In Bangladesh, those who enter government service at the highest possible grade for entry-level positions typically receive a total salary of around 35,000 BDT (approx. 400–450 CAD). Depending on their posting—be it in the capital, a divisional city, a district, or even a sub-district—rent and living costs may slightly vary. But the harsh truth remains: this is the salary even for the so-called elite “first-class” officers. Behind them stand two more classes—second and third class—each with upper and lower divisions. The government’s minimum salary offering hovers around 14,000 BDT (about 160–180 CAD).
The smallest workforce segment belongs to the first-class officers. The vast majority of employees belong to the second and third classes. But has anyone paused to consider how these people are surviving on such meager incomes? What does their household budgeting look like? How long did it take them to become eligible for these jobs? How much money did their families invest?
Let’s forget the financial investment for a moment. Just look at the time: 5 years in primary school, 5 in secondary, 2 in higher secondary, 4 years of undergrad, and 1 year of a master’s—17 years spent with books in hand, chasing a dream.
One might ask: is a master’s degree mandatory for all government jobs? Technically, no. But in reality, the job market is so saturated with master’s graduates that even for positions like cleaners, caretakers, or clerks, thousands of highly educated candidates apply. Those with only a Grade 8 education? They’re often left behind entirely.
So how are these government employees surviving on such limited pay? Especially those who rely solely on their salaries and have countless financial responsibilities. Despite all this, they are expected to serve selflessly, even if their own families go hungry. Their profession demands integrity, resilience, and sacrifice—but offers little in return.
And then comes the internal divide: the “honest” and the “dishonest.” The latter often live lavishly. They may be drivers, clerks, or even mid-level officers—but they accumulate wealth through bribes, misuse of power, and unchecked corruption. Their influence grows, their names shine on donation plaques, and their families enjoy elite lifestyles. Even when a few of them are caught in scandals, the system barely trembles. Public outrage comes and goes. But the fate of the honest remains unchanged.
For the honest civil servants, it’s a constant struggle. They can’t meet family expectations, can’t uphold social relationships, or even feed their families properly. They pray not to be invited to weddings or family gatherings—to avoid the embarrassment of not being able to contribute. They shop for vegetables late at night, hunt for discounts, and often stretch their resources to the limit. And who stands with them? Who thinks about them?
Critics often say: “You chose this life willingly.” But the truth is, the salary structure from 2015 no longer supports the cost of living in 2025. Inflation has surged. Living costs have multiplied. Yet the pay remains nearly stagnant. Low pay continues to be a major driver of corruption. If we want to fight corruption, we need to pay enough to meet at least basic human needs. Yes, some will always be greedy. But those who suffer quietly, who live honestly—they deserve better.
Canada, for instance, with its social safety nets, cost-of-living adjustments, unionized protections, and minimum wage policies, ensures that public servants are not forced into desperation. Public sector roles, even at entry levels, come with dignity, stability, and fair wages. Workers are supported with healthcare, retirement benefits, housing subsidies in some cases, and mental health care—not left to fend for themselves.
Bangladesh should also consider a new pay scale, one based on justice and realism. Pay people enough so they can live with dignity and serve with purpose. A decent salary, paid in local currency, will not harm the economy. On the contrary, it will boost economic circulation, increase demand, and drive growth. A more satisfied, stable, and committed public service will, in turn, enrich the state.
A government cannot expect quality service from hungry workers. Let’s address the basic needs first. Reward honesty not with poverty—but with peace of mind. Punish corruption strictly. Channel that stolen wealth back into the system. Just doing that could allow us to double current salaries without printing extra money.
It’s time to acknowledge the value of integrity—not just in words, but in action. Let those who wish to live honestly be empowered to do so. That’s how we move forward. That’s how we build a stronger nation.
