Published: 09:56 AM, 20 August 2026
When the Walls Turn Against Us
Anika Raisa
Dhaka is growing upward. Every morning, another building seems to rise above the city, apartments, offices, shopping complexes and commercial towers. We call it development. We celebrate the concrete skyline as a sign of progress.
But there is a question we rarely ask: Are our buildings becoming safer as they become taller?
For many people, a building is simply a place to live or work. For a family, however, it is much more than that. It is where children sleep, where parents return after a long day, where birthdays are celebrated and where ordinary lives unfold. That is why a building should never become a place where people are forced to gamble with their lives.
Bangladesh has laws and regulatory mechanisms concerning construction, development and building safety. The Building Construction Act, 1952, the Real Estate (Development and Management) Act, 2010, the Bangladesh National Building Code and the regulatory role of authorities such as RAJUK are all parts of the legal framework surrounding our built environment. My own study of real estate law has made one thing particularly clear: having laws is not the same as making people safe. The real test of a law is what happens beyond the pages of the statute book.
Consider a fire. When flames spread through a building, there is no time to search for legal provisions. There is no time to debate whether a developer complied with a requirement or whether an authority properly inspected a structure. At that moment, people need working emergency exits, accessible stairways, proper fire protection systems and a safe way out.
And when those things are missing, the consequences are not measured in fines or court files. They are measured in human lives.
This is why fire safety cannot be treated as a technical formality. A blocked emergency exit may look like a minor violation on an ordinary day. A locked staircase may seem insignificant until smoke fills a corridor. A poorly planned building may appear perfectly normal until an emergency exposes every weakness at once.
We often remember disasters for a few days. We watch the news, share photographs, express grief and demand accountability. Then the attention fades. The buildings remain. The risks remain. Until another tragedy reminds us.
Perhaps the greatest danger is that we have slowly become accustomed to this cycle.
Development should not mean simply constructing more buildings. It should mean constructing places where people can live and work with dignity and reasonable security. Real estate is not merely about land, ownership and investment. It is ultimately about people.
Developers have responsibilities. Regulatory authorities have responsibilities. Building owners have responsibilities. But citizens also have the right to ask whether the places they live and work in are genuinely safe.
We need stronger enforcement, meaningful inspections and accountability that does not disappear after a tragedy. Regulations must be followed not because authorities might impose a penalty, but because someone’s mother, father, sister, brother or child may be inside that building.
Dhaka does not need fewer dreams. It needs safer ones.
A city should be judged not only by how high its buildings rise, but by how safely its people can return home at night.
Because at the end of the day, a building is made of concrete, but a home is made of human lives.
Anika Raisa studies Law at Bangladesh
University of Professionals (BUP),
Mirpur Cantonment, Dhaka.
