GARGANTUAN steps

Tuesday, July 28, 2026

into the eye of the tiger

জয় বাংলা
joy Bangla
'victory to Bengal'
- war cry used in Bangladesh

Never in my life did it cross my mind that I would ever visit Bangladesh, but here I was, in the middle of the monsoon season, in the riotous city of Dhaka on a work trip. It was only to be a short three days, covering both Dhaka as well as Sylhet, but the days were long with multiple meetings and discussions. We did manage to squeeze in a single sight-seeing visit in Dhaka itself, thankfully! The first thing that came to my mind, upon finding out about this trip, was that this was going to be like India, which I had travelled to all those years back. I recalled it being a full on assault on my senses back then - visually, tactilely, auditorily, olfactorily, and gustatorily - and I was expecting no less for this trip to Bangladesh. Dhaka is, after all, the second most populous city in the world, with around 37 million inhabitants, in a country of about 178 million people. Also, I had learnt my lesson from previous trips - I had armed myself with both the typhoid and hepatitis A vaccines - and thankfully, I did not return with Dhaka belly this time round.

The history of Bangladesh is tied with that of India in that it was part of India during the days of the British Raj, and following Partition in 1947, it was the East Pakistan of the Pakistan nation. Pakistan is actually an acronym made up of Punjab, Afghania, Kashmir, Indus, and BaluchiSTAN, and unfortunately for Bengalis, there was no room for 'Bangla' within it. From its beginnings, East Pakistan was always under the thumb of its Western counterpart, and things came to a head following the 1970 Bhola cyclone that devastated East Pakistan. Aid from West Pakistan was withheld by the government looking to use the opportunity to massacre the Bengalis, and the Bengalis themselves fought for their survival, their rights, and their independence. Even the superpowers, including USA, India, and Russia, found themselves mired in this civil war which almost resulted in it going nuclear. Eventually, the Bengalis finally gained their independence, though at a massive cost of lives. Bangladesh was the new nation's name - 'desh' meaning 'land' in Bengali and hence, 'Bangla's land'. Since then, Bangladesh continues to suffer from poverty and corruption, resulting in swathes of its people leaving the country in search of greener pastures, and one of those destinations they left for was Singapore. The aim of my trip was thus to observe their medical facilities as we aimed to move the migrant workers' health screening upstream - for it to be done in their home country prior to travel, rather than having to be deported back from Singapore upon finding out they had a communicable disease. It turned out to be quite an eye-opening trip for myself as I learnt more about the plight of migrants, and even that of refugees. 

We departed for Dhaka on a Sunday night, arriving just before midnight (but because of a 2-hour time difference, it was 2 AM in Singapore) local time. And we were to experience firsthand bureaucratic inefficiency - it took nearly an hour to clear customs, with only 5 people ahead of us. Worse still, our checked-in luggage had yet to come out when we finally made our way past immigration. We arrived at our hotel close to 2 AM local time, and after a quick shower, it was time to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Unfortunately, late nights were to be a recurring theme for the rest of the trip. Our hotel was situated within Gulshan-2, which is apparently the diplomatic and business district of Dhaka, and so our hotel was eerily devoid of traffic noises. Not that I was complaining.

With Deborah and Leo


Finally arriving at our hotel, The Way, Dhaka

The first day was spent visiting the local clinics engaged in migrant worker health screening, including the International Organization for Migration, housed under the United Nations. On reflection, it never occurred to me that I would one day be given this opportunity to represent my country in such a capacity, having started out just wanting to be a doctor. A bit of imposter syndrome crept in too, but on further reflection, how does one even gain the necessary expertise for this except through learning on the job? Things like politics, administration, and crafting policies cannot be picked up just from a textbook. It also requires a lot of soft skills which is definitely something that I was not trained in nor comes naturally to me. Still, it has opened up a whole new horizon for me.


At the United Nations in Bangladesh

Wall art within the UN featuring the unique Bengali-style Kalighat painting

The entrance to the IOM at the UN

Outdoor area for the collection of sputum from patients with suspicion for tuberculosis
These patients were afforded quite a stunning view too of the Banani lake

Tropical storm over the Banani lake

Lunch at a food court which served food at near-Singaporean prices, and of which each meal took nearly 15-20 minutes to prepare, including a plate of fried rice (even when there was no queue)

Workbooks with apparent ties to the Singapore education system being sold at the books section in a departmental store


Dinner at the Japanese restaurant Umai
From left to right: Leo, Deborah, Rajeev our gracious Nepalese host from IOM, Sherman, and Ida (the latter two from the Ministry of Manpower)

One of the main topics of conversation throughout the trip was about the plight of the refugees. The IOM are heavily involved in the medical care of the Rohingya refugees in Cox's Bazar, which is in southeast Bangladesh. I heard, firsthand, from Rajeev our host from IOM, who is a Nepalese married to a Sri Lankan, the terrible conditions faced by the inhabitants of the refugee camp. Resources for healthcare workers are at a bare minimum, permanent structures are not allowed to be built within the camp (which makes things like having even an X-ray machine impossible), and the camps are over-crowded and at risk of disease outbreak anytime, including mortal enemies such as cholera. Things became worse following the funding cuts by the US administration this past year, and one cannot help but feel despondent for this group of people, yet be so inspired as well hearing their stories as well. It is encountering stories such as these firsthand that broadens your world view, especially coming from a stable, well-developed country such as Singapore with its first-world problems. 

In the other parts of the country itself, the plight facing the locals seeking a better life abroad was also shared with us. I had done my own homework, reading the diary entries of Md Sharif Uddin published as books - 'Stranger to Myself' and 'Stranger to My World'. He is a Bangladeshi worker who had made his way to Singapore, and in it, he details the amount of anguish and suffering he has faced since deciding to move. One of the major problems faced by these migrant workers is the exorbitant fee paid by them to agents within their country, who help arrange all their paperwork and appointments prior to their move. Though all they truly need is to fill in a visa application form and undergo a medical (which would cost at most a few hundred USD), they end up paying thousands to these agents to arrange everything, who obviously take a huge cut of the fee. These agents are not even legally authorised ones - they are just someone who is literate and opportunistic, as well as the unfortunate trait of being unscrupulous. Thus, these Bangladeshi workers start off heavily in debt even before they arrive in their destination country, and instead of sending money back to their families, a huge bulk of it is used to pay back the debt incurred from the agent fees. If we in Singapore knew what these workers were facing, we would perhaps be a lot more sympathetic to their plight instead of adding further misery to their lives (by withholding their pay, for example). 

The second morning was spent visiting another clinic before we did our major sight-seeing of the trip. Dhaka is not a city geared for tourism. In fact, it probably perplexes the locals that anyone would want to visit the city for the sake of seeing the city itself. At the airport, you will not find any shop selling postcards or memorabilia beyond the rare fridge magnet. At one of their main tourist attractions, the Lalbagh Fort, their idea of a souvenir shop was a man sitting under a beach umbrella with a table spread of books. Probably the only thing the city itself sells is an experience - experience the hazard of sitting on a rickshaw; experience the sprawling mess and masses in old Dhaka; be overwhelmed by the noise of the traffic and be amazed at their driver's skills as they fight tooth and nail for every available inch of space on the road. Granted, I have not given the city its due in experiencing its sights, and I will find an opportunity in the future if I ever do return.


Hotel breakfast
I was apparently very brave to consume fruits though in my defence, these were ones which had to be peeled and you need not have to bite through the skin. I was spared Dhaka belly for this trip, thankfully.



A sign found on the mirror of a restaurant toilet was not encouraging at all



Farewell lunch to our MOM companions at Sultan's Dine (Gulshan Branch)
The portions were huge and the food generally appetizing


Paying a bookshop a visit
The Bookworm Bookshop within the Justice Shahabuddin Ahmed Park

Our only time for a bit of sight-seeing was during our second afternoon, and even then, we had to be at the airport in the evening to catch our flight to Sylhet, and we buffered in a lot of time for traffic. That meant we only had time for one site, rather than a traditional tour of the old city and its museums, and I picked the Lalbagh Fort as the chosen destination. 'Lal' means 'red' and 'bagh' means garden, and this fort is reminiscent of the Taj Mahal, just on a much simpler scale. Right in the centre of the fort is the tomb of Pari Bibi (Fair Lady), who was the governor's daughter. Construction of the fort originally began in 1678 AD by the Mughal Prince Muhammad Azam Shah, and when he left 15 months later, the compound was taken over by the governor, Shaista Khan. It is to his daughter for which the mausoleum is dedicated to. After her death, the site was deemed cursed, construction ceased, and the place eventually abandoned. The fort lay dilapidated and became the home for many of the homeless in Dhaka, and only in 1974 was the land physically controlled by the government, and turned into a tourist attraction. Even then, during our visit, much of the fort was run-down and barely restored, and there were little to no signs of explanation to what we were seeing. Still, I was thankful for the opportunity to have paid a visit, which was prematurely cut short due to the arrival of the daily tropical rains. 


Central walkway leading to the Mausoleum of Pari Bibi


Squatting over the toilet in the Diwan-i-Aam, the Hall of Audience, which is the two storey residence of the Mughal governor of Benghal



Hammamkhana - The bath house
There is a central elevated platform for one to wash oneself with water obtained from a heated water tank by the sides


On a ridge overlooking the central structure of the fort - the mausoleum

The most unforgettable part of the trip though was to happen that evening. We were meant to catch our flight from Dhaka to Sylhet at seven in the evening, but a combination of bad weather and mismanaged airlines (Biman Bangladesh, for which we were told that even the UN did not allow their refugees to fly on) resulted in us only departing at 1130 pm. It was a test of our patience, and upon landing an hour later, we were dealt a further blow. We ran right smack into throngs of crowds hooting and dancing on the streets, celebrating Argentina's victory over Egypt during the FIFA World Cup. What was meant to be a short fifteen minute drive to our hotel became a 45 minute one as we navigated the football fanatics. Exhausted by the time we reached our hotel, I slept through the din, though not through the second of two electrical cuts in the middle of the night. 


Even our driver was taking a video of the scenes of celebration


One for the memories

We were told by our hosts the next morning that outside of Argentina, Bangladesh had the second-highest number of Argentina supporters


Sylhet is situated in the north-eastern part of the country, where the weather is apparently cooler and pleasant - which meant that that was where the British typically congregated. Where the British were, tea was to follow, and Sylhet is synonymous with tea plantations. Our final morning of our short trip encompassed us crossing a mosque to get to our destination, and little did we know that we had passed right through a major pilgrimage site in Bangladesh - the Shrine of Hazrat Shah Jalal - where every politician hoping to win the presidency will come to pray at before embarking on his campaign. Unfortunately, it was drizzling heavily, and by the time we had found out that it was anything of significance, we were drying off in the clinic. Additionally, without a guide, we were quite unsure about the rules of stepping into a mosque and hence did not even survey around when crossing the compound.

Rajeev, our host in Dhaka, had also made the trip up to Sylhet, and the morning was actually spent advising us to switch our flights to a more credible airline - US Bangla - so that we would not be caught in the same situation heading back to Dhaka that evening, and catching our onward journey to Singapore after. Thankfully, we took his advice, and if we had caught our original flight, we would have missed our flight back home and would have had to stay an additional day in Dhaka. There was a bit of a kerfuffle with the upper management, but thankfully, it was not my problem to deal with, in terms of seeking approval for taking an early flight (when the original flight was not yet deemed to be delayed). 


Biryani bought for us by our hosts at Green Crescent Medical Health Services
On the far left - Dr Hoq - and far right, his brother-in-law


Having our final discussions (and a prata with tea) with Rajeev before our flight back


Stopping by a tea plantation for 10 minutes en route to the airport


Last group photograph


Glad that our rebooked flight left on time
And even gladder we didn't get on the soon-to-be-delayed original flight


Grilled fish
My final meal in Bangladesh, where apparently fish is their specialty

Though a short trip, this was pretty memorable for the company as well as the friendships made. It was also an eye-opener as I learnt more about the plight of the refugees as well as the terrible circumstances facing migrant workers. Glad to have been given the opportunity for this trip, and I wouldn't say I'll be put off if I had to go to Bangladesh again, though I will definitely want to visit the Somapura Mahavira, which is a five-hour drive, during my next visit.

posted by Gabriel Yan at 10:51 PM

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