Of course, medicines can indeed be made from flour, semolina, sometimes even sugar and salt! It’s possible. Just like in that story where Jamal told Kamal, “You know what? My uncle can jump off a 10-story building!” Hearing this, Kamal asked, “Did he?” Jamal replied, “Of course he did. And then what happened? He died.”
Similarly, some people do create “life-saving” medicines using flour, semolina, sugar, and salt—but instead of saving lives, they take them. It can be said that the spread of counterfeit and adulterated medicines in Bangladesh has now emerged as a severe public health crisis.
A recent in-depth report published by BBC Bangla revealed that due to political instability and weak governance, counterfeit and adulterated medicines have resurfaced in the drug market. In truth, the widespread availability of fake medicines—from cities to the remotest rural areas—proves that this is not an isolated issue but rather a deep-rooted institutional failure.
Even doctors are, in many cases, unable to distinguish between real and fake medicines. As several life-saving drugs, including ‘Albumin Injections,’ have been counterfeited, patients have died—or could die—from their use.
Experts have stated that counterfeit and low-quality ingredients are being used especially in gastric and antibiotic medications. According to a study published in the international journal Nature, 10% of the medicines sold in Dhaka and nearly 20% outside Dhaka are either counterfeit or adulterated.
Moreover, it is clear from the aforementioned report that a well-organized criminal network is behind the production and distribution of fake drugs. Traders report that secret factories are operating in areas like Keraniganj and Kamrangirchar.
These deadly products are being distributed nationwide, even through online platforms and courier services. The lack of effective policing and administrative action—especially after the July political upheaval—has made the situation even more alarming.
This problem of fake medicines has occurred in other countries too, at various times. History shows that in 1937, over a hundred people died in the U.S. after a drug called Elixir Sulfanilamide was found to contain a toxic solvent.
In Nigeria, in 2008, a cough syrup intended for children was contaminated with diethylene glycol, a poisonous ingredient, resulting in the deaths of 84 children. In India, Pakistan, and as recently as 2022 in The Gambia, many children died after consuming kidney-damaging cough syrups.
While the issue of counterfeit medicine is not unique to Bangladesh, the difference lies in how other countries respond—one such tragedy prompts swift and strict government action. But here, we respond with helpless resignation, as if saying, “What rotten luck!” Despite having eyes, we act blind. It's as though we refuse to see what’s right in front of us.
According to the 2023 Bangladeshi law, producing or distributing fake medicines carries a punishment of life imprisonment. However, in reality, no one has ever been sentenced accordingly.
Meanwhile, the uneducated and impoverished public is "happy" to get a 20-taka medicine for only 8 taka—although that fleeting happiness disappears in no time, like camphor. Many who buy medicines in hopes of recovery don’t even realize they might be consuming plaster of Paris instead of plasma.
A state's most basic humanitarian duty is to ensure that people don’t become sicker from seeking treatment. But it feels like we’re moving backward.
In this era of technology—when humans are preparing to go to Mars and regularly launching rockets to the moon—we remain stuck with flour-and-semolina pills! This is a tragic farce, and our future generations are becoming the most pitiful victims of it.
