It might have been a laughing matter had it not been so ridiculous. Just days after the government info permeated ether to land up on mobile phones to be cautious about safe food, the court ordered removal of “unhygienic” snack selling mobile units especially in the vicinity of educational institutions.
Umm-yes! Children's health has to be protected from dodgy ingredients. Except that's a tall order in itself. From cut-fruit to savouries, foot-sellers converge at convenient traffic snarl points with their offerings, including bottled water that probably comes from dubious sources no matter what the branding suggests. That makes sense given how young scavengers carefully pick through rubbish for discarded plastic bottles. Whichever agency has been given the onerous responsibility will be left scratching its cumulative head to figure out where to begin.
Ramadan, the month of feasting, is barely a month away, and from the solitary sellers to posh outlets, Iftar and Sehri items will be in high demand. The oil used for frying them and the luscious mix of fresh and stale, all go into the pot with little remaining unsold. Special units with media in tow will make sensational discoveries that leave everyone tut-tutting.
It's akin to preparations for a natural vagary such as a powerful storm, whereby man and animals will stand in shelters for as long as the dubious watery khichuri is available or allowable to the palate.
If raids were consistent most roadside eateries would be out of business. That isn't the intent. It is always setting an example with punitive fines. The allegations give rise to a sense of frustration.
Dead chickens have roaring markets in the wee hours. Tired, exhausted and hungry cattle often give up on their long journeys in pitiable conditions before reaching destinations. The carcasses have willing buyers. Kitchen conditions of most eateries are enough to make appetites baulk. The absence of follow-ups reduces the temporary setback as a “cost of doing business.” And as we know, Rokonuddowla, the man that stirred the imagination by knuckle rapping some of the big names in eateries, languished in his future career.
Street food -- jhaal muri, singara, samosas, phuchka -- is a ubiquitous part of daily life. Trying to monitor them would be impossible. But where's the check and balance of online catering? Or for that matter the elaborate wedding meals? In an ideal world, the business community should have, as part of self-discipline, set up committees to ensure kitchen hygiene.
Gastroenterological afflictions have grown alarmingly, prompting physicians to advise not to eat out of home. That too has issues. With growing dependence on home help, families,
especially small ones are fighting a losing battle when dealing with the cleanliness of utensils, washing garden produce, and even personal hygiene. Whether in cities or villages, it's commonplace to wash and wipe plates and cutlery before consuming meals.
The pandemic reaffirmed home grown truths -- one of which was washing hands, arms and faces as frequently as possible. The sanitizers and washing facilities, positioned conveniently outside shops and shopping centres and offices, lie decaying due to a lack of use. That's an untimely demise akin to the security checks that were introduced after the Holy Artisan tragedy.
Too often, do we forget tragedy never strikes with warning. Too often, does a realization dawn that we still haven't learnt. Too often, do governments overlook that awareness is only part of the solution …
Mahmudur Rahman is a writer, columnist, broadcaster, and communications specialist.
