Do Not Erase the Architect's Name!
The July Uprising Memorial Museum has been officially inaugurated. I extend my heartfelt thanks and deepest gratitude to the Honorable Chief Adviser and everyone involved in this timely and historic initiative. Yet, amid the brilliant glow of the inauguration, one face remained noticeably missing from the spotlight—the person who served as the conceptual architect of this museum, who worked tirelessly day and night, even falling ill to bring this dream to fruition. It is impossible to articulate in words how deeply an architect inhabits their own creation. Sidelining the primary creator of such a work is visually and ethically jarring. Honoring the architect of an art form diminishes no one else's stature.
Having spent a significant portion of my professional life serving as a Solution Architect across various multinational corporations, I know firsthand how lonely the battle is to transition an idea from its conceptual infancy into tangible reality. When that long, arduous struggle is ultimately rewarded with nothing but institutional silence in the place of credit, the pain ceases to be personal. It mutates into a profound question regarding our national state culture.
I am reminded of a monumental milestone in our nation's history—the complex process of freeing up the 700 MHz band for 4G and 5G services. It involved round after round of grueling negotiations with Telenor, Axiata, and Robi; relentless efforts at the Ministry of Finance to demonstrate the far-reaching importance of this move; bargaining over spectrum fees to secure executive approval; compressing six months of work into six sleepless weeks; and rushing between the offices of the Assistant Attorney General and the Attorney General to vacate court injunctions (vested interests blocking the 700 MHz band had even reached the Chief Adviser's Office). It required seamless coordination between the PTD and the BTRC. Back then, when Grameenphone brought in a new investment of BDT 2,300 crore for the spectrum, we were falsely accused of favoritism. Yet, when this highly coveted "Golden Spectrum" was finally launched last month—blazing a new trail for 4G/5G services through deep-indoor coverage in this densely populated country—no one remembered that those who fought behind the scenes deserved at least a small note of appreciation.
During the election preparation phase, I had the privilege of serving on a core committee tasked with managing cyber warfare defense, financial fraud prevention, and coordinated inter-agency escalations. During this period, I regularly briefed the Honorable Chief Adviser, Professor Muhammad Yunus. In one particular meeting, Prof. Yunus directed us to establish a robust rating system to evaluate the cyber capabilities of various critical state institutions. Driven by his vision, we developed a "Core Scoring and Weighted Ranking" framework anchored by four customizable pillars: 20% for IT & Info-Sec Governance, 30% for Infrastructure & Operations, 30% for Cyber Security & Data Protection, and 20% for Digital Services & User Maturity. The ICT Division, through the BCC and NCSA, advanced this National Rating System with high priority, and our engineers successfully completed its in-house implementation. It was slated for inauguration on February 10—my very last day in office—and the official notice had already been issued. However, amidst the extreme pressure of election preparations, handover duties, and drafting the "Note to Successor" letter, the launch was deferred. When it was finally inaugurated last week, even the barest institutional acknowledgement of where the idea originated or how its implementation began was completely absent.
Consider another vital milestone: the design of the nation’s first international-standard Telecom Quality of Service (QoS) Benchmarking framework, encompassing nearly 36 KPIs. Real-world user scenarios—such as uplink performance, mobility, mixed urban-rural terrains, and highways—were integrated into the framework for the very first time. Furthermore, distinct KPI benchmarks were established for NTTNs and ISPs, given that Bangladesh's mobile and broadband internet quality trailed behind more than ninety countries at the time. While this work did receive media coverage, the names of the individuals who built it from scratch were entirely omitted. I have no personal objection to my name being left out. But why is our state apparatus so tight-fisted when it comes to acknowledging the local and international experts who contributed thousands of dollars worth of professional expertise completely free of charge?
This brings us to the core issue—this is not a political question; it is deeply structural and cultural. How do we intend to encourage "Reverse Brain Drain"—inspiring experts at home and abroad to offer their intellect and labor for the nation—if even the most basic institutional recognition is withheld? Or are we silently assuming that the development of this country no longer requires top-tier intellectual talent? There should be no hesitation in valuing the mind that sketched the primary vision of a project. If only for the sake of effective Knowledge Transfer, maintaining a bridge of communication with the original architect is imperative.
Unfortunately, our reality reflects the exact opposite. The prevailing culture seems to dictate: "If someone did this before but it wasn't widely publicized, suppress it or rebrand it under a different name to claim the credit." Consequently, exceptional initiatives stall within bureaucratic labyrinth, and project proposals undergo arbitrary changes in name and framework. Forcing a project forward without inheriting the architect's philosophy, technical pathway, and roadmap inevitably breeds two conclusions: either you assume you know everything, or you simply choose to understand nothing, driven solely by a desire for superficial credit.
One of the finest initiatives of this interim administration was the 'Nagarik Seba' (Citizen Services) project—for anyone who truly comprehends its depth. It was designed to bring the services of all ministries and departments under an API-based platform and a National Digital Service Exchange via robust interoperability. Regrettably, the 'Nagarik Seba' project currently stands suspended. Arbitrary changes are being injected into the Interoperability DPP by individuals who lack a fundamental grasp of this technology. Proceeding without an understanding of the architectural philosophy, technical pathway, and roadmap means the state and its citizens will ultimately miss out on the actual benefits of the reform.
This is not a grievance; it is a sincere appeal. Learn to respect intellect, ideas, initiatives, and the sanctity of creative design. An institution or a nation truly progresses only when the name of the person who drew the very first line is preserved in history. On the plaque of the July Memorial Museum, the name of the core conceptual architect could have easily stood alongside the names of Chief Adviser Professor Muhammad Yunus and Cultural Adviser Mostofa Sarwar Farooki. Whether a creative endeavor is hard or soft, honor its chief architect. Otherwise, the next generation of creators, architects, and innovators will inevitably ask: what is the point of staying up night after night, selflessly working for the country?" Sharing the fruits of success is secondary, but transferring inspiration by validating intellectual contribution is the state's ultimate responsibility.
Author: Technologist and writer, former Special Assistant to the Chief Advisor of the Interim Government
Note: The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the views of Digital Bangla Media. As a matter of editorial policy, opinion pieces are published without substantive editing to encourage the expression of diverse viewpoints. Any offence or disagreement arising from the content remains entirely the responsibility of the readers concerned.
