Dr. Mohd Mizanur Rahman
By Dr. Mohd Mizanur Rahman
In Bangladesh, land is not just a piece of property—it is often the result of a lifetime’s labour, passed down through generations, a symbol of identity, security, and pride. However, the process of securing legal ownership of land has become a nightmare for ordinary citizens due to the deep-rooted and institutionalised corruption within the country’s land registration offices. The Narayanganj Land Registration Office, a place that should uphold justice and transparency, stands today as a glaring example of a broken system plagued by exploitation, manipulation, and collaboration between officials and dishonest deed writers (locally known as dolil lekhok).
This article explores how these networks operate, who suffers most, and what must be done to rescue our land system from the grip of corrupt elements.
It is no secret to those familiar with the workings of land offices in Bangladesh that corruption is not a matter of isolated incidents—it is part of the system. The chain of malpractice usually begins at the very entrance of the land registration offices. Anyone trying to register land, update a mutation, or verify ownership is immediately approached or directed to middlemen or deed writers who claim to "handle everything smoothly."
While deed writers (dolil lekhok) are legally part of the registration process, many of them have grown into informal power brokers. In the Narayanganj Land Registration Office, they often collaborate closely with officers, clerks, and even registrars to manipulate documents, extort money, and delay or deny services to legitimate landowners.
Take the case of Mr. Abdul Karim (a pseudonym), a retired government schoolteacher who attempted to register inherited land in Fatullah, Narayanganj. Armed with all valid documents, including the original khatian, mutation certificate, and a tax clearance receipt, he approached the land office without a broker. He soon found himself being ignored, his file “lost” multiple times, and officials giving vague answers.
Frustrated, Mr. Karim was finally told that unless he engaged a particular deed writer (who demanded Tk. 25,000 in unofficial payments), his file would not move forward. When he refused to pay, he received threats of legal complications and forged objections from so-called "disputed parties."
The most disturbing part of this dysfunction is not just that bribery exists—but that it has become standard practice. According to insiders and victims alike, most officers in land registration offices are in direct partnership with specific deed writers. In exchange for a cut of the bribes, these officials allow the deed writers to run the show.
Here’s how the typical racket works: Any person entering the office is immediately identified by unofficial gatekeepers—often tea sellers, office assistants, or deed writers themselves. Citizens who try to go through official procedures are misled or given incomplete information to frustrate them into using a broker.Without a bribe or a middleman, documents are ‘lost’, signatures are ‘delayed’, and excuses like ‘server down’ or ‘file not approved’ become common. In some cases, false legal objections or land disputes are fabricated to extort more money or delay proceedings indefinitely. Perhaps the most dangerous trend is the alteration or forging of original documents. Real landowners find out that their names have been mysteriously removed, or that a new "owner" has appeared in the registry—thanks to forged signatures and collusion at multiple levels.
The implications of such corruption go far beyond individual suffering. They contribute to land disputes, violence, loss of trust in public institutions, and even financial ruin for many families. People holding original deeds sometimes find their land re-registered in someone else’s name. Disputes triggered by fake documentation take years or even decades to resolve, often outliving the original owners. Foreign investors and local entrepreneurs are reluctant to invest in land development due to the unpredictable nature of land ownership documents. Marginalised populations, especially widows, the elderly, and illiterate villagers, are the most frequent victims. Lacking the knowledge or money to fight the system, they often give up their rightful property or sell it under duress.
Although the government has launched efforts such as digitised land records, e-mutation systems, and online deed verification, these remain largely cosmetic. In most offices like Narayanganj, staff still resist digital processes. They claim “the server is down,” or “it’s not accepted by higher authority,” and then redirect citizens to paper-based channels, where manipulation is easier.
Despite widespread complaints, disciplinary actions are rare. Officers involved in fraudulent cases are usually transferred rather than prosecuted. Meanwhile, honest officers are often silenced or transferred when they try to resist the established nexus of corruption.
To reclaim the dignity and trust of the land management system, drastic steps must be taken. Here are some concrete recommendations: All land transactions—sale, mutation, registration—must be done via secure online portals with real-time updates, OTP verification, and automated status updates. Citizens must be able to access maps, records, and ownership histories online, with digital verification tools to prevent forgery. Each dolil writer must be registered, licensed, and monitored. Those involved in corrupt practices must be banned and prosecuted. Citizens and even land office insiders must be able to report corruption anonymously without fear of reprisal. Surveillance systems must be placed in all key sections of land offices, with audio-visual records preserved for at least 6 months. A dedicated, independent body should be established to investigate complaints related to land manipulation and officer misconduct.
The Narayanganj Land Registration Office is not an exception, it is a mirror reflecting the reality of land administration in most parts of Bangladesh. The network of corrupt officials and rogue deed writers must be dismantled if we are to protect the rights of honest landowners and ensure justice in one of the most critical sectors of governance.
Land is the backbone of security and dignity for our citizens. We cannot afford to let corruption continue to steal it from the hands of the rightful owners. The time for reform is now—not just for Narayanganj, but for every district in Bangladesh. Only then can we build a nation where justice is not sold at the doorsteps of public offices.