THE post-July uprising landscape in Bangladesh perfectly illustrates the prevailing sentiment that without structural change in governance, the transformative aspirations for which more than a thousand people laid down their lives in July 2024 will never be realised. After fifteen years of tyranny under the Hasina regime, this February’s election can be marked merely as a change of political party; the BNP has replaced the previous regime, yet they are piloting the same engine that helped turn the Awami League into a brutal, oppressive autocracy.
While the month of June has long been marked as the month of getting a new budget every year for Bangladesh, which dominates discussion in the political and media spheres. But, without sealing off the holes that leak the welfare tank empty before it reaches the commoners and without overhauling the system that has become a black hole, sucking up people’s meagre earnings only to serve oligarchs, selective businesses and corrupt bureaucrats, every budget is routinely turning out to be a farce for the common people, especially for the poor.
A budget is meant to be a plan for the year ahead, where people participate in fattening the government’s exchequer in return for state expenditures that ensure people get the fullest benefit from their contributions. In this process, people cannot escape handing over the part of their hard-earned income, mainly in the name of VAT and taxes. However, government is rarely held accountable while we do not get drinkable water in our taps, while we feel forced to rush to private clinics in the absence of adequate doctors, nurses and beds in public hospitals, or while we see no option other than sending our children to private schools or madrassas in the absence of decent public schooling.
As the government tends to fly high in the month of June, and this government is no exception, spreading the illusion of a prosperous future which never comes true, I intend to raise questions about the budget planning process. Taking the renewable energy expansion plan as a case study, I will examine how budgetary figures are selectively forced to be glamorous, cheering the potential benefits for the few while sidelining the majority of the population and casting away the poor.
A success built by the poor
BANGLADESH’S first megawatt-scale solar power plant was commissioned in 2017. Most of the utility-scale solar installations operating today, however, were installed from 2021 onwards. As of June 15, 2026, the total capacity of utility-scale solar projects, which are often referred to by the Sustainable and Renewable Energy Development Authority as ‘solar parks’, stands at 745.25 megawatt-peak (MWp) across 14 projects nationwide. Most of these projects have been developed as commercial ventures by industrialists and investors to sell electricity to the national grid.
The next batch of solar development has come from rooftop systems under the net-metering programme. As of June 15, 2026, the number of registered net-metering installations stands at 4,841, nearly half of which were commissioned since 2024. The total installed capacity under net metering has reached 314 MWp. Although the first grid-connected solar system was commissioned in 2016, the net-metering programme began gaining significant traction after 2018.
In addition, Bangladesh has more than 3,400 solar irrigation systems with a combined capacity of approximately 60 MWp. Most of these projects have been financed by the government or through the Infrastructure Development Company Limited using funds from development partners and international donor agencies.
Yet the important contribution to Bangladesh’s solar journey comes from a source that is often overlooked. Of the country’s total installed solar capacity of around 1,504 MWp, the remaining capacity (384 MWp) is largely attributable to more than six million solar home system users. These users do not belong to the affluent sections of society. They are predominantly poor households living in remote villages, chars and off-grid regions. Long before solar technology became affordable and widely accepted, these households invested their hard-earned income in solar systems because they had little alternative. While much of the country benefited from publicly funded grid electricity, millions of rural families remained beyond the reach of the grid. In many cases, they were effectively compelled to adopt solar energy for their daily needs. This transition began at a time when Bangladesh lacked a comprehensive renewable energy policy, regulatory institutions were either absent or weak, product standardisation was limited and technical support infrastructure was largely dependent on NGOs and donor-funded programmes. The solar home system usage started in the early 2000s. According to IRENA data, cumulative solar system installed capacity remained below 50 MWp until 2010 and reached roughly 200 MWp by 2015.
It was these disadvantaged communities that kept the dream of renewable energy alive in Bangladesh. They provided the foundation upon which today’s solar sector stands. They did so despite scepticism from many policymakers, experts and fossil fuel industry lobbyists who never considered renewable energy a viable future for the country. Today, Bangladesh has set a target of generating 20 per cent of its electricity from renewable energy sources by 2030. Given that renewables currently account for less than 5 per cent of electricity generation, the target is ambitious, and ambition alone cannot guarantee success. Without transparency, accountability and genuine commitment, the renewable energy sector risks becoming another costly policy failure, similar to the controversy surrounding private sector rental power plants. To achieve its renewable energy goals, the government must actively involve citizens in the decision-making process and listen to the people who have lived the renewable energy experience for decades. The millions of solar home system users, small businesses and technicians across Bangladesh should not be viewed merely as beneficiaries of development. Their experience offers valuable lessons in energy conservation, energy access and resilience in the fight against energy poverty. Bangladesh’s renewable energy story did not begin with large investors or utility-scale solar parks. It began with marginalised people who always have been in desperate search for electricity to power their homes or to charge their batteries when no one else was willing or able to serve them.
Let’s not design to fail
THE tax burden on items and accessories needed for renewable energy expansion and associated electrification activities has been one of the reasons this sector remains dwarfed so far in Bangladesh. It is almost impossible to escape the adverse effects of such high taxes, as local manufacturing for every product cannot be profitable due to rare earth material supply issues, environmental protection concerns and the lack of economies of scale.
When importers are bound to pay 28.73 per cent on solar panels, 39.75 per cent on solar inverters, and 61.8 per cent on mounting structures, among many other similarly high figures for different components, we rarely benefit from the ever-decreasing cost of renewables. The government has dropped taxes to almost zero for many of these items in this year’s budget, but there is a catch. As per the NBR’s notification issued earlier this month, such tax exemptions will only be applicable to those who import these items for their own purpose to generate solar electricity for internal use or to sell excess electricity to the national grid and to renewable energy service companies that finance, generate and sell solar electricity to others. This means that to receive the government-announced tax waiver, one must either be a wealthy business person or an opportunistic venture capitalist. If anyone falls outside of these two categories, be it a typical importer of solar items for the market or a business or distributor operating with limited capital, the government’s blessings are not for them. Such selective favouring is anything but friendly toward renewable energy expansion; it risks creating a monopoly in this sector.
This budget also glorifies its announcement to significantly reduce the tax burden on electric vehicles, buses, trucks and charging stations. While these decisions are positive, the underlying signal is a warning: if you are not in the middle or upper-income class, the government will not cheer for you. This is why millions of electric rickshaw drivers and owners are named and shamed in countless ways despite having built a massive fleet of electric three-wheelers by their own, while the tax rates for their parts, i.e., body, motors, switches, lights, etc., remain between 3 per cent and over 60 per cent.
Electrification is an important step toward renewable energy expansion. It sends a distorted signal to society when policymakers treat these millions of poor rickshaw drivers, who risked their limited savings and spiralled into high-interest debt to invest in their livelihoods, with humiliation and constant threats of bans. Yet, the same policy framework offers tax waivers on luxury electric vehicles and subsidises cheap charging infrastructure. If the government will not cheer for and empower the poor, who will? Without truly inclusive policy framing, how can justice be served?
Gaining energy sovereignty is a process that cannot be implemented while living in a ‘policy cocoon’ and focusing only on stated goals. It requires creating the right environment, mobilising resources and ensuring mass participation that includes the poor and disadvantaged sections of our society, who are the most numerous.
Mowdud Rahman is an engineer and a researcher.
