Drowning livelihoods: How climate change is threatening life in Tanguar Haor, Bangladesh

Tanguar Haor, a sprawling seasonal wetland in the Sunamganj district of north-eastern Bangladesh, covers 9,727 hectares and supports the livelihoods of more than 70,000 people across 46 villages. Declared a Ramsar site (a wetland of international ecological importance under the 1971 Ramsar Convention) in 2000 for its rich biodiversity, the Haor is both a sanctuary and a sustainer: yielding fish, crops, and water that feed the nation and its people (Rahaman et al., 2016). But this balance is being rapidly upended by the impacts of climate change.

The Surma-Kushiyara river system, encompassing the Haor basin, is increasingly under stress due to changing temperatures and rainfall patterns. This unique area faces profound vulnerabilities arising from climate change, particularly impacting the livelihoods of its communities. Recent scientific data indicates that rainfall in the Tanguar Haor region has significantly decreased over the last few decades. From 1980 to 2008, the total annual rainfall fell by 582 mm, while the average temperature increased by more than 1.4°C (Rahaman et al., 2016). According to Raihan and Hossain (2021), temperature continues to rise in this region at an accelerated rate, with an observable upward trend in maximum and minimum annual temperatures over the past 39 years. These climatic shifts directly affect crop cycles, fish habitats, and the overall hydrology of the Haor.

From the perspective of a local environmental activist, the problem stems from ignoring nature in development plans. This ultimately harms both the environment and local inhabitants. “Development isn’t just about infrastructure,” said Ruhul Amin, chief coordinator of the local organization known Amra Haorbasi (“we the Haor-people”). “It feels like we’re fighting against nature—but that’s not how it should be. We need to live in harmony with it. If we don’t, the consequences will be worse than we can imagine.”

Farmers in Tanguar Haor have long relied on a single annual harvest of Boro rice, planted in the dry season [October – March] and harvested just before the monsoon [which has historically started in June]. But the once-reliable calendar has turned hostile. “We used to rely on a single Boro rice harvest. Now, even that has become uncertain. The floods come too early, and the dry months are harsher than before,” shared a farmer from the upazila (sub-district) of Tahirpur. According to Jakariya and Islam (2017), flash floods now frequently strike in late March or early April—weeks earlier than before—wiping out nearly matured crops and pushing families deeper into poverty.

The changes in climate are compounded by the impact of human behaviour. “I believe one of the main causes of flash floods is overpopulation. People are building houses and expanding farmlands by filling up the canals and ponds that connect to the main rivers, which blocks the natural water flow,” said Md. Noman Ahmed, Headmaster of Satgaon Jibdara High School (Shantiganj upazila, Sunamganj district). “Many unplanned embankments are built. As a result, water overflows during the rainy season, leading to flash floods. The situation is made worse by heavy rainfall and the reduced depth of rivers like the Surma and Kushiara due to siltation,” he added.

The damage extends beyond agriculture. Fishermen are grappling with dwindling catches as once-abundant fish species have either migrated or sharply declined due to disrupted breeding cycles, polluted waters, and shrinking habitats. “We chase the fish deeper into the Haor every season. They’re fewer now, harder to find,” said Md. Eyasin, a veteran fisherman from Tanguar Haor. Recent studies also reveal that erratic rainfall, rising temperatures, sedimentation, overfishing, and the degradation of swamp forests have severely impacted fish diversity in Tanguar Haor, upsetting the ecological balance and local livelihoods (Sultana et al., 2022; The Business Standard, 2022).
 

The ripple effects of climate change are felt deeply in education and health sectors. During peak flood season, schools become inaccessible. Children either drop out or miss classes for weeks or months. “During floods, our school remains closed, and our studies come to a complete halt for three to four months,” said Subarna Akter Jui, a 9th-grade student at Janata High School. “We face serious difficulties before major board exams because of the long gaps in our learning.” Some 77 percent of local inhabitants in the region have no or only basic education, compounding the difficulty in adapting to new climate challenges (Jakariya & Islam, 2017). Nationally, only about 24 percent of individuals aged 7 and above are illiterate (Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics, 2022). 

Women and girls bear the heaviest burden. With water sources contaminated during floods, women struggle most given the burden on them to access fresh, safe water and maintain menstrual hygiene. They often skip meals so their children can eat. According to Raihan and Hossain (2021), lack of access to basic services—especially for women—is a key driver of vulnerability in the Haor region. Their study also highlights that during disasters in general, women are disproportionately affected due to limited mobility, lower income, and fewer alternative livelihood options.

Local leaders echo the frustration. “Every year, the embankments—many of which also serve as roads—collapse as floods and rainfall become more intense,” said Md. Ali Hyder, Union Parishad Chairman of Sreepur North (Tahirpur). “When that happens, our suffering knows no bounds. We urgently need a long-term solution. I urge this to the responsible authority.” Infrastructure such as roads and protective embankments remains fragile. In a region where water is both friend and foe, strong infrastructure can mean the difference between survival and loss.

Boatmen, essential to the region’s transport and trade during monsoon, face their own challenges. “Some years the Haor dries up too fast, and boats are useless. Other times, floods and heavy rainfall are so severe, we risk our lives ferrying people,” said Delwar Hossain, a boatman from Current Bazar (Tahirpur). Fuel prices are up, and fewer passengers can afford to pay for transport—another blow to income stability.

Still, amid the struggle, the people of Tanguar Haor are not passive victims. Adaptation strategies are emerging, some age-old, others new. Crop diversification, homestead gardening, cage aquaculture, and raised seedbeds are now being tried across villages (Raihan & Hossain, 2021). NGOs and local organizations have started training sessions on climate-resilient farming and emergency preparedness. Women are also increasingly involved in alternative livelihoods such as tailoring and poultry farming to supplement household income.

Recommendations from civil society suggest several priorities: First, rivers should be regularly excavated and connecting canals reopened to ensure natural water flow. Second, a seasonal lockdown period should be implemented in the Haor to allow fish and other species to breed and grow properly. Third, infrastructure investment should prioritize embankments, flood-resistant roads, and solar-powered water purification systems. Fourth, education and vocational training tailored to the needs of the Haor communities should be rolled out with urgency. Last but not least, awareness campaigns among both the community and tourists are vital to protect the biodiversity of the Haor.

International frameworks such as the UN Sustainable Development Goal 13, which calls for urgent action to combat climate change and its impacts, should guide Bangladesh’s national and local strategies. Tanguar Haor, as a critical ecological and economic zone, deserves focused attention—not only to save a wetland, but to secure the lives it supports.

As the sun sets over the water, casting golden hues on partially submerged homes, Ruhul Amin reflects: “Save the Tanguar Haor, save Sunamganj.” His words capture both the urgency and the dignity of a people who refuse to give up.

Tanguar Haor is more than a geographic location. It is a living, breathing ecosystem and a lifeline to thousands. Its future depends not only on nature’s mercy but also on human action—coordinated, inclusive, and urgent. In the story of climate change, the people of Tanguar Haor are not just characters; they are the frontline authors, writing a tale of survival, resilience, and hope.