
THE sudden death of an RMG worker protesting in front of the Shrom Bhaban on March 23 took the media by storm. The festivities of Ramadan came to a halt, even if for a second, as Dhaka’s urban middle class was confronted with the stark realities hidden beneath the surface of the country’s multi-million-dollar RMG industry. The deceased was identified as Ram Prasad Singh Jony, a senior assistant manager at Stylecraft Limited in Joydebpur, Gazipur. His demand was very simple: to be paid full wage for his labour of 14 months. Since Jony died in the middle of a raging protest for due wages, it would be difficult to portray this as an isolated event. But when similar deaths occur all around the country every month, they are all too easily dismissed as merely another unfortunate incident.
Earlier this month, a junior operator at Panorama Apparels Limited, Afsana Akhter, died in mysterious circumstances during her shift. She had apparently gone to the rooftop to perform her midday prayers, where she became unconscious and died on the spot. At least, that is the statement of her co-workers. However, both factory and police authorities have classified her death as a suicide. While it may be impossible to determine with certainty which account is true, the more pressing question lies elsewhere: whether she took her own life due to deteriorating mental health or succumbed to physical distress, can the factory authorities truly evade accountability under any circumstances?
In 2006, a study conducted in 11 RMG factories at Mirpur, Mohakhali, Uttara and Savar areas of Dhaka showed a horrendous report regarding the well-being of workers. The study reported that nearly half of the respondents (47.3 per cent) faced verbal abuse, primarily from floor in-charges and supervisors. Additionally, 26.4 per cent of the respondents experienced both verbal and physical abuse, highlighting a deeply ingrained culture of mistreatment within the industry. The dire state of the work environment was further exacerbated by inadequate basic facilities, with 65.5 per cent of respondents lacking access to proper toilet facilities and 60 per cent deprived of pure drinking water.
A more recent study conducted among RMG workers employed in factories located in Dhaka and Chattogram examined the experiences of 27 participants aged between 18 and 48. The findings indicated that inadequate workplace facilities and poor working conditions severely affected workers’ health. The lack of access to clean drinking water exposed them to waterborne diseases, while insufficient seating arrangements, overcrowding and excessive noise levels led to frequent illnesses and long-term health complications. Between 2020 and 2024, a staggering 396 garment workers lost their lives in road accidents near their workplaces, according to data from the Road Safety Foundation.
The findings paint a grim picture, where workplace exploitation, unsafe conditions and economic vulnerability combine to perpetuate extreme human suffering. Nearly every aspect of a worker’s life in Bangladesh appears to be shaped by a complete disregard for their well-being. As mentioned previously, under no circumstances, can the factory authorities evade responsibility for the tragic death of Afsana Akhter. Yet more often than not, the authorities are not held accountable for such events.
The term ‘violence’ usually conjures images of direct physical abuse, overshadowing the slow, insidious effects of structural neglect. Narratives of structural violence also tend to be less appealing to the urban crowd, forcing popular media to focus on the individual embodiment of suffering instead. Even in order to draw attention to the cause of the labourers, media and activists have resorted to highlighting stories of individual workers. While these efforts are commendable, the constant exposure to such narratives appears to have desensitised audiences, diminishing their capacity for genuine empathy toward the broader structural injustices at play.Ìý
Structural violence is often overlooked simply because it lacks a specific perpetrator and is embedded within societal norms and institutions, making it less visible and more challenging to address compared to direct violence. This invisibility, in turn, facilitates its perpetuation. The general public in Dhaka often perceives workers’ protests as unwarranted disturbances to their daily and political lives. Strikes or road blockades — particularly in industrial zones like Ashulia and along the Gazipur Main road — are frequently regarded as disruptions to everyday routines. In a city like Dhaka, where traffic congestion is already a chronic problem, such demonstrations tend to exacerbate the situation. As a result, these protests are often met with resentment, especially from the urban middle-class working population.
Another common tendency is to portray the protests as being instigated by political parties. This phenomenon has persisted across different regimes over the years in Bangladesh. As a result, the general public often approaches such protests with scepticism and tends to withhold support. While the scepticism has been shaped by various political and historical factors, from a sociological perspective, it largely stems from a limited understanding of the far-reaching impacts of structural violence.
This lack of visibility is perhaps one of the factors that enabled the residents of Dhaka to continue their celebration of Eid-ul-Fitr while RMG workers protested relentlessly for their rightful wages. A more nuanced media narrative — one that portrays structural violence as it manifests through chronic neglect, institutionalised abuse and the erosion of basic rights — can shape public understanding of its consequences.
Ìý
Ania Fahmin is an undergraduate student of anthropology at the University of Dhaka.