department of Inspection for Factories and Establishments and the industries ministry all share overlapping responsibilities. Yet coordination among them is rare. Most inspections happen post-disaster, not before.
Factory owners often ignore safety compliance to cut costs, confident that connections or bribes can shield them from consequences. On the other hand, workers rarely receive training in emergency response or chemical hazard awareness. Without fire drills, evacuation routes or protective gear, panic and confusion reign once a blaze erupts.
Moreover, the absence of a national chemical safety database leaves firefighters guessing what they are up against when they arrive at a scene. In Mirpur, toxic fumes spread rapidly because responders lacked prior knowledge of stored substances. Such ignorance can turn rescue missions into suicide operations.
Preventing another Mirpur requires more than mourning; it requires systemic reform. Every stakeholder, from policymakers to factory owners, regulators to workers, must assume responsibility.
First, the government must treat fire safety not as a bureaucratic box to tick but as a matter of national security. A central regulatory authority should be established specifically for chemical and industrial fire hazards, equipped with legal power to shut down non-compliant facilities immediately.
Second, chemical warehouses must be relocated out of residential and commercial zones without delay. This process, long stalled, must be handled through transparent, time-bound mechanisms. Industrial zoning should be restructured to ensure hazardous storage is physically segregated, with fire-rated boundaries and controlled ventilation systems.
Third, strict enforcement of building and fire codes is non-negotiable. No factory should operate without approved safety plans, valid fire licenses, and functioning evacuation routes. Digital mapping of industrial buildings and real-time monitoring systems can help inspectors verify compliance remotely.
Fourth, factory owners must invest in genuine safety infrastructure, fire alarms, hydrants, smoke detectors and emergency lighting, not just symbolic fire extinguishers. Regular fire drills should be made mandatory, with all workers participating at least quarterly.
Fifth, worker training must go beyond slogans. Employees need to understand chemical hazards, evacuation procedures, and first-aid response for toxic exposure. Partnerships with international safety organisations could introduce听 training modules, keeping to the standard of the National Fire Protection Association, tailored to Bangladesh鈥檚 industrial realities.
Finally, accountability must be uncompromising. Owners who lock exits or ignore safety codes must face criminal charges, not mere fines. Officials who issue licences to unsafe premises must be named and punished. Without visible justice, deterrence is impossible.
Every time Bangladesh burns, we promise: 鈥榥ever again鈥�. Yet every few years, we watch the same horror unfold, the same screams from locked rooms, the same grieving mothers. The Mirpur disaster, like Nimtali and Chawkbazar before it, is not just a failure of enforcement; it is a failure of conscience.
The country鈥檚 economic miracle cannot be built on ashes and tears. Industrial safety is not a luxury. It is the foundation of sustainable growth. The government鈥檚 moral duty is to protect those who build its prosperity. The private sector鈥檚 duty is to value human life over profit margins. And society鈥檚 duty is to hold both accountable.
The fire at Mirpur did not only consume a factory; it burned through the illusion that progress can coexist with neglect. If this disaster cannot awaken reform, nothing will. The question now is painfully simple: how many more lives must be lost before the government decides that no one should have to die for going to work?
听
MA Hossain is a political and defence analyst.
