Photo : Messenger
In the midst of discussions about budget, fiscal policy, monetary policy, price inflation, and policy interest rates, the harsh reality is that the price of goods has hit the bottom of the consumer's pocket. Every morning, people from all walks of life in this country wake up to the unsettling fact that commodity prices are spiraling out of control. Reflecting on this, I am reminded of a speech by the renowned poet Pallikabi Jasimuddin, delivered shortly after Bangladesh's independence. He spoke about the escalating price of paper:
"I will no longer talk about the price of paper. Before independence, it was four annas, but after independence, it rose to eight annas. I spoke against this, and the next day the price climbed to 10 annas. Despite further protests and silent marches, the price kept rising. Now, I apologize—I have nothing to do with the paper anymore. If I speak about it, the price might rise to one taka."
This anecdote mirrors the present-day situation. During the previous government, the blame for soaring commodity prices was placed on syndicates. The then-Commerce Minister Tipu Munshi once declared that the syndicate couldn't be touched without triggering further price hikes. His statement caused a media storm. I, too, wrote about it in protest. But now, with a new government and no Tipu Munshi in sight, the prices continue to rise.
Just last night, I bought green chilies for Tk 400 per kg, making each chili pepper worth around Tk 4. This morning, I woke up to find the price had skyrocketed to Tk 800 per kg, turning each pepper into an 8-taka commodity. It wouldn't surprise me if tomorrow the shopkeeper informs me that the price has doubled to Tk 1600 per kg.
Yes, the price of gold has gone up—we won't buy gold. The price of television has surged—we can live with the old one for a while longer. The price of shoes has risen—we can walk barefoot. But every morning, we have to confront the harsh reality at the vegetable shop. For the middle and lower classes, the daily struggle is unbearable. There’s no way to avoid the necessities—brinjals, potatoes, and patols—while debts pile up. How do we lead a decent life amidst this?
There are countless reasons circulating for the price hikes: extortion, rising oil prices, floods, increased demand during religious festivals, and even secret conspiracies by the government. But none of these explanations matter to the hungry. When the stomach burns with hunger, no rhetoric or analysis of "100 reasons for rising commodity prices" will provide comfort.
A recent video of an elderly man in white garments lamenting the unbearable price of goods has gone viral on social media. With tears in his eyes, he cried that people might starve. His anguish resonated deeply with me. Our elderly citizens, who spent their lives contributing to society, are now living in shame, unable to afford basic food. How has it come to this?
Retired individuals, already struggling with meager pensions, are in a worse position. The rising prices of essential goods have rendered their fixed income insufficient to cover even basic medical and household expenses. The government’s promise of a pension for those who surrendered it in favour of a lump sum has done little to ease their plight. These retirees have repeatedly pleaded with the government, requesting a reduction in the pension eligibility period, but their cries for help remain unheard.
The common people had hoped that the new government would finally rein in the unstoppable syndicates that control the markets, as Tipu Munshi once warned. But now, no one knows how much a kilogram of ginger will cost tomorrow, or what the price of a few green chilies might be. If you buy 20-taka worth of coriander leaves, will the shopkeeper return your change in stones?
To maintain its popularity, the government must take immediate action to reduce the prices of essential goods, especially food items. Whether or not the trade advisor visits the local market or fines a few vendors is irrelevant to the struggling public. The prices won’t drop just from market inspections alone. To truly make a difference, the government must increase the supply of products, promote vegetable cultivation in unused spaces, and assist farmers in increasing production. Private initiatives, supported by the government, can also reduce the number of middlemen and ensure that consumers get products at fair prices.
Yet, I find myself hesitating to speak too loudly about the rising prices. Experience has shown that after a report on commodity prices is published, prices often increase further. From syndicates and extortion to floods and greedy merchants, the reasons for these hikes are endless. Only through a concerted government effort, strict enforcement of regulations, and a genuine commitment to keeping prices low can we hope for relief. Unfortunately, businesses in Bangladesh have never been governed by policy, and this government’s attempts to control prices through mere rhetoric are likely to fail.
Therefore, I end this reflection with a nod to Pallikabi Jasimuddin's wisdom: perhaps it’s better to remain silent, lest the price of goods rises further.
The writer is a PhD Scholar at the University of Delhi. He can be reached at: [email protected].
