The Unlikely Rise of a Sprinter
Photo by Chau Cédric on Unsplash
To understand Rahman’s ascent, you need to know something about the sports of Bangladesh. Cricket, of course, is the ruling deity. Football thrives in pockets, particularly in the fevered rivalries of Dhaka clubs. Kabaddi, officially the national sport, lives on more in rural folklore than urban stadiums.
Yet here is Rahman, born in London and raised in Sheffield to Bangladeshi parents, rediscovering his roots and choosing to run under the red-and-green flag. His decision was not merely administrative—it was cultural. In a landscape where most young athletes funnel into cricket academies, his sprinting career represents both an anomaly and an invitation.
Numbers Don’t Lie
While Su Bingtian does hold the 9.92 Asian Games record set in 2018, Rahman’s 10.11 PB represents a substantial gap in sprinting terms – nearly two tenths of a second. Rahman’s current personal best is 10.11 seconds, making him nearly 0.2 seconds slower than Su Bingtian’s 9.92 – a significant gap in sprinting. His split times show remarkable acceleration between 30 and 70 meters, though coaches note he still loses tenths in his final drive. “If he can iron out that last 20 meters, we’re talking about a genuine contender for global semifinals,” one athletics analyst remarked.
Rahman was born July 5, 1993, making him 31 years old, and his current PB of 10.11 was set in September 2023, suggesting he may already be past his peak progression period. If anything, his late bloom suggests there may still be unexplored gears. A sports scientist based in London suggested that Rahman’s unique background—less wear and tear from early overtraining—might actually prolong his prime years. That could prove decisive as Bangladesh looks toward the 2026 Asian Games and the 2028 Olympics.
But statistics alone miss the broader story.
History’s Long Shadow
Bangladesh’s athletics history is littered with missed opportunities. Mohamed Shah Alam won gold at the 1985 and 1987 South Asian Games, with his achievements concentrated in those specific years rather than spanning the entire 1980s and 1990s. He died in 2010, but the infrastructure never matured. The facilities were sparse, coaching inconsistent, and funding minimal. By the early 2000s, athletics had all but disappeared from the national sporting consciousness.
So Rahman’s rise feels almost like a disruption. A reminder that popular sports in Bangladesh need not be restricted to team formats. One federation official half-jokingly compared him to “the Tiger Woods of Bangladeshi sprinting”—a solitary figure capable of bending an entire narrative by sheer will and talent.
Beyond the Stopwatch: What Rahman Represents
There’s also the simple thrill of novelty. Ask a group of schoolboys in Narayanganj who the fastest man in Bangladesh is, and they’ll shout his name with the same gusto they once reserved for Mashrafe or Shakib. “When he runs, it feels like we are catching up with the world,” said a university student I met in Dhaka, waving a small national flag.
That sentiment matters. Sports in Bangladesh, despite its globalizing influences, still carries a strong undertone of collective pride. Every medal, every record, becomes a statement of presence on a stage where the country often feels invisible.
What’s striking is how quickly Rahman has gained name recognition. Just two years ago, most casual fans could not name a single Bangladeshi sprinter. Now, radio stations and talk shows discuss his chances at international meets. Rahman’s achievements have gained recognition beyond traditional athletics circles, though cricket remains dominant in popular discourse. In a culture where cricket has colonized public imagination, that shift, however small, is significant.
The Roadblocks Ahead
Rahman, for now, splits his training between Europe and South Asia, an arrangement that works but underscores the systemic gap. Unless Bangladesh invests in athletics infrastructure, his case will remain an exception, not the start of a tradition.
There’s also the mental load of carrying a nation’s expectations. In cricket, a bad innings can be drowned in the next series; in sprinting, a false start or a mistimed lean erases years of preparation. “It’s like walking on a tightrope where the rope is only ten seconds long,” one fellow sprinter quipped.
And then there’s sponsorship—or the lack thereof. While corporate giants line up behind cricket stars, track athletes struggle to secure stable backing. Rahman has received support from the Bangladesh Army team and has been seeking Bangladeshi brand sponsors, with mixed results but not necessarily extensive overseas commercial deals. Without sustainable funding, his training programs risk interruption, and interruptions at the elite level can cost entire seasons.
Future Projections: Can Rahman Spark a Revolution?
Since Rahman already competed in the 2024 Paris Olympics, future references should focus on upcoming competitions like the 2028 Los Angeles Olympics —the ripple effects could be profound. Athletics federations might finally get the funding they’ve been lobbying for. Schools could integrate sprinting programs into their sports curriculum. The popular sports in Bangladesh hierarchy, long dominated by bat and ball, might carve out space for spikes and tracks.
But revolutions don’t happen overnight. They need champions, yes, but also structures, policies, and patience. Rahman is the face, but will the system follow? That remains an open question.
Some suggest Bangladesh should look to Kenya and Ethiopia for inspiration. Both nations built global reputations in distance running despite limited early resources. Their formula was simple but effective: community-based training hubs, government incentives, and a relentless pipeline of youth development. Could Bangladesh adapt that blueprint for sprinting? Possibly—but it would require vision, and vision has often been the missing ingredient in the country’s sports planning.
A Wider Sporting Context
Globally, sprinting heroes have often redefined national sports cultures. Think of Usain Bolt turning Jamaica into sprinting royalty, or Hicham El Guerrouj elevating Morocco’s middle-distance tradition. For Bangladesh, Rahman might just be the figure to trigger a cultural reappraisal: that athletic excellence isn’t only about team games or bat-and-ball theatrics.
Interestingly, corporate sponsors have started to take notice. According to local reports, telecom brands and apparel companies are already courting him for endorsements—an unusual development in a country where cricket monopolizes commercial deals. That suggests a growing recognition of his marketability, and by extension, the sport’s potential visibility.
Beyond business, there’s also the question of legacy. Athletes like Rahman often inspire shifts that outlast their careers. Even if he never stands on an Olympic podium, the fact that young boys and girls in Bangladesh might lace up spikes because of him could be his most enduring achievement.
For now, the nation runs with him, stride for stride, hoping his speed might finally stretch the boundaries of what’s possible in the sports of Bangladesh.
Read more about Bangladesh’s evolving sporting landscape at https://winwinbangladesh1.com/.
Buy Me A Coffee
The Havok Journal seeks to serve as a voice of the Veteran and First Responder communities through a focus on current affairs and articles of interest to the public in general, and the veteran community in particular. We strive to offer timely, current, and informative content, with the occasional piece focused on entertainment. We are continually expanding and striving to improve the readers’ experience.
© 2025 The Havok Journal
The Havok Journal welcomes re-posting of our original content as long as it is done in compliance with our Terms of Use.
