Md. Nurul Haque
There was a time when children in Bangladesh dreamt of becoming teachers, doctors, engineers, or honest public officials. They carried notebooks as if they were swords and saw in their teachers the lighthouse of civilisation. A university professor was once a sage, a doctor a healer next to God, an engineer a bridge-builder not only of roads but of futures. Today, those dreams lie in dustbins replaced by neon illusions. Our children no longer look up to the classroom but to the screen. The TikTok dancer, the YouTube prankster, the gang leader flashing motorbikes, or the politician without principle but with palaces of stolen cash- these have become the idols of a generation adrift.
Why has the pendulum moved so quickly? The solution is straightforward and sad. Knowing things doesn’t pay anymore, but tricks do. A university teacher, who has spent decades learning, can’t bring the shopping bag home without feeling ashamed of his debt. A doctor working for the government has trouble paying for school, and private clinics charge patients excessively. Engineers, architects, and government servants who were once respected and are now seen as relics have incomes that are stretched like old elastic.
The show, on the other hand, is disgusting. Influencers show off the millions they make from promoting brands. Politicians in their thirties have crores that honest policemen could never dream of having their whole lives. The message to young people is clear: why work hard for years to get a PhD when a fifteen-second video can make you more money? Character used to be the most important thing to have. Today, money and power are. The moral compass is shattered. Instead of pointing to virtue, it points to viral fame.
If this trend continues, Bangladesh risks raising a generation of hollow men- loud but empty, rich but rootless. A nation without accurate role models is like a ship without anchors. It drifts toward whichever storm is most audible. The consequences are grave. When knowledge loses its dignity, universities become factories of mediocrity. When honesty loses its reward, bureaucracy becomes a bazaar of bribes. When character is mocked, the young grow up without a compass or a conscience.
The decay is not accidental. It is systemic. The state, instead of nourishing its thinkers and guardians, has reduced them to beggars at the table of power. Teachers are treated as dispensable, doctors as dispensers of prescriptions, engineers as contractors, civil servants as clerks. No wonder the young turn away from these “low castes of the state” and chase the glittering idols of money and notoriety.
Tides, like morals, can be turned. If the state truly wishes to save the soul of the nation, it must restore dignity to knowledge and character. This is not charity- it is a matter of survival. A nation that mocks its teachers will one day sit in darkness without lamps of learning. A state that starves its honest officials will one day dine with thieves.
First, salaries and benefits for educators, doctors, and engineers must be upgraded to match the gravity of their responsibilities. A teacher shaping hundreds of minds is worth more than a TikToker shaping seconds of amusement. Second, society must publicly honour these professions- not just in hollow speeches on national days, but in practical perks housing, research grants, healthcare, and pensions. Third, strong media campaigns are needed to recast the image of accurate role models- the quiet engineer building bridges, the rural doctor saving lives, the teacher nurturing leaders, and so on. Children must see them as leaders, not losers.
Of course, the state cannot do everything. Families, too, must plant different seeds. Parents who gush over flashy influencers while ignoring the teacher who tutors their child are themselves complicit in this decay. Storytelling at home must revive the heroes of integrity such as A.P.J. Abdul Kalam who rose from a newspaper boy to a rocket scientist, Fazle Hasan Abed who built BRAC from scratch with honesty as his wealth, and so on. Schools, likewise, must cultivate admiration for character, not just career. Debates, dramas, and essays should highlight virtues over virality.
Teachers themselves must accept a renewed duty. Why should kids idolise them if they act like they only care about getting paid? To inspire others, they must show the respect they want to see. The chalk must be used like a sword of truth, and the classroom must become a place of values.
We stand at a crossroads. Either we return to honouring knowledge, integrity, and sacrifice, or we surrender to a carnival of hollow idols. Money and power may dazzle, but they cannot sustain civilisation. As T.S. Eliot warned, the world ends not with a bang but with a whimper- when hollow men rule hollow nations.
Bangladesh cannot afford that fate. The soil that birthed Tagore, Nazrul, Begum Rokeya, and Yunus deserves better than TikTok theatrics and gangster politics. To reclaim our children’s dreams, we must reclaim our role models. Teachers, doctors, engineers, and honest officials must once again stand at the summit of respect. The state must lift them, families must honor them, schools must teach them, and society must follow them.
The choice is stark: hollow men or whole humans, viral fame or virtuous flame. The nation’s future depends on who our children look up to. If we fail, the idols of today will be the tyrants of tomorrow. If we succeed, the wisdom of yesterday can still light the path of tomorrow.
The writer is an Assistant Professor of English at IUBAT
