Milestone’s Tragedy: From National Neglect to a National Emergency Response Authority

The tragedy at Milestone didn’t just burn through lives; it incinerated the last vestiges of our collective denial.

Let’s be honest. We didn’t need this calamity to tell us something was wrong. We already knew. We’ve known for years. We watched our systems rot in real time -- watched corruption morph from scandal to spectacle, then fade into background noise. We didn’t just witness the decay of our institutions -- we adapted to it. We got used to the lies, the bribes, the quiet backroom deals while real people paid the price outside them. This grim acceptance persisted -- even as the Monsoon Revolution promised a new dawn of accountability.

And then came the tragedy.

Milestone wasn’t just a tragedy -- it was a mirror. One that forced us to look at ourselves and ask: When did this all become normal? When did preventable death become just another news item? When did greed get a permanent seat at the policymaking table? When did we stop being outraged?

We didn’t lose our moral compass overnight. It was a slow bleed. And somewhere along the way, we stopped demanding better. Worse --we stopped believing better was even possible.

But grief can be a catalyst. And Milestone, in all its horror, has given us a final warning. This isn’t about pointing fingers or assigning blame. In truth, each and every one of us is complicit. If we don’t change now -- if we don’t redraw the line between what’s acceptable and what must never be tolerated -- we’re not just broken. We’re part of the problem.

This isn’t about sadness anymore. It’s about survival -- of conscience, of integrity, of any future we can be proud of.

It’s time to wake up. Not gently. Not gradually. But completely.

Let the lesson from this tragedy become a moral compass that guides us back to our humanity. This reckoning should have already been an integral part of the Monsoon Revolution. Now, it must be.

Reclaiming Our Moral Fibre

First and foremost, we must reclaim our moral fibre This goes beyond merely condemning corruption. It demands a fundamental re-education -- a nationwide recommitment to the bedrock of human decency.

We must teach, unequivocally, that morality is not optional. It must be instilled and championed in every home, every school, and every institution. These aren’t abstract ideals. They are daily habits. We cannot expect integrity from our leaders if we don’t cultivate it in our children, our communities, and ourselves.

This isn’t a suggestion. It’s the foundation. Without it, every reform will crumble under the same weight of neglect and self-interest.

A Nation Aroused, A System Reborn

This awakening also forces us to confront a darker truth: we’ve seen this before. Factory fires, ferry sinks, building collapses—disasters where the poor died anonymously, and the nation barely flinched.

For too long, “Who cares?” might as well have been the unspoken epitaph for the voiceless, the nameless, the forgotten.

But this time—this time, it was our children. This time, we felt it. And that truth should shame us. It reveals how easily we rank the value of human life.

That ends now.

Because the problem is no longer just moral decay. It’s institutional failure. Milestone has laid bare a deadly vacuum—the absence of a unified, competent, national emergency response system. A vacuum that costs lives every year. A vacuum that now demands to be filled.

A National Emergency Response Authority -- Now

To prevent future catastrophes, we need more than sorrow. We need structure.

It is time to establish a National Emergency Response Authority -- an entity modeled on FEMA in the United States, but tailored to our context. An agency with a singular mission: to respond fast, decisively, and humanely when disaster strikes.

Imagine how many lives could have been saved at Milestone had such a force existed. Instead, we witnessed chaos. Victims were rushed to hospitals unprepared for burn injuries. Critical minutes were lost. And in a grotesque twist, thousands gathered not to help -- but to film, post, and profit. Selfies, not support.

This wasn’t just incompetence. It was abandonment in real time.

It’s time to move beyond performative grief. We must build something real. Something robust. Something that doesn’t crumble the moment we need it most.

The Anatomy of a True Lifeline

This proposed emergency authority wouldn’t be just another department. It would be our first line of defense -- the face of rapid, organized, professional crisis response. Its mandate would be simple: save lives.

Its structure? Bold and uncompromising. Unified command. No jurisdictional disputes. No red tape. In a crisis, it would bring fire, police, military, and medical personnel under one singular, expert-led chain of command -- empowered to act without hesitation.

No more chaos. No more crossed wires. No more time lost to bureaucracy while people die.

Its job?

Respond immediately. Act strategically. Coordinate flawlessly.

This isn’t just about speed—it’s about dignity. About giving every Bangladeshi, no matter where they live or what they earn, the right to immediate, expert, compassionate care in their moment of greatest need.

Let Milestone be the moment we stopped accepting dysfunction -- and started building capacity.

An Urgent Appeal

As the tenure of the interim government draws to a close, we appeal directly to Chief Advisor Professor Muhammad Yunus: seize this moment.

Let this be the legacy of your leadership -- not a promise, not a speech, but a system that saves lives. A government that acted before the next tragedy struck.

This is not politics. This is purpose. And the nation is watching.

Milestone’s fire must be more than another tragic headline. It must be our collective turning point. A wake-up call that doesn’t fade. A mirror we dare not look away from.

Let us build from these ashes -- not with pity, but with purpose. Let us forge from grief a national will to protect, to serve, to respond. Let us create a Bangladesh where life is not a gamble, but a right -- guarded by a system that works, and a people who care.

The time for mourning is ending.

The time for building has begun.