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WHEN Roman Ostriakov, a young homeless man, was caught ‘stealing’ a small amount of food from a supermarket in Italy, he initially faced a potential six-month jail sentence and a €100 fine. However, Italy’s highest court overturned the conviction. Recognising the principle of ‘right to survival prevails over property’, the court stated, ‘The condition of the defendant and the circumstances in which the seizure of merchandise took place prove that he took possession of that small amount of food in the face of an immediate and essential need for nourishment, acting therefore in a state of necessity.’

The court certainly didn’t ‘invent’ this humanity of care. Humans have practised it since they first learnt the power of staying together. However, in the time of our capitalist rat race, as many good old societal practices are fading away, such a token reminder coming from the court is not just welcoming but a necessary task to transcend that good spirit and remind society about the duty of compassion, which cannot be measured by legality versus illegality.


Unfortunately, the Italian example occurred in Europe, whereas we are here in Bangladesh. As a former colony that has become a ghost of its coloniser, this country continues to haunt its own people, treating them as dispensable souls rather than respected citizens. This unfortunate legacy was highlighted with awe and horror just a couple of weeks ago, when a newly elected student representative body, along with a few teachers, was seen harassing, humiliating, and evicting hawkers, street vendors, and homeless people they found in and around Dhaka University campus. This is an area over which they feel that they have the authority to act. But can authority be executed without considering the circumstances? How can the student body conduct such an anti-poor campaign in and around campus? What authority do they have to conduct such an uncompassionate move? For the sake of argument, even if the elected student body has jurisdiction, shouldn’t we consider revoking their authority on grounds that they failed to bear the moral weight of the given authority?

In a country like Bangladesh, where the state is still unable to ensure the basic rights of its people, should an esteemed institution like Dhaka University simply be benefiting from taxpayers’ money without any moral accountability? Shouldn’t its students have the responsibility to develop empathy for others while studying so they can better serve the country’s people in the future, especially in an environment of limited resources?

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Who are the poor?

IN A megacity like Dhaka — the capital of such a country where resource distribution is so uneven — the poor are mainly those who serve its city dwellers in many forms. They are people who are ousted from their home regions in search of livelihood after losing the means to earn a living in their own hometowns. They are our cleaners, gardeners, night guards, drivers, bus helpers, domestic workers, street vendors, tea stall owners, rickshaw pullers, garment workers, hawkers, and so many others. The whole city would fall into an abyss and come to a standstill if all the poor stopped working for a single day, let alone the impact on the country’s economy. Yet, we seem to choose to ignore their presence because recognising their contribution in our lives would force us to accept their labour rights, just wages, paid leave, and all associated rights. Keeping them invisible, denying their contribution in our lives and national economy, we are effectively ‘stealing’ from the poor to maintain the status quo and to keep their services cheap. So, why bother about the poor people when overlooking them offers such an easy chance to abuse and exploit them? And this is the systematic process we have created, where the exploitation of the poor is legal, and anything beyond that cycle of exploitation is considered charity.

If we look at the two major sectors of our country, agriculture and garments, together they employ the largest portion of our workforce and play a vital role in ensuring food security and sustaining our economy. Farmers and garment workers contribute the most, helping landowners and factory owners achieve the utmost profit. However, statistics show that farmers and garment workers typically earn between BDT 5,000 and 15,000, while a family of four to five members needs around BDT 16,000 to 17,000 just to cover food expenses alone amid the continuously rising market prices (Sarbojonkotha, volume 12, issue 1, 2025). This means that a large part of our population are living in such poverty that they cannot afford decent food, let alone proper housing and basic healthcare.

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Why do the poor gather around?

DHAKA city has never been planned with inclusivity in mind. Whatever planning does exist mostly serves the interests of the middle and wealthy classes — from roads and transportation to housing, recreation, and shopping malls. As a result, the poor are pushed to the margins, finding themselves at the crowded ghettos, shanties, and roadside shacks. The most destitute find their only resting place at night under the open sky, using bricks as pillows on footpaths, in parks, or along road dividers. If this is the country’s situation, then how can DU teachers and students expect to make their campus a ‘safe haven’ by evicting the poor from its footpath, especially when it is situated in the heart of the city?

We need to remember that in Bangladesh, as much as 47 per cent of the urban population lives in slums- a figure which is likely to increase further with the continued rate of unplanned urbanization (Government of Bangladesh, Sustainable Development Goals: Bangladesh Progress Report 2022).The distance between employment centres and housing is critical for the poor. Their income is so limited and unrealistic that they cannot afford to live far away and commute long distances for work every day. Consequently, they are trapped in a never-ending search for cheap nighttime shelter. When they become consumers of low-cost housing, they often fall prey to profiteers who occupy land illegally or by force. These profiteers rent out cramped spaces to thousands of domestic workers, garment workers, rickshaw pullers, roadside vendors, and others at exorbitant rates, offering the extreme poor living conditions which lack basic amenities such as drinking water, latrines, and electricity.

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Where is the poverty museum?

NOBEL Laureate professor Muhammad Yunus has often lectured about ‘sending poverty to the museum’. He is now the head of the interim government. While nobody expects poverty to be eliminated immediately, under his leadership it would not be unrealistic for the people of the country to expect more care and compassion for the poor, at least until poverty is ‘sent to the museum’, a concept that remains uncertain, and it is unclear when such a museum would be built or whether, in Dr Yunus’s rhetorical vision, the poor in Bangladesh were included or not.

Therefore, the government must play its role in safeguarding the poor, while the DU authorities, along with the newly elected student body, are acting against the poor and criminalising them. What if all institutions, corporations, and others start following DU’s example to ‘get rid’ of the poor from their surroundings in the city? Would this city then become more liveable? Would we still be able to enjoy cheap vegetables, affordable domestic help, or the services of sweepers, plumbers, and drivers? Would DU students themselves still be able to enjoy all the cheap roadside snacks, cakes, tea, dim biryani, or khichuri?

The current system is designed to produce poverty, creating more and more poor in countless ways, from trapping individuals in high-interest loans by exploiting their helpless and desperate situation to evicting people from their ancestral land for building power plants, setting up economic zones, laying railway tracks, or even for widening the road. Without revisiting the system and implementing the necessary reforms to prevent the escalating poverty rate, we cannot expect to solve the problem of inequality.

People fought and sacrificed a lot to oust the previous regime, definitely not to see another authoritarian culture take root. People in Dhaka gave vast space to Dhaka University, not for it to evict its own people or restrict movement on city corporation-maintained roads that pass through the campus, but rather for DU to set an example of co-creation, innovation, and tolerance.

Is it too difficult for DU students joining from different streams, clubs, and alumni associations to run a sample survey of the poor, homeless, and destitute living in and around their university campus? To take it as a case study and run a survey determining their age groups, their origins, and their needs in order to find a potential solution to this matter? Does DU not have the capacity to run evening classes or coaching to educate the illiterate, to spread awareness on health and hygiene, and to help them find sustainable livelihood and living options? While none of this is mandatory for DU teachers and students, at the same time, nobody was expecting to see their ruthless policing over the poor and criminalising them by accusing them of being ‘drug dealers’, and nobody was expecting DU students to beat Tofazzal Hossain to death, suspecting him of being the thief.

Shouldn’t the memory of July be the inspiration to become stronger by staying together and to run the extra mile in the face of all uncertainties, division and discrimination?

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Mowdud Rahman is a researcher and an engineer.