Workers Block Highway After Fatal Crash

The Dhaka-Mymensingh Highway Blockade: A Protest That Exposed Labor, Safety, and Systemic Failures
On March 12, 2025, the Dhaka-Mymensingh highway—a lifeline for Bangladesh’s economy—ground to a halt. Garment workers in Gazipur, fueled by grief and fury, barricaded the road for three hours, turning asphalt into a stage for dissent. Their protest erupted after the death of Minara Akhter, a 19-year-old worker killed in a road accident, but it was never just about one tragedy. This was a flare shot into the sky, illuminating the rot beneath Bangladesh’s garment industry: exploitative labor practices, crumbling infrastructure, and a government that turns a blind eye until the streets burn.

The Spark: Minara Akhter’s Death and the Powder Keg of Worker Grievances

Minara Akhter wasn’t a statistic. She was a teenager stitching fast-fashion dreams for global brands, earning pennies while executives pocketed profits. Her death—a preventable road accident—was the match tossed into a tinderbox of pent-up rage. Workers described hazardous commutes on overcrowded, unregulated transport, a daily gamble with fate. “We’re treated like cargo, not people,” one protester spat. The blockade wasn’t planned; it was primal. Spontaneous, yes, but also strategic: paralyzing a highway forced the world to notice.
The garment sector, Bangladesh’s $40 billion cash cow, runs on the backs of 4 million workers, 80% of them women. Yet factories skimp on safety measures, from fire exits to shuttle buses. The government’s response? A shrug and a press release. When Minara died, officials offered condolences but no concrete action. The workers’ message was clear: *We’re done waiting for crumbs of dignity.*

Labor Rights or Roadblock? The Dual Edges of Protest

Critics called the highway blockade “economic sabotage,” but that’s a lazy take. The workers weren’t hijacking traffic for fun—they were weaponizing disruption because polite petitions got ignored. The Dhaka-Mymensingh artery isn’t just pavement; it’s a symbol. Block it, and you choke the supply chain, hitting brands where it hurts: their wallets.
Yet the protest also exposed a paradox. While the workers demanded safer roads, their blockade created new dangers—ambulances stuck in gridlock, perishable goods spoiling in trucks. This isn’t hypocrisy; it’s desperation. As labor historian Dr. Farida Akhter notes, “Oppressed communities aren’t given megaphones. Sometimes, they have to *make* noise.” The chaos was collateral damage in a war for visibility.
Globally, this tactic isn’t new. From French *gilets jaunes* to South Korean truckers, disrupting infrastructure is Protest 101. But in Bangladesh, where dissent is often met with batons, the Gazipur workers’ boldness was revelatory.

The Ripple Effect: From Local Grievance to Global Reckoning

The Gazipur protest didn’t stay local. Within hours, #JusticeForMinara trended worldwide, and H&M faced a social media firestorm. Why? Because fast fashion’s dirty secret is its reliance on systemic exploitation. Brands outsource labor to Bangladesh for cheap costs, then feign ignorance when workers die. The Federal Highway Administration’s guidelines? Worthless if unenforced.
The Carnegie Endowment’s Global Protest Tracker lists Bangladesh among 2025’s hotspots for labor unrest, and Gazipur proves why. Workers aren’t just fighting for better buses; they’re demanding a seat at the table. The Interagency Serious Accident Investigation Guide stresses cross-sector coordination, but in Bangladesh, “coordination” too often means cover-ups.

The Takeaway: A System Built on Broken Backs Can’t Stand Forever

The Dhaka-Mymensingh blockade was more than a traffic jam—it was a stress test for Bangladesh’s conscience. Minara’s death was the symptom; the disease is a system that values profit over people. The workers’ defiance forced a conversation, but real change requires more than viral hashtags. It needs enforceable safety laws, corporate accountability, and, crucially, respect for labor as human, not just “human capital.”
Until then, the highways will keep burning. And the world will keep watching.