While we lose our sustainable traditions, the West pivots in the opposite direction
The nation, once a bastion of sustainable practices, now finds itself retracing its own footsteps, urged by global institutions to adopt what was inherently theirs
There is a humorous anecdote about a thrifty individual who acquired a lungi for a mere Tk50. Over several years, as the lungi wore out, he resourcefully transformed it into a towel.
After serving its purpose in that role and becoming worn and torn, the towel was then repurposed into a handkerchief.
When even the handkerchief saw extensive use, the thrifty took it to the extreme by burning it into ashes and using it as an improvised toothpaste. With a wry sense of humour, he remarked, "Well, there goes my Tk50!" as he rinsed his mouth with water.
This once-humorous tale, symbolic of resourcefulness and frugality, now serves as a poignant metaphor for the necessity of sustainable living in the face of an evolving world. In the backdrop of this humorous story lies the crux of Bangladesh's sustainable ethos, a practice ingrained in the upbringing of 1990s kids.
Mothers, the custodians of tradition, diligently saved and reused their children's clothes, fostering a culture of sustainability that extended beyond familial bounds. The act of donating clothes to the less fortunate was not just charitable; it was a thread woven into the societal fabric.
Sons proudly wearing their fathers' and grandfathers' old clothes and the norm of acquiring new attire only for special occasions epitomised a conscious effort to minimise waste and prioritise responsible consumption.
Yet, a conspicuous shift emerges as Bangladesh undergoes development and economic prosperity. The increased affluence prompts a surge in clothing expenditures, overshadowing the erstwhile sustainable practices.
This transition, while contributing to economic growth, raises critical questions about the environmental impact of our choices. Fashion production, constituting 10% of global carbon emissions, is a silent contributor to ecological degradation, depleting water sources and polluting rivers.
The winds of change blow on the global stage, with Indian actress Alia Bhatt's commendable act of repeating her wedding outfit. garnering widespread acclaim.
She has also previously said in an interview that she does repeat her clothes, why it is essential for us to repeat clothes instead of buying new ones, and why it is necessary to increase the shelf life of the clothes because we need to understand where our clothes are going.
In contrast, a disconcerting sentiment was echoed by a Bangladeshi actress who boasted that she could not even think about repeating clothes more than once. That makes us wonder if Bangladesh is moving towards the practice of a less sustainable fashion. This paradox sparks contemplation on the trajectory Bangladesh is taking in its fashion choices.
In Bangladesh, ceramic dinner sets are expected to be used on every occasion. Some families also use melamine, glass, stainless steel, brass, and clay. Years ago, people used banana leaves as plates for mass feasts.
In villages, women still use spoons made with wood and coconut shells, which the western world is now adopting. Surprisingly, in the western world, many sustainable and environment-friendly practices are being adopted, which have been practiced in Bangladesh for a long time.
Once criticised for single-use plastics, the western world is now pivoting towards sustainability. The USA and Canada's adoption of one-time-use plastic at gatherings, a longstanding norm, is gradually transitioning towards eco-friendly alternatives.
The tale extends beyond fashion to recycling and upcycling, where Bangladesh has been a pioneer for years. Street hawkers traversing the daily roads exemplify a grassroots approach to waste management, buying papers and recyclables from households.
The plastic dilemma stands starkly illuminated in the realm of materials that shape our daily lives. A trove of research underscores the perilous consequences of relying on plastic utensils, a narrative mirrored by the western world's pivot towards sustainable alternatives—ceramic, brass, or clay dinnerware.
However, amidst rapid urbanisation, Bangladesh finds itself at a crossroads, grappling with a surge in plastic consumption. As plastic usage surges, the need for sustainable plastic management becomes dire.
Alarming statistics reveal Dhaka generated 646 tons of plastic waste in 2020, ranking 10th globally in mismanaged plastic waste generation. Per capita plastic consumption has doubled in the last 15 years, signaling a pressing environmental concern.
The transition from jute products to plastic bags and nylon ropes further accentuates the growing plastic predicament, emphasising the urgency of sustainable plastic management. This plastic surge begets an ecological crisis, permeating urban spaces, countryside, and waterways.
Mismanaged plastic waste, predominantly single-use plastics like shopping bags and wrappers, besieges cities, clogging drains and fostering urban flooding. The slow degradation of plastic into microplastics poses an ominous threat to humanity, marine life and ecosystems.
Bangladesh stands at a precipice, teetering on the brink of plastic overconsumption and pollution. A World Bank report in 2021 prescribes a National Action Plan for Sustainable Plastic Management. Embracing a circular approach through the 3R strategy—Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle—the plan envisions a transformative journey towards green growth.
It promises to tackle plastic pollution and heralds the creation of new value chains, jobs, and innovative products. Surprisingly, this echoes a rhythm Bangladesh has danced to for generations.
The nation, once a bastion of sustainable practices, now finds itself retracing its own footsteps, urged by global institutions to adopt what was inherently theirs. The irony is poignant—a rediscovery of solutions masked by a momentary lapse in the face of western influence.
The onus for change transcends the realm of governance and policymaking. It necessitates a collective awakening among the people, a return to the time-honoured values that once anchored Bangladesh's sustainable culture. At this crucial juncture, the populace holds the power to steer the nation towards a more eco-friendly, sustainable trajectory.
The revival of ancient practices and a departure from the lure of mass consumerism has become paramount. Rather than succumbing to external pressures, it's high time for Bangladeshis to reclaim their heritage, resisting the allure of excessive shopping and consumption.
The path to a greener future lies not in the hands of a few but in the collective consciousness of an entire nation. The choices made today echo through the corridors of tomorrow, urging Bangladesh to reclaim its mantle as a champion of sustainable living.
Faria Tabassum is a student of MBA at the University of Wisconsin Milwaukee.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of The Business Standard.