Who didn’t hear this little piece of advice in their early years? Teachers, parents and didactic elders never fail to sound the caution as children grow up. Their tone and diction vary but the message remains loud and clear: Beware of your tongue! Use it wisely. Don’t use cuss words. Don’t hurt people’s feelings through your words or action, etc.

Shipping minister Shajahan Khan must have heard a line or two when he was a kid. His father was an educationist and politician. A lineage like this inspires confidence in the descendants’ ability to talk, behave and take decisions wisely. But something went wrong along the way. In his frantic pursuit of power, fame and riches in his advanced years, Shajahan Khan seems to have forgotten some of those childhood lessons.

This is the story of a sad, sad star in our political firmament that finds itself in a desperate battle to outshine rival stars to get attention. Unfortunately for our star, all it gets is a bad rap, for the light it sends out to attract eyes ends up hurting them.

As it turns out, Mr Khan’s inability to manage his affairs is not only pathetic, it is also quite worrisome.

Recently, after a strike enforced by the transport workers, Mr Khan’s involvement with it generated front-page news. He has reportedly played a key role in orchestrating the protest, as executive president of Bangladesh Road Transport Workers’ Association, the country’s leading coalition of transport workers. He even went to the extent of defending it publicly, but refused to call it a ‘strike,’ even though it had all the hallmarks of one. “The workers have abstained from work voluntarily,” he said.

I wonder how Shajahan Khan convinced himself that he could manage his twin roles as a representative of the public and a representative of a certain professional group without being affected by the conflicting interests. I imagine it took a lot of convincing.

The effects of that ‘voluntary’ abstention were felt for nearly 40 hours, which were marked by public suffering, destruction of property, clashes, injuries and even death. The whole country was held hostage because a sworn defender of the rule of law and his associates couldn’t just swallow a court verdict punishing two convicted drivers that he happens to represent.

In hindsight, it was also a reaffirmation of the fact that the cheapest commodity on our soil is the life of the general public. Anyone can do anything with it – anyone with power and allegiance to the powers that be– and try to bend the law to their will to make sure there are no consequences. And they can get off scot-free, especially if they have a ministerial portfolio.

I wonder how Shajahan Khan convinced himself that he could manage his twin roles as a representative of the public and a representative of a certain professional group without being affected by the conflicting interests. I imagine it took a lot of convincing.

In the past, we have had politicians who seemed impervious to accusations in their heyday, and would refuse to take responsibilities for the consequences of their actions. But they fell eventually. Fortunately for Mr Khan, his roots in politics go deeper than one would expect, which explains why he was able to retain his portfolio in the cabinet after the divisive January 5 elections – a feat few of his colleagues from the previous cabinet were able to accomplish.

Mr Khan’s latest action comes in a long line of controversies that he got himself, and his party, embroiled in during his tenure as a minister. Two incidents, in which his failure to talk and behave like someone in his position ought to was more than obvious, remain vivid in our memory.

It was only last year when the minister had made an eyebrow-raising remark in which he defended sexual advances made to female revellers at a Pahela Baishakh celebration. Speaking at a women’s event shortly after the incident, he said such ‘trifles’ may happen in a city of millions. He even dismissed the matter as a non-issue, equating criticism of the incident with that of the government.

It was a moment of revelation when, live in front of millions of viewers, a sitting minister called a former minister beyadober haddi (which roughly translates to ‘imbecile to the bones’) and even vowed to gouge his eyes out!

This, understandably, sparked a firestorm of criticism from different quarters. The ministry of shipping was forced to issue a public apology. But it was more a statement of defence than an admission of guilt – a further blow to the victims of sexual molestation who would have appreciated an honest apology or at least an acknowledgment of the wrong done to them from an authority figure. That Mr Khan chose an event celebrating the International Women’s Day to deliver his bizarre theory was symbolic for more than one reason.

It was not the first time that he had slipped up, and caused a stir with his comments.

On October 22, 2012, Shajahan Khan and BNP leader Rafiqul Islam Miah attended a live talk-show on TV along with several others. At one point in the discussion, things got a little heated up when Mr Khan started gloating over his ministry’s success as opposed to corruption, plunder and extortion during the BNP-led government. Not one to take criticism lightly, Rafiqul Islam responded in kind, and soon their bickering turned into an ugly fight.

It was a moment of revelation when, live in front of millions of viewers, a sitting minister called a former minister beyadober haddi (which roughly translates to ‘imbecile to the bones’) and even vowed to gouge his eyes out! After that, the host channel was forced to take the show off air temporarily.

This may have been a worst-case scenario but it brought out the true character of Shajahan Khan: a deeply insecure, conflicted, ethically problematic leader who prefers force over diplomacy, loyalty over respect, and silence over freedom.

The latest incident, taking place after over four years since that infamous fight, shows things haven’t changed much for him. He remains steadfast in his opposition to decent ways of expressing opinions, and demands, while his conflicts of interest continually accumulate.

And as long as he holds onto his dual jobs, the possibility that outside influences will continue to impact his decision-making as a minister remains very much in play.

This leaves us in a tight spot. While we certainly hope that Shajahan Khan will learn from his past mistakes and talk and behave more responsibly in the coming days, we cannot remain oblivious to the fact that he will still remain ethically compromised unless he distances himself from his job as a representative of the transport workers and the entitlements that he may receive in that capacity.

Given the circumstances, his resignation from that post is the only way he can make a convincing apology to the aggrieved people for their sufferings. Once relieved of the burden of having to represent a particular group of people, he can work with a clearer conscience, live with what little of dignity he still has left and served all sections of the public without bias or prejudice.

Will he listen?