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There is a growing sense of unease over the perceived decline in law and order situation across the nation. Near my house, the local branch of retail chain Shwapno sends its female employees home before nightfall due to safety concerns, resulting in understaffing at night. Last night a friend's daughter fell ill but he refused to take her to the hospital. He was more fearful of the supposed muggers than the illness itself. If this is the reality in our capital where security measures are supposedly the strictest, imagine the vulnerability felt in smaller towns and rural areas.
How did we get here? How did it come to the point where a cornered home affairs adviser had to arrange a midnight press briefing just to give the semblance of hope in maintaining law and order?
It has been over six months since the mass uprising when the people's wrath forced the former prime minister to flee the country. People became cheerfully optimistic as Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus was appointed Chief Advisor. The sight of students directing traffic became symbols of a new dawn.
However, six months later, the euphoria has faded, and hope has shifted to mounting concerns over security. Six months later, incidents of muggings and robberies now dominate our media coverage.
We are a nation defined by family bonds. Our deepest anxieties stem from the safety of our loved ones. When parents hesitate to seek healthcare at night or retailers restrict women's work hours, the state's authority erodes. We have a large police force that is responsible for safeguarding our streets. If this police force fails to conduct street patrols and guarantee public safety, people will soon start questioning its very purpose.
On Wednesday, Army Chief General Waker-Uz-Zaman rightly stated that the army alone does not have the capacity to maintain law and order. He was on point when he emphasized that deploying 30,000 soldiers cannot be a substitute for 200,000 police personnel. Needless to say, our citizens should not have to fear walking at night when a 200,000-strong force is paid to keep them safe and maintain order.
Something has clearly gone wrong. Our police have forgotten their duty. Some among them - loyalists of the ousted government - are deliberately neglecting their responsibilities. Many have been transferred from one district to another in the hope of a change in attitude. But it is unreasonable to expect that motivation will magically reappear with a change of scenery.
Then there are those who have simply lost the nerve to enforce the law. They are still traumatized after witnessing angry mobs torch police stations as a tit-for-tat for police brutality during the student-public uprising. These are the police members who shy away from confrontations. Stopping rickshaw pullers driving opposite the traffic flow now terrifies them. Some even fear going home at night unless accompanied by their informants for protection.
Every police member I know - regardless of rank - are engaged in groupthink. They see the world through a lens that makes sense to them but appears absurd to others. When you speak of corruption and wrongdoing within the police force-and there are bad actors in every profession-they take offense, reacting as if the criticism applies to all of them. This is why, as corrupt officers feel insecure, so do the honest ones. And as those are driven by political interests to neglect their duties, so too do those without any political agenda.
This mindset must change. Individual police members must understand that if a colleague is punished for wrongdoing, it is not a personal attack on them.
Police has to look like police and act like police if the government intends to control the rise in mugging. Our army can patrol the streets, but it is the police who must secure the alleyways where most crimes occur. The government must act decisively to restore law and order or it risks betraying the very revolution that brought it to power.