Bangladesh is urbanizing at one of the fastest rates in the world. Nearly two in five people already live in cities, and projections from the World Bank and the United Nations suggest that by the 2030s this will rise to half.
The evidence is all around us: Dhaka’s relentless sprawl, Chittagong’s clogged roads, Khulna’s water-stressed neighbourhoods, Mymensingh’s sudden expansion as a new divisional city, and the growing demands on Rajshahi and Sylhet as regional hubs.
Urbanization is inevitable. The real question is whether it will be fair -- and whether our fragile economic transition can carry the weight of this transformation.
Fairness in urbanization is about who gains and who pays the cost. A fair transition ensures that jobs, housing, clean air, safety, and climate resilience extend to low-income families, informal workers, women, youth, and persons with disabilities. Without fairness, new infrastructure risks becoming monuments to exclusion: Metro lines and flyovers that bypass the majority who live and work informally.
The scale of exclusion is stark
According to the International Labour Organization, about 85% of Bangladesh’s workforce is informal. These workers sustain urban life, yet their needs rarely appear in planning documents or budgets.
Environmental risks magnify inequality. Dhaka’s air pollution is among the worst in the world, with fine particulate levels ten to 18 times above safe guidelines. The World Bank estimated in 2023 that extreme heat costs Bangladesh nearly $1.8 billion annually in lost productivity.
Housing precarity reinforces this cycle. After the 2012 Korail eviction in Dhaka, field evidence documented how insecure tenure keeps families in permanent limbo. The Centre for Urban Studies’ national slum census shows similar vulnerabilities across the country.
In Chittagong’s low-lying wards and Narayanganj’s riverbank clusters, waterlogging ruins homes and contaminates drinking water. Rajshahi’s greener core hides peripheral settlements struggling with floods and heat; Sylhet’s hillside colonies face flash-flood damage; Gazipur’s factory belts are marked by overcrowded, unsafe rentals. Whether in Dhaka, Khulna, Rajshahi, or Sylhet, millions live on a repair-and-rebuild treadmill that undermines genuine progress.
This fragility coincides with a risky economic transition. Bangladesh’s upcoming graduation from the UN’s Least Developed Country category is a milestone, but it also brings challenges: Phasing out preferential trade, reduced concessional financing, and tighter conditions in global markets.
Our economy, already strained by external shocks, will need credible, inclusive governance to withstand these pressures. If urbanization proceeds without fairness and integrity, the risks of exclusion will only deepen.
This is why our flagship frameworks demand scrutiny. The Bangladesh Delta Plan 2100 is the most ambitious attempt to align land, water, and growth. But does it deliver fairness? Too often, the focus drifts toward embankments, highways, and dredging, while people-centric measures -- like shaded walkways, cool roofs, accessible public transport, and resilient upgrading of low-income settlements -- remain sidelined.
Financing is opaque. Who in Khulna’s flood-prone wards will benefit from the “climate budget?” Which neighborhoods in Mymensingh will get drainage or shaded bus stops? Unless ward-level disbursements and outcomes are published, citizens cannot trust that climate finance is more than a headline.
Institutional fragmentation compounds the problem. Urban Bangladesh is governed by overlapping authorities -- city corporations, RAJUK, WASA, BIWTA, LGED -- often with little coordination. The Delta Plan speaks of alignment, but where is accountability when drains collapse after one monsoon or brick kilns keep poisoning the air? Without mechanisms that bind agencies to shared outcomes, “coordination” is rhetoric, not reform.
The stakes are high because credibility now matters more than ever. As concessional aid declines, attracting investment and climate finance will depend on whether Bangladesh can show transparent, inclusive, and results-driven planning. Integrity in governance is no longer optional; it is the currency of resilience.
Global experience proves that fairness is achievable. Medellín in Colombia built cable cars that connected hillside neighbourhoods to jobs, restoring dignity and mobility. Barcelona’s “superblocks” reduced traffic and gave public space back to citizens, improving health and well-being. Ahmedabad’s Heat Action Plan in India treated heat as a governance challenge, saving thousands of lives by simple, affordable measures.
Bangladesh can adapt these lessons. Imagine Khulna with green corridors along canals that double as walkways and flood defenses. Imagine Dhaka investing in accessible buses and heat-proofed roofs. Imagine Rajshahi scaling its reputation as a “green city” by embedding fairness into air, transport, and housing policies. These are practical expressions of planning with integrity.
But readiness for a fair transition also requires respecting what already works. The United Nations-SERAC initiated, government-approved urban youth councils are one such innovation. They exist in cities like Narayanganj, Rangpur, Rajshahi, Mymensingh, and emerging in Khulna -- showing how youth can co-design services and monitor accountability. Yet the draft National Urban Policy ignores them -- an omission that raises an uncomfortable question: Are policymakers paying attention to real practice, or writing policy in isolation?
If we are serious, Bangladesh’s cities would have legally mandated, budgeted ward-level councils where youth, women, and informal workers co-design projects. Public dashboards would track air quality, drainage, and service delivery in real time. Climate and urban finance would reach low-income wards instead of being absorbed by megaprojects. And agencies would be judged not by how much they spend, but by whether lives actually improve.
If we can answer yes to these conditions, Bangladesh can urbanize quickly and fairly, turning LDC graduation pressures into opportunities for inclusive growth. If not, our cities may dazzle with concrete and glass but remain unjust and economically fragile.
The window is open. Fairness, integrity, and inclusion will decide whether Bangladesh’s urban transition becomes a foundation for prosperity -- or a monument to fragility. The choice is ours, but not for long.
SM Shaikat is Executive Director of SERAC-Bangladesh and a policy analyst.
