DHAKA — The numbers are staggering. Twelve officials dismissed. Six sent on forced retirement. Eighty-four suspended. Over seven months, Bangladesh’s prison system has seen an unprecedented crackdown on corruption within its ranks.
Yet, in a country where graft seeps into nearly every layer of governance, skepticism lingers.
Brig. Gen. Syed Mohammad Motaher Hossain, the Inspector General of Prisons, stood before the press Monday, listing out the reforms.
Cases filed against 260 people. Digital visitor tracking. RFID-controlled canteen management. Body cameras. Fibre-optic connectivity in 69 prisons. It sounded like progress.
But inside the prisons? Money still moves. Guards still take bribes. And overcrowding remains a crisis, with jails bursting at nearly triple their capacity. A new prison in Sylhet, expansion projects in Rajshahi and Rangpur—will they be enough?
For decades, Bangladesh’s prison system has been a goldmine for those who know how to exploit it. Corrupt officials pocket bribes to smuggle in drugs, mobile phones, and even lavish meals for well-connected inmates. In some cases, high-profile prisoners continue running their businesses from behind bars.
A former prison official, speaking on condition of anonymity, described a well-oiled system where money determines everything. “You pay, you get privileges—better food, a private room, even access to the outside world through smuggled phones. No one cares about laws,” he said.
Despite the IG’s assurances, some insiders believe these so-called crackdowns are more about political optics than genuine change. “We’ve seen this before. Arrest a few low-level guys, make headlines, and then move on. The real kingpins? They’re never touched,” the former official added.
Even without corruption, the system is in crisis. Bangladesh’s prisons are built to hold around 42,000 inmates. Today, they house over 90,000. Cells meant for a handful of prisoners now cram in dozens, sometimes forcing inmates to sleep in shifts. Basic healthcare is nearly nonexistent.
Authorities have promised a central prison hospital to improve inmate medical care. But for now, prisoners with serious conditions are either ignored or, if they have money, bribing their way into outside treatment.
The government has also touted Sylhet’s new central jail and other expansion projects, but critics argue this only treats the symptom, not the disease. “If we don’t address why so many people are being jailed—petty offenses, political arrests, and a slow, inefficient court system—then no amount of new prisons will solve the problem,” said a Dhaka-based legal analyst.
The IG acknowledged the deeper challenge. “Breaking up the syndicate of immoral beneficiaries for 15 years and making quick changes is a big challenge,” he said, hinting at the powerful forces that benefit from the status quo.
Who are these beneficiaries? Some point to mid-level prison officers, others to top officials with political connections. “These networks don’t just disappear overnight,” said a researcher on Bangladesh’s justice system. “If someone’s making money, someone else is protecting them.”
Bangladesh has seen anti-corruption drives before. Officials fired. Cases filed. Promises made. And yet, corruption survives, adapting to new policies, finding new loopholes.
The government insists this time is different. That technology, transparency, and strict enforcement will finally clean up the system. But for prisoners packed into suffocating cells, for families forced to pay bribes just to visit their loved ones, for the nameless guards taking orders from bosses more powerful than the IG, real change still feels distant.
The test won’t be in the announcements, the statistics, or the press conferences. It will be in the shadows, where deals are made, money changes hands, and corruption learns, once again, how to survive.