Every evening in Dhaka, Chattogram and other large cities, roadside food stalls become part of urban life. They sell fuchka, jhalmuri, tea, paratha and fast food to students, workers, commuters and low-income residents who need affordable meals. These stalls are not a marginal feature of the city; they are part of its daily food economy. Yet they continue to operate in a grey zone, neither fully recognised as legitimate businesses nor effectively regulated as food establishments.

This legal uncertainty creates problems for everyone. Vendors remain vulnerable to eviction, seizure of goods, harassment and chadabaji, while consumers face avoidable food-safety risks and city authorities struggle with footpath congestion, waste disposal and traffic management. The solution is not to erase roadside food stalls from the city. The solution is to recognise, license, regulate and protect them through a practical framework that fits their scale.

Bangladesh does not suffer from a complete absence of law. The Food Safety Act, 2013 already regulates food production, processing, supply, marketing and sale. City corporations also operate under municipal governance laws, including the Local Government (City Corporation) Act, 2009. The problem is more specific: Bangladesh lacks a targeted, vendor-specific system for recognising roadside food vendors, issuing simple licences, linking them to proportionate fees, enforcing hygiene standards and protecting them from arbitrary action.

The country has not been entirely inactive. In 2022, the Dhaka North City Corporation took a significant step through its Mirpur-10 pilot project, which allowed footpath shops to operate in designated zones during fixed hours. That experiment matters because it shows that Bangladesh can manage vendors without relying only on eviction. However, a pilot project is not the same as a legal regime. What is still missing is a broader framework that can be applied consistently across city corporation areas and, where appropriate, municipalities.

At present, many vendors operate without clear legal recognition under municipal licensing systems. This leaves them in an insecure position. Their carts or stalls may be removed, seized or destroyed during enforcement drives, while vendors themselves often remain uncertain about where they may operate, how they can obtain permission, what standards they must follow and what remedies they have if officials or private actors abuse them.

The scale of the issue is too large to ignore. A BRAC Institute of Governance and Development study notes that Dhaka alone is estimated to have around 300,000 street vendors. Even if roadside food vendors are only one part of that wider vending economy, their presence is economically and socially significant. Yet because much of this activity remains informal, the state has limited reliable data, limited regulatory reach and limited ability to distinguish compliant vendors from unsafe or obstructive operations.

This vacuum also strengthens informal power. Research on informal governance systems in Dhaka has shown how street vending is often shaped by unofficial payments, local political control and contested claims over public space. Reports in The Financial Express have similarly described the burden of illegal payments on vendors in busy commercial areas. These payments do not improve public health, do not build footpath infrastructure and do not enter the public treasury. They simply reward those who control the street outside the law.

A formal system would not mean imposing an unrealistic tax burden on poor vendors. Roadside food sellers already contribute indirectly to the economy when they buy ingredients, pay transport costs, rent storage space, use utilities and support supply chains. The gap is that many remain outside the direct licensing and tax net. A modest, transparent and proportionate fee system would be fairer than informal extortion because it would create legal recognition in return for protection, predictable rules and basic services.

Food safety is another reason for reform. Studies on food hygiene among street food vendors in Bangladesh have identified serious gaps in handwashing facilities and hygienic practices. A licensing system could make basic standards enforceable without destroying livelihoods. Vendors should not be expected to comply with hygiene rules if the state gives them no stable place to work, no practical training and no access to waste disposal or clean water. Regulation must therefore combine standards with support.

Urban management also requires balance. Unregulated stalls can block footpaths, narrow roads and create waste problems. But indiscriminate eviction simply pushes vendors from one place to another and often recreates the same problem elsewhere. Designated vending zones, time-sharing arrangements and mobile-cart rules can protect pedestrian movement while preserving livelihoods. The DNCC pilot already points in this direction; the next step is to give such initiatives a clear legal foundation.

Other jurisdictions show that street vending can be regulated without criminalising livelihood. Singapore uses a licensing framework under the Singapore Food Agency, with specific requirements for food shops and food stalls and published licence fees. California’s Safe Sidewalk Vending Act decriminalised sidewalk vending while allowing local authorities to regulate for health, safety and welfare. India’s Street Vendors (Protection of Livelihood and Regulation of Street Vending) Act, 2014 recognises vendors, provides for certificates of vending, vending zones, Town Vending Committees and protection against harassment.

Bangladesh need not copy any foreign model mechanically. It should build its own system around city corporations and municipalities. The first step should be a legal definition of roadside food vendors and mobile food stalls. The second should be a simple registration process linked to digital identity cards, location permission and a nominal annual licence fee. The fee may be fixed or turnover-based, but it must be low enough to avoid pushing vendors back into informality.

Third, city corporations should identify vending zones and time slots in consultation with vendors, residents, shop owners, transport authorities and public-health officials. Fourth, licence renewal should depend on basic, realistic standards: safe food handling, covered food, clean water where practicable, waste disposal, no permanent obstruction of footpaths and cooperation with inspection. Fifth, payments should be made through official receipts or digital channels so that lawful fees replace chadabaji.

Finally, the framework must include protection. A registered vendor who follows the rules should not lose goods to sudden seizure without notice, inventory or an appeal process. Enforcement should be targeted at unsafe food practices, obstruction, repeated non-compliance and unauthorised occupation, not at poverty itself. A grievance mechanism would help vendors report extortion, harassment or arbitrary removal and would also help city authorities respond to public complaints.

The roadside food economy should not be treated as a nuisance to be erased. It is a livelihood system, a public-food network and an urban-governance challenge. Leaving it informal allows private extortion to replace public regulation and weakens the rule of law. Bringing it into a fair licensing, taxation and protection regime would improve public health, strengthen urban order, protect vulnerable workers and create a more transparent revenue base.

Taxation, in this context, should not be viewed as punishment. It should be viewed as recognition. Bangladesh should not criminalise the street; it should organise it.