The concerts keep getting cancelled. Who pays the price?

There is something deeply wrong with the way Bangladesh’s concert industry is functioning at this very point.

Concert
Representative image. Photo: Noor A Alam/TBS

A concert is announced. The artist is confirmed, not mattering whether that’s a national or international artist. The venue is selected. Tickets go on sale. Thousands of people spend a bucket amount of money. Plans are made. Friends make arrangements. Some even travel from outside Dhaka.

And then, one or two days prior to the show, or sometimes even hours before it is supposed to begin, the audience receives the same message:

“It is with deep regret to inform you that (a concert) scheduled for (a specific date) will not be held as planned. We sincerely apologise for the inconvenience and disappointment caused by this unforeseen situation, which is beyond the organisers’ control. The rescheduled date will be announced as soon as possible.”

At this point, it is no longer reasonable to look at every cancellation as an isolated incident. That is why the question of a monopoly in Bangladesh’s concert market deserves to be discussed.

On 25 September, Dhaka was supposed to host ‘Sense It with Murtaza Qizilbash’, featuring Pakistani singer Murtaza Qizilbash and Habib Wahid. On the same day, “mAhx Republic” was scheduled to feature Mustafa Zahid, Ali Azmat, Jal The Band, and Nagar Baul James. On 26 September, Pakistani band Kaavish was supposed to perform with Shironamhin and Meghdol at “Wave Fest: Enjoy the Full Moon”, organised by Prime Wave Communication. All three were postponed.

The Kaavish concert was originally scheduled for 5 December 2025. It was postponed after the organisers failed to obtain the necessary permission. Nearly ten months later, Prime Wave Communication announced 26 September 2026 as the new date. Existing ticket holders were told that their old tickets would remain valid, while new tickets were also put on sale.

Then, on 24 September, just two days before the promised comeback, the concert was postponed again.

Prime Wave said that despite completing the necessary preparations, approvals and formalities, it had been directed by the relevant authorities not to proceed. The explanation does not erase the experience at this point.

I personally spent Tk4,500 across two of these concert plans, Tk3,000 for Kaavish and Tk1,500 for Mustafa Zahid. That is not money I spent on an abstract possibility. I paid for a concert that had been announced, promoted and sold as an event that was going to happen.

And I am not the only person affected. This is where the monopoly question becomes important.

A monopoly does not necessarily have to look like a company putting a giant sign outside the entire music industry saying, “we control everything.” Market concentration can also be experienced through the repeated presence of the same organisers, promoters, commercial partners, ticketing systems and networks behind major events.

Take Kaavish as an example. The same organiser, Prime Wave Communication, was behind the original December 2025 concert and the September 2026 rescheduled event. The first was postponed over permission issues, the second was postponed again almost immediately before the new date.

The concern, therefore, is not simply who organised one concert. It is whether Bangladesh has created a concert ecosystem where a relatively narrow group of organisers can repeatedly announce large-scale events, collect dragon money from audiences, and then leave those audiences stranded waiting whenever the institutional process fails.

The problem is not necessarily as simple as blaming organisers either. That is a broken system from both ends.

The issue is bigger than Kaavish. Bigger than Mustafa Zahid. Bigger than Murtaza Qizilbash. Bigger than one organiser.

It is about who gets to control the concert pipeline in Bangladesh, who gets to decide when an event is ready to be sold, and who ultimately carries the financial consequences when that decision turns out to be wrong.