On August 18, people, especially women, were celebrating. The Bangladesh Road Transport Corporation (BRTC) launched an ambitious project: a dedicated public transport service for women, known as the ‘Pink Bus Service’. To make the initiative truly special, female drivers have been trained to operate these buses. Currently available on a limited scale within Dhaka, Bogura and Chattogram, the project sounds promising at first glance. Given the current state of our road transport system, such a service is undoubtedly essential. However, a crucial question lingers: will this initiative sustain itself and gain nationwide popularity? Because right after the project’s launch, complaints are rising. And most of the complaints indicate a structural problem. That’s why the outcome of this venture remains uncertain; it is undeniably a commendable step forward.

Dhaka, a bustling megacity, frequently finds itself stuck in a transport tug-of-war. Expert opinions and newspaper reports often present contradictory pictures. Many transport researchers argue that there are not enough buses or large public vehicles on the roads; instead, battery-powered auto-rickshaws and motorcycles dominate the streets. Additionally, illegal hawker markets and broken footpaths further choke traffic flow. On the other hand, media reports often claim that there are simply too many vehicles on the road. Whatever the core cause may be, the reality remains unchanged: our roads are neither friendly nor safe for pedestrians.

Women, in particular, suffer the most on these roads. The issue goes far beyond sexual harassment or the uncomfortable male gaze embedded in our social structure; the journey itself is an agonising struggle. Most commuters in the capital travel relatively short distances — often between 3 and 18 km. Yet, severe traffic congestion and a lack of reliable transport create a constant sense of dread and urgency.

Rush hours are particularly cruel to female passengers. Bus conductors often refuse to board women when the bus is crowded, driven purely by profit margins. Although the government declared all public transport as ‘semi-local’ to allow students to avail of the ‘half-fare’ facility, there are no enforced limits on passenger capacity. Consequently, boarding a bus turns into a chaotic struggle—one that women are forced to enter due to a lack of alternatives. Helpers and conductors frequently misbehave, calculating that a female passenger takes up space where two or three male passengers could fit standing. This money-minded mentality is gradually ruining our public transport system. The daily harassment and systemic struggle just to commute a short distance are mentally exhausting. Have we truly accounted for this reality?

Working women who cannot afford personal vehicles have no choice but to rely on buses, as rickshaws and ride-sharing bikes are too expensive for daily use. Ironically, while the bus remains the most affordable option, it has been made uncomfortable for everyone. In fact, even many men get frustrated at the mere suggestion of taking a public bus.

In this context, a dedicated transport service for women is a welcome relief. However, Bangladesh has witnessed similar short-lived projects in the past. The real question is: how thoroughly has the authority planned this initiative? Transport is not a luxury product that people will patiently wait for; it is a daily necessity. The Pink Bus is navigating city streets with noble goals of women’s empowerment, but what is the situation on the ground?

While the initiative has received positive media coverage, commuters report that many buses run largely empty. Target passengers complain that bus arrivals are highly erratic. This unpredictability is inevitable given the limited fleet size spread across 14 different routes in Dhaka. Operating too few buses over too many routes makes maintaining a reliable schedule nearly impossible.

And that’s exactly what happened here. There is no fixed schedule for the pink bus service; BRTC has only shared the available routes. As a result, catching the bus feels more like a stroke of luck than a reliable service right now. When will the bus arrive? Nobody knows for sure. Passengers simply have to wait or rely on pure luck and perfect timing — and that is the biggest issue. The service will only appeal to those who want to ride the bus out of curiosity. But for working women? Their everyday struggle remains unchanged. A well-structured plan and immediate improvements are urgently needed.

Instead of stretching resources thin across 14 routes, BRTC should have initially focused on 2 or 3 of the busiest corridors where female commuters face the worst ordeals — such as Mirpur to Gulistan or Gulistan to Abdullahpur. Starting on a smaller, high-demand scale creates concentrated demand, ensures predictable service intervals, and builds passenger trust. Once the model proves successful and creates high demand, even private operators might be encouraged to join the venture.

The Pink Bus Service is a step in the right direction, but its execution requires strategic refinement. The opportunity to transform women’s daily commute exists, but smart operational tactics are currently missing. It is crucial that the authorities address these logistical oversights now, so this vital initiative does not become just another failed experiment, but rather a sustainable service that flourishes across Bangladesh.

Amirul Abedin is a journalist and writer.

[The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the position of The Daily Bonik Barta or the organisation they work for.]