Play and Play Therapy in Bangladesh: An Interview with Mostak Imran

Childhood Play in 1990s Bangladesh

For Mostak, growing up in the 1990s meant afternoons filled with cricket, football, and rooftop adventures with cousins. There were no mobile phones to distract—just outdoor freedom, the invention of new games, and moments of delight when power cuts (“load shedding”) turned into unexpected opportunities for play by candlelight.

“I feel lucky,” he reflected, “that I was born before mobile phones. We created our own games. Even with Monopoly, we didn’t know the rules—we made them up.”

Parents were nearby, watching, but not interfering: containment without intrusion. As he grew into adolescence, play shifted toward more structured sports like cricket and football, with peers resolving their own conflicts.

The Changing Face of Play Today

In contrast, children in Bangladesh today often see mobile devices as their main form of play. Parents may celebrate a toddler’s ability to use a smartphone as a sign of intelligence. For many children, “play” means digital games rather than free play with friends outdoors.

This shift is coupled with the pressure of education. In South Asian culture, children are often expected to become doctors or engineers, with long hours of study and tuition replacing afternoons of free play.

Becoming Bangladesh’s First Play Therapist

Mostak studied psychology at Dhaka University, followed by postgraduate studies in educational psychology. Later, he travelled to the UK to complete his master’s in play therapy at Roehampton University—training in the very same classrooms, with the very same toys, where Julie now teaches.

Returning to Bangladesh, he found himself unique: the only BAPT-registered play therapist in the country. At first, friends and family didn’t understand:

“When I told people I was studying psychology, they said it was a ‘lipstick subject’—a subject for girls. When I said play therapy, they laughed. ‘So you’ll just play? How is that a course?’”

But perceptions are shifting. The pandemic, the Rohingya crisis, and increasing awareness of mental health needs have opened space for psychological support in Bangladesh. Parents who once dismissed play now arrive at his clinic saying: “My child only plays”—without realising that play is the child’s language, their natural way of communicating and healing.

Working Week: Balancing Teaching and Therapy

Mostak divides his time between lecturing at a university and working with children and families. Fridays and Saturdays—Bangladesh’s weekend—are reserved for clients. He also runs Kite Wellness Hub, an initiative bringing together volunteers and offering workshops on positive parenting, play, and wellbeing.

Yet challenges remain. Therapy is not covered by insurance, so parents pay directly. Many want fast results, and sometimes end sessions after only two or three visits—long before therapeutic rapport can develop. “It can take six sessions just to build trust,” Mostak explained. To manage expectations, he now asks for a commitment of at least six sessions before beginning play therapy.

The Playroom in Bangladesh

Do children in Bangladesh play differently in therapy than children in the UK? For younger children, Mostak believes the answer is no:

“Children everywhere like to role play, build, create, and project their inner world through toys.”

But with older children—10, 11, 12 years old—technology casts a shadow. Some ask for computers or mobile games in the therapy room, dismissing traditional toys as “too babyish.” To bridge the gap, Mostak introduces familiar board games like UNO or Snakes and Ladders. While not traditionally part of a nondirective playroom, these tools help build rapport and lead children into more creative, expressive play.

Hopes for the Future

Looking ahead, Mostak dreams of reducing his university hours to focus more on therapy and training. He wants to expand Kite Wellness Hub into a centre where play therapy, parent education, and community awareness can grow side by side.

“I believe in Gary Landreth’s words: trust the process. Things may get worse before they get better. But if we trust the process, positive change will come—for children, for families, and for Bangladesh.”

A Global Conversation

Mostak’s journey is a powerful reminder that play therapy is both universal and deeply cultural. The same toys, the same models, the same theories can connect practitioners across continents. Yet the contexts—family structures, education pressures, cultural values—shape how therapy is received and practised.

At Pondering Play and Therapy, we are grateful to connect with colleagues like Mostak who are pioneering play therapy in new regions. His passion, resilience, and vision highlight the importance of play in every child’s life—whether in South London, Stoke, or Dhaka.

👉 You can listen to the full episode on the Pondering Play and Therapy podcast and learn more about Mostak’s work through Kite Wellness Hub.