Who will take responsibility for the plane crash

Bangladesh is mourning again. In a cruel twist of fate, another July has become a month of national tragedy. This time, the devastation came not from gunfire, but from the sky a Bangladesh Air Force training aircraft crashed into Milestone School and College in Dhaka’s Uttara, killing and injuring schoolchildren.

Within moments, images of scorched classrooms and burned children spread across social media, sending shockwaves across the country. For the victims' families, the pain is beyond comprehension. For the nation, it is a collective heartbreak.

As news of the crash broke, chaos unfolded. Desperate parents searched hospitals, clutching photos and crying out names. Social media was flooded with pleas pictures of missing children, student ID cards, urgent appeals for blood.

Ordinary citizens responded immediately, rushing to the National Institute of Burn and Plastic Surgery and other hospitals to donate blood. Crowds formed quickly, not only at hospitals but at the crash site—some to help, many to watch, and far too many to film. Rescue efforts were hampered by the sheer number of bystanders.

Despite the overwhelming situation, military and emergency services responded quickly. Helicopters arrived with army personnel, fires were brought under control, and evacuations began. But even then, ambulances struggled to get through due to the crowd. Volunteers tried to clear paths, but the grief-stricken and the curious blocked progress.

At the burn institute, ambulances arrived in succession, carrying children with life-threatening injuries. Parents rushed forward, hoping to find their children some collapsed at the sight of them, others broke down when they couldn't.

Dr. Shawon Bin Rahman, resident surgeon at the institute, said nearly all those admitted were students, and their conditions were critical. A nationwide appeal for blood followed, especially for rare negative blood types.

Inside and outside the hospital, a single question echoed: Why did this happen and who will take responsibility?

Speaking to reporters, Law Adviser Dr. Asif Nazrul called the crash “one of the worst tragedies in our national history.” He assured that the government would leave no stone unturned in providing medical treatment and psychological support. "What we’ve lost today is irreplaceable," he said. "There are no words for this grief."

Chief Adviser of the interim government Dr. Muhammad Yunus released a video statement:

“What can we say to the parents of these children? We cannot even answer ourselves. Their innocent faces are still with us. This is a national tragedy.”

He declared Tuesday a national day of mourning in memory of the victims.

According to the Inter-Service Public Relations Directorate (ISPR), the pilot, Flight Lieutenant Md. Towkir Islam, made a final attempt to avoid densely populated areas before crashing into the school’s two-story building. His efforts likely prevented a greater catastrophe, but the question remains: Why was a training flight allowed over a city like Dhaka in the first place?

Experts, aviation analysts, and grieving families are now demanding answers. Bangladesh is one of the most densely populated countries in the world. Why, then, are training flights being conducted over its most crowded city?

International aviation standards including guidelines from the International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO) recommend rural or sparsely populated areas for pilot training to minimize the risk of civilian casualties in the event of an accident.

Authorities had long planned to build an international airport in the Madaripur–Shariatpur region. Nearly Tk 100 crore was spent on feasibility studies and designs. Yet, over a decade later, the project remains in limbo while training aircraft continue flying over crowded urban neighborhoods.

This crash has reignited those long-shelved conversations. Aviation experts are now calling for the urgent relocation of both airports and flight training zones outside of Dhaka. Places like Sylhet, Cox’s Bazar, or riverine and char regions are being proposed as safer alternatives.

“Most of our airports were built 60 to 70 years ago,” one expert noted. “Back then, these areas were sparsely populated. Today, urban growth has transformed them into high-risk zones.”

Back at the crash site and in the hospitals, the anguish continues. Parents sob. Volunteers pray. Doctors work tirelessly. The nation watches in stunned silence.

“These children were not just theirs,” said Dr. Yunus. “They were all our children. And they are gone.”

The loss cannot be undone. But the least we can do is learn from this tragedy and act swiftly and decisively. Because no parent should ever have to find their child in a hospital bed or a morgue because of an avoidable mistake. For the sake of safety, for the memory of the children lost, and for the future of others we must act.

Researcher and Columnist