Mahtab Uddin Ahmed

If you walk into a startup pitch competition in Dhaka, it often feels like going to a winter wedding. Everyone wears the same panjabi and waistcoat, and talks about disruption in the same polished accent they learned from a YouTube video.

Bangladesh’s Telecommunication Network and Licensing Policy 2025 represents the most ambitious reform since the 2010 ILDTS framework

A CEO in Dhaka once gathered his managers and declared with great seriousness, “Our company has only one purpose: to maximise profit.

One of my friends has been working with a government agency for the last three years on a project, bringing more than a decade of hard-earned experience to the table, as well as the rare distinction of having actually managed the kind of project they were struggling with.

A king once set out to tour his kingdom with an assistant. In the very first village they visited, they discovered that water and ghee were being sold at the same price.

The wealthiest man in the city once promised to donate gold equal to the weight of a cow at a charity event. The organisers, being business-minded, asked for some time, not to think but to fatten the cow, and immediately started feeding it biryani to make it heavier.

We have always been champions of hugging. From clutching relatives at weddings long enough to make the stage creak, to embracing one another at mosques after prayers, to greeting colleagues with theatrical warmth at the first meeting of the week. And of course, the masters of the art, our politicians, hugging voters before elections with dazzling smiles, then hugging power afterwards as if their lives depended on it.

In our country, the word “sorry” is rarer than electricity on a summer evening. Not because we do not make mistakes. We produce them in bulk. From call drops to collapsing bridges, from delayed mega projects to disappearing dollars, we are world-class exporters of errors.