
EVERY day, 66 lives are lost on Bangladesh’s roads. The number is not just a statistic. It is a collective national tragedy unfolding with disturbing regularity. Families are torn apart, children are orphaned and the country’s human capital continues to erode silently under the crushing weight of road crashes. The sheer scale of the carnage reveals a crisis that has long escaped serious political attention, despite its devastating human and economic consequences.
The latest national survey commissioned by the Directorate General of Health Services on injuries has painted a grim picture. Road traffic injuries now account for the highest number of injury-related deaths in the country, far surpassing suicides, drowning and falls. The study estimates that around 24,233 people die on the roads each year, and over 30 lakh suffer non-fatal injuries. Of them, nearly 38,000 are permanently disabled, condemned to a life of pain, dependency and financial hardship. What is even more alarming is that this figure is four times higher than the official number reported by government agencies and still somewhat lower than the global estimate provided by international bodies. The wide disparity in numbers exposes the chronic underreporting and data manipulation that have plagued Bangladesh’s road safety narrative for decades.
Behind every number lies an untold story. A father crushed by a speeding truck while returning home, a child run over while crossing the street, a young worker maimed in a collision between unfit buses racing for passengers. These are not isolated incidents but rather symptoms of a deep-rooted structural failure. The roads of Bangladesh have become a lawless theatre where speed, greed and impunity play out daily. It is a tragedy that is both preventable and persistent.
The rise in road crash fatalities comes at a time when other forms of injury-related deaths, such as drowning and falls, have declined. Despite a marginal drop in overall injury deaths over the past decade — from over 108,000 to about 98,000 annually — road crashes have increased by more than 3 per cent. This contradiction suggests that while health interventions may have reduced deaths from other causes, road safety has been left largely unattended.
Several intertwined factors explain this failure. The first and most visible is the proliferation of unfit vehicles. A significant portion of the country’s public transport fleet operates without valid fitness certificates. Many of these vehicles, decades old and mechanically unsound, continue to ply the roads through collusion between corrupt officials and transport syndicates. The absence of regular inspections and the issuance of fraudulent fitness clearances have turned the regulatory system into a farce.
Equally concerning is the shortage of skilled and licensed drivers. In many cases, drivers lack formal training or even basic knowledge of traffic laws. Some cannot read road signs. The rapid expansion of motorised transport, combined with an unregulated influx of small and slow-moving vehicles such as battery-run three-wheelers, has created a deadly mix on highways and urban roads alike. These vehicles, often driven by teenagers or unlicensed individuals, weave recklessly between buses and trucks, slowing traffic and increasing the probability of collisions.
Then comes the issue of enforcement — or rather, the lack of it. Traffic laws in Bangladesh exist largely on paper. Enforcement is sporadic, selective and riddled with corruption. The average driver knows that a violation can be ‘settled’ on the spot with a small payment. This culture of informal settlement has normalised lawlessness. Pedestrians too are complicit, crossing highways indiscriminately and ignoring basic safety norms, but they are also victims of an urban design that prioritises vehicles over people. The absence of safe crossings, footpaths and dedicated lanes for non-motorised transport makes survival itself an act of luck.
Transport associations, many of them politically powerful, have played a decisive role in maintaining this disorder. These groups function as de facto power centres, shielding errant drivers and owners from accountability. Their capacity to paralyse the country through strikes and road blockades has made them virtually untouchable. Any attempt at reform — whether stricter fitness rules, new licensing systems or penalties for reckless driving — is swiftly resisted. Over the years, this nexus between politics, profit and transport has created an ecosystem of impunity that no government has dared to confront seriously.
The economic cost of road crashes is staggering. Studies estimate that Bangladesh loses several billion dollars annually due to road injuries, equivalent to more than 1 per cent of the national GDP. Every fatal crash not only extinguishes a life but also removes a productive member from the workforce. For the injured and disabled, long-term treatment and rehabilitation expenses often push families into poverty. The loss of income, the cost of caregiving and the strain on the public health system form a chain reaction that keeps the cycle of poverty intact.
The human cost, however, is far beyond calculation. Each accident reverberates through the lives of family members and communities. It alters the trajectory of children’s education, women’s financial independence and the social stability of households. Road safety, therefore, is not merely a transport issue. It is a public health, economic and moral concern that strikes at the heart of development.
Despite the gravity of the situation, the problem remains low on the government’s policy agenda. The focus of development continues to be on building more roads, highways and flyovers without investing adequately in safety design, enforcement or public awareness. The logic of economic growth has been prioritised over the safety of citizens. Yet, sustainable development goals cannot be achieved when thousands are dying annually on the roads that are supposed to connect progress.
The recent survey’s findings reveal that 98,422 people die every year from all types of injuries — nearly 11 per cent of total deaths in the country. That is an average of 268 deaths every single day. The overall injury fatality rate has declined slightly over the past decade, but that should offer little comfort when road crashes continue to claim more lives each year. The contradiction points to a deeper moral crisis: the selective neglect of preventable deaths that are not politically visible.
What Bangladesh faces is not a lack of knowledge or resources but a lack of resolve. The country has produced numerous policy documents, action plans and committees over the years. Yet implementation remains painfully slow. Data collection is fragmented, coordination between agencies is weak and accountability mechanisms are virtually nonexistent. There is no independent authority empowered to investigate crashes, identify systemic failures and enforce corrective measures. Without institutional reform, every new road safety initiative will simply add another layer of bureaucracy without changing realities on the ground.
Solutions exist and have been proven in other countries. Rigorous driver licensing systems, regular vehicle inspections, stricter penalties for violations and data-driven policy interventions can drastically reduce fatalities. Infrastructure design that prioritises pedestrians and non-motorised transport, along with public transport reforms, can further minimise risks. Awareness campaigns must accompany enforcement, targeting both drivers and pedestrians. Above all, political leadership must treat road safety as a national emergency rather than an administrative inconvenience.
The tragedy of Bangladesh’s roads is that the blood spilled on them rarely stains policy. Each accident is mourned individually but forgotten collectively. The victims are reduced to numbers in reports and headlines that fade within a day. What the nation needs is a cultural and institutional shift that values human life above convenience and profit. Road safety must no longer be seen as a side issue but as a barometer of governance, justice and civilization itself.
As the country continues its journey towards middle-income status, it must confront the paradox that development without safety is merely progress in disguise. A nation that cannot protect its citizens on the roads it builds cannot claim moral victory in the name of growth. Bangladesh’s roads have become both the arteries of its economy and the veins through which its lifeblood drains daily. Until the country learns to govern them with conscience and competence, the toll of deaths will remain a grim reminder that progress built on peril is no progress at all.
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HM Nazmul Alam is an academic, journalist, and political analyst based in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Currently he is teaching at IUBAT.