Saira Rahman

(Ed. note: The writer is an assistant professor of law at BRAC University in Bangladesh.)

We Bangladeshis have historically proved that at times of crises as well as natural and national calamities we are able to stick together and help each other regardless of religion, class, status or gender. There are enormous examples - the cyclone of 1970, the liberation struggle of 1971, various floods, droughts and other natural disasters, democracy movements, the collapse of Jagannath Hall, etc. Ordinary citizens, non-governmental organisations (NGOs), the government, all worked together to help those affected.

Somewhere along the way we have lost this feeling of togetherness - this feeling of belonging. Current political events in the country - and I do not mean just between the government and opposition parties - may have contributed to this loss. The recent collapse of a garment factory in Savar, northwest of the capital Dhaka, is a case in point.

In the early hours of April 11, Monaem, a knitting supervisor of the Spectrum Sweater Industries Ltd. in Savar, was startled to hear an ominous rumbling overhead in the factory. The nine-story building then collapsed. "I felt like we were trapped in a grave," he said, after crawling his way out. Some 350 underpaid, overworked workers were trapped in the jaws of death. It was one of the worst catastrophes in recent times. A total of 76 workers were killed and 84 others injured.

A lack of sophisticated equipment had prevented a quick rescue. Yet it is more depressing to witness the lack of motivation or speedy action on the part of the government and members of civil society in the incident. The only constant support group at the scene was the relatives of those who had yet to be pulled out. The stench of corruption and power politics mingled with the stench of decomposing bodies trapped in the ruins.

From the very beginning, the factory was reportedly built on land reclaimed from a pond on government property since the owner was blessed with an influential father-in-law. It was also said that the building's height could exceed its limit of just four stories because the owner had a friend at the Rajdhani Unnayan Kartripakkha (RAJUK), or the Capital Development Authority.

Factory inspectors are nowhere in the picture. Given the poor record of factory maintenance and the high record of factory accidents, we all know about the inspectors' standards towards dedication and honesty.

After the collapse of the factory, the owner was nowhere in sight at the scene, and the RAJUK official who passed the nine-story plan was not mentioned. Some 10 days later the owner paid the workers half of their wages and assured them that they would get the remaining half in the following month. However, he has yet to pay the money. The owner and a company director surrendered to the court in early May.

The surviving workers at Spectrum have been vocal about the terrible working environment in the factory and the near-slave wages which they were never paid on time. They have also complained that they were threatened with no payment unless they worked overtime. It was during one such period of overtime work that the building collapsed on the workers who toiled to earn less than the minimum wage.

The government has done precious little to mourn the dead. There is also no mention about compensation to the families despite the victims' cheap labour that made millionaires out of others and contributed to one of the largest economic sectors in Bangladesh.

If the government can declare a national day of mourning for soldiers who lost their lives in Sierra Leone and the Democratic Republic of Congo, then why not for the workers of Spectrum Sweaters? They too lost their lives in an activity that was for the good of the country. For this fact alone, the government must show them respect.

According to the third U.S. president, Thomas Jefferson, "The whole art of government consists in the art of being honest." Will the RAJUK official who allowed a nine-story building to be erected on a four-storey foundation be sacked? What of others like him? What about the factory inspectors who are supposed to inspect faulty wiring, ensure sufficient and clear exits and fire escapes? Many questions need to be answered by the government.

And how have our more vocal brethren - the members of civil society - been reacting to the incident? Some NGOs and labour groups have, indeed, demanded action and a national day of mourning for the country's loss. Special prayers were offered at different places of worship around the country. Yet, on the whole, the response to the tragedy has been lukewarm. Why has the opposition not jumped at the chance to once again berate the government for inefficiency?

There used to be a time when everyone would help everyone else regardless of economic and social class, politics or religion. It gave everyone the sense of belonging to one large community and boosted morale. What have we done to lose this vital ingredient? Why has the government and civil society failed to firmly address the recent tragedy? Have we as a nation become so divided and bitter that we have lost respect for others? Who will answer these questions?