A few days ago, I found myself doing something I had never done before -- planning my week around fuel.
Not meetings, not deadlines, not family time. Fuel.
Like many others, I used to refill whenever needed. It was routine, almost invisible. Today, that routine has been replaced by uncertainty.
Queues stretch for hours -- sometimes up to half a day. And even after a recent fuel price increase of up to 16.6%, which took effect on April 19, the queues remain.
At first glance, this looks like a supply crisis. But from what many of us are experiencing on the ground, the issue runs deeper. This is not just about fuel. It is about how people behave when systems come under stress.
The early days followed a familiar pattern. News and uncertainty triggered caution. People began topping up earlier, some storing extra fuel. As queues formed, they sent a powerful signal: Something must be wrong. That signal quickly became a narrative -- that fuel might run out.
And once that narrative took hold, behaviour followed.
Even if supply did not fully collapse, demand became synchronized. Everyone showed up at the same time. Pumps ran dry faster, queues grew longer, and the cycle reinforced itself.
In the first week of March alone, daily diesel allocations by state-owned distributors reportedly ran at nearly double the usual volume -- not because of a supply surge, but because of synchronized panic demand.
But what we are seeing now is no longer just panic.
It has evolved into something more structured, and more difficult to reverse.
A grey market for fuel has taken shape, where fuel bought at official prices is resold at significantly higher rates, sometimes double.
In 16 northern and northwestern districts, diesel has been openly sold at Tk 15 to Tk 20 above the government price. And within Dhaka, octane is being sold at almost double the price -- 250 to 300 taka per liter.
What is particularly concerning is that this is no longer limited to organized groups or syndicates. Ordinary users are participating. In some cases, the incentive is strong enough that reselling fuel can generate more income than regular work, for example ride sharing or rent-a-car services..
The consequences are already visible.
Ride-sharing availability has dropped. Daily mobility has been affected. And across the city, countless productive hours are being lost in queues.
At this stage, the problem is no longer only about supply. It is also about how demand is structured -- or more accurately, how it is not.
It is worth noting that the crisis is not purely one of collective behaviour. Distribution itself has shown serious institutional gaps.
Despite imports actually rising in recent months, shortages have persisted, a signal that the problem lies not just at the pump but in coordination failures across the supply chain, from state-owned distributors to depot management.
Fixing behaviour will not be enough if the distribution system continues to release fuel in irregular surges rather than steady, managed flows.
Basic principles from operations management, often described under Queueing Theory, suggest that when a system becomes overwhelmed, the goal is not just to increase supply, but to distribute demand more evenly. When too many users arrive at the same time, even an adequate system begins to fail.
Right now, our fuel system is facing exactly that problem: Too many people, at the same place, at the same time.
There are no perfect solutions, but a few practical adjustments could help ease the pressure, particularly for everyday users.
One approach could be an odd-even vehicle access system, where vehicles refuel on alternate days based on their number plates, with one open day (for example, Friday) for all.
This would not reduce total demand, but it would spread it across the week. It is worth noting that some districts have already begun implementing versions of this manually, and the government is reportedly developing a digital platform to formalize such tracking.
What is needed now is consistent national rollout, not piecemeal application. For users, this could mean shorter, more predictable queues instead of daily uncertainty.
Another measure could be introducing an off-peak incentive, such as a small discount during late evening and night hours -- for instance, between 8 pm and 8 am.
Since fuel prices have already increased, even a modest price difference could encourage some users to shift their timing. If this benefit is linked to the newly introduced Fuel Pass system (ie, 8 pm to 8 am Fuel Pass holders will get 15% discount), it could also accelerate its adoption, helping to bring more transactions into a trackable framework.
Rationing, which is already in place, may also need recalibration. When limits are set too low, users are forced to return more frequently, adding to congestion.
A farmer in Lalmonirhat needing 13 litres of diesel daily to irrigate 33 bighas of Boro paddy is currently allowed just two litres, and must travel 12 kilometres to collect them.
In Dhaka, a car needs to go to the pump twice a week instead of once to get the same amount of fuel. Slightly increasing the allowable quantity per visit for essential users while keeping overall controls intact -- could reduce the number of trips and, in turn, the pressure on queues.
A smaller operational adjustment could also make a difference: Introducing a dedicated nozzle for self-driven vehicles at fuel stations.
Not everyone can afford to wait 10 to 12 hours in line. A targeted measure like this would not solve the broader issue, but it could provide some relief to a segment that is currently disproportionately affected.
These are not comprehensive fixes, nor will they eliminate the grey market entirely. But they share a common goal: Reducing simultaneous demand and making access more predictable.
At the same time, there is a broader question that cannot be ignored.
Crises often test how societies respond under pressure. Ideally, they encourage restraint and cooperation. Yet what we are witnessing is the rapid normalization of opportunistic behaviour, where systemic stress becomes a source of personal gain.
This makes recovery harder.
Because once incentives shift from need to profit, stabilizing the system requires more than enforcement. It requires rebuilding trust and reshaping behaviour.
The long queues we see today are not just a logistical problem. They are a visible symptom of a deeper imbalance -- between supply, incentives, and collective response.
Addressing that imbalance will take time. But recognising it clearly is the first step.
Because in the end, the resilience of any system depends not only on what it can provide, but on how people choose to use it.
Manjeno Raihan Khan is a CEO of a PR agency and freelance writer.