Thirteen years after the Rana Plaza building collapse, any mention of the disaster is often treated as an inconvenience.

A few years ago, I became interested in the claims in the economic literature that gender equality promotes economic growth.

Research consistently shows that children learn best in a language they understand.

Dhaka’s battery rickshaws, known as Tesla, offer high-speed urban mobility while trapping drivers in a cycle of debt.

A fishing village on the seashore. The village is repeatedly submerged by tidal waters. It rises again, and work resumes. But the people remain in crisis year after year.

The Teesta, once the vibrant pulse of northern Bangladesh, is fighting for survival. Where strong currents once promised prosperity, the river has largely withered into a narrow, knee-deep stream or vast, barren sandbars.

Bangladesh is part of one of the world’s richest biodiversity regions, yet its natural forests continue to shrink and degrade.

Khidirpur village in Godagari, Rajshahi, bakes under the midday sun as dry, dusty winds blow through. But something even more parched than the land is the language once spoken here.

In the days following the election, as we found ourselves drifting through the familiar routine of scrolling endlessly on Facebook, we began noticing posts from friends and colleagues reflecting on the results.

In the tea garden villages of Sylhet division, a language is breathing its last.

The first thing you notice, on entering the lanes of Shyampur, is how little sky there is.

In recent years, Bangladesh has made significant progress in destigmatising menstrual hygiene.

For the first time in years, voters across Bangladesh felt they had taken part in a national election without fear.

While farmers in other parts of the country are improving their livelihoods by producing high-quality crops using modern methods, many in the agriculture-dependent northern Rangpur region remain tied to the “poison tree” of tobacco.

There is clear evidence that learning in multiple languages, starting with the mother tongue and then gradually adding national and global languages, is good for cognitive abilities and does not impair language skills in second and third languages.

Many of us remember the child in Taare Zameen Par-misunderstood, labelled lazy, punished for academic failure-only begins to flourish when a teacher recognises his dyslexia.

The rise of battery-run auto rickshaws has changed the rhythm of Bangladesh’s streets. They are fast, affordable, and everywhere.

Baikka Beel, a wetland now facing a deepening crisis of protection, was officially closed to public access a year ago.

Every year, during the month of October, UN-Habitat encourages us to engage in Urban October—a time for reflection and conversation about the challenges and opportunities created by the rapid pace of change in our cities and towns.

The most invisible and unheard communities in Bangladesh include, among others, ethnic communities or adivasis, tea workers,