When Bangladesh's interim government unveiled Nagorik Sheba Bangladesh in May 2025, the ambition was unmistakable. The platform promised to collapse the country's sprawling bureaucracy into a single digital window, offering citizens access to hundreds of public services without brokers, bribes, or repeated trips to government offices. It was framed as a cornerstone of a new phase of digital governance-citizen-centric, efficient, and transparent.
Seven months on, the reality on the ground tells a more complicated story.
The pilot programme established six Nagorik Sheba centres across Dhaka-Gulshan, Uttara, Nilkhet, Gulistan, Mohammadpur, and Banasree-run by twelve trained entrepreneurs. These centres were meant to operate alongside a "super app", combining physical access points with digital infrastructure. At the launch, officials spoke confidently of more than 450 services eventually being delivered, from birth registration to land records and passports, all routed through a secure National Service Bus linking multiple ministries.
In practice, entrepreneurs say they have been able to process only four or five types of applications in total. The most basic obstacle has been the absence of a reliable internet connection. Despite official assurances, none of the centres has received a dedicated line. Operators share mobile data from personal phones, an arrangement wholly inadequate for a platform designed around real-time digital integration. For a system dependent on uninterrupted connectivity, even brief network drops translate into complete service paralysis.
The consequences have been stark. Centres that were supposed to draw steady footfall now sit largely empty. Entrepreneurs report daily earnings of less than BDT 100-far below what a simple form-filling shop could make. Many say they feel reduced to acting as clerks for online applications that citizens could submit themselves, while those seeking faster results still turn to traditional brokers. The very middleman culture Nagorik Sheba was meant to dismantle has, in effect, reasserted itself.
The initiative's architects had emphasised that technology would do the heavy lifting. Applications, once submitted, would be digitally routed to the relevant offices, tracked through unique IDs, and processed without paper. But that vision depends on deep backend integration across ministries-an undertaking that remains incomplete. Entrepreneurs complain that portals are not synchronised and services frequently appear "under maintenance", replicating the delays and uncertainty of the old system in digital form.
Responsibility for implementation sits largely with the ICT Division, working alongside innovation bodies such as Aspire to Innovate. Ahead of the launch, officials spoke of a new data governance framework and interoperability standards to ensure security, privacy, and seamless service delivery. Yet the absence of basic contractual arrangements-particularly for internet access-has undermined those assurances.
According to a2i project manager that internet connections require formal contracts and that a policy process is under way through inter-ministerial coordination. While acknowledging earlier difficulties, he suggested the situation was being addressed. For entrepreneurs struggling to keep their centres afloat, such explanations offer little immediate relief.
The gap between promise and performance has fuelled criticism that Nagorik Sheba was launched before its foundations were ready. Supporters counter that any project of this scale will face teething troubles, particularly in a system long resistant to reform. They point to the government's late-2025 workshops across all 64 districts as evidence that lessons are being absorbed and adjustments made.
Nagorik Sheba remains a powerful idea: a state that meets citizens where they are, rather than forcing them to navigate a maze of offices and intermediaries. Whether it becomes a model for inclusive digital governance or a cautionary tale of haste will depend on how quickly connectivity gaps are closed, systems integrated, and frontline operators supported. For now, it stands as a symbol of Bangladesh's digital transition-rich in intent, but still struggling to translate vision into everyday reality.