Deer traps in the Sundarbans turn into a shared hazard for tigers
Inside the Sundarbans, deer traps are everywhere. The danger is twofold—they reduce the number of deer available to tigers, and at the same time pose a direct physical threat to the predators
Some fishermen returning through a canal noticed a Royal Bengal Tiger struggling at the edge of a tidal canal in the Bouddhomari area of the Chandpai range in the Sundarbans on 4 January. But damage had already been done. A nylon or wire snare—set for deer —had cut deep into the flesh.
The fishermen captured photographs from a distance and alerted local responders. Members of the Village Tiger Response Team (VTRT) soon reached the spot and guarded the area to keep people away.
News spread quickly along the riverbank. Within hours, Forest Department teams arrived with firearms and prepared a risky rescue.
Keep updated, follow The Business Standard's Google news channel
Forest Department personnel fired blank shots, hoping the sound would scare the tiger into freeing itself and moving away. But the rescue operation failed. A specialised team was then brought in from Khulna.
According to members of the VTRT, the tiger's condition was already severe. "The skin was torn. It wouldn't heal easily," said one witness.
The team from Khulna used a tranquiliser shot to render the tiger unconscious. Once sedated, the animal was quickly secured inside a cage and transported to the Khulna Wildlife Rescue and Rehabilitation Centre.
"The tiger may take up to three weeks before it can be released back into the forest," said Imran Ahmed, Conservator of Forests, Khulna Region, speaking on 17 January.
Ahmed said the Forest Department initially attempted treatment by administering medicine with food, but the approach failed.
"Following the medical board's recommendation, the tiger was given an injection," he said. "It is now in the healing phase."
For many, the rescue was a moment of relief. But for conservationists, it was a warning.
A recovery shadowed by hunger
After decades of decline, the Sundarbans' tiger population is finally showing some signs of recovery. According to the Forest Department's 2024 survey, Bangladesh's portion of the mangrove forest now holds 125 adult tigers—an increase of nearly 10% since 2018 and almost 18% since 2015.
On paper, the recovery looks real. But a sharp and sustained decline in deer—the tiger's primary prey—is a matter of concern.
Experts estimate that around 80% of a tiger's diet comes from spotted deer, with the remainder made up of wild boar, monkeys and smaller animals. A fully grown tiger needs 50–60 kilograms of meat per week to survive. When prey becomes scarce, tigers range farther, cross rivers more often, and stray closer to human settlements. And that is exactly what is happening now.
A forest laced with snares
Inside the Sundarbans, traps are everywhere—and nowhere at once.
According to Forest Department data, poachers are currently using four different types of deer traps—mala phaad, chitka phaad, hanta phaad and gola phaad. Most are made from nylon rope or wire and are almost impossible to detect once concealed under leaves and mud.
The tiger rescued on 4 January had been caught in a chitka phaad—a spring-loaded snare designed to snap tight around a deer's leg. Forest records show that the same type of trap injured a tiger badly enough to cost it a limb in 2012. Another tiger that broke free from a snare in 2014 later died from its injuries.
"These traps are meant for deer," said Professor MA Aziz, a tiger expert at Jahangirnagar University. "But they are becoming a major threat to tigers themselves. A trapped tiger can lose a limb—or its life."
The danger is twofold. Traps reduce the number of deer available to tigers, and at the same time pose a direct physical threat to the predators.
Forest guards describe removing dozens—sometimes hundreds—of wire and spring-loaded snares during winter patrols.
"When we find them, we cut and burn them," said Shah Md Abdullah, a forester stationed in the Gaghramari range. "But catching the people who set them inside the forest is very difficult."
As water levels drop in winter, deer move more freely across dry ground, making it easier to place traps along their trails. "Look outside," Abdullah invited me to the window of his office. "Since it's winter, there is little grass; deer even come here to graze on it."
"For the last seven days, we have been conducting continuous searches for traps," said Mohiuddin, a boatman at the Ghaghramari forest post who often assists patrol teams. "Yesterday (13 January) alone, we recovered 82 chitka phaad."
The dry conditions also allow poachers to move deeper into the forest—on foot, unnoticed. "Two types of traps are most common here—chitka and mala," he said. "During winter, trapping increases as it is easier for poachers to lay traps inside the forest."
"During occasions like Rash Mela, the number of traps increases noticeably," said Abdullah. "A few days ago we found 78 traps, apart from yesterday's 82"
What the traps catch, however, is not limited to deer. "We rescued a monkey from a deer trap a couple of days ago!" Abdullah said. Even sometimes Wild Boars are trapped in such traps.
When a trap meets a tiger
For a deer, a snare usually means death within hours. For a tiger, it often means something slower—and more dangerous.
Tigers are strong enough to break free, but not without injury. The wire tightens as they struggle, slicing muscle, damaging tendons, and leaving wounds prone to infection. An injured tiger may still escape into the forest unseen—only to weaken over days or weeks. This has cascading effects.
"A tiger that cannot hunt properly may move closer to human settlements in search of easier prey, escalating the risk of human–tiger conflict," said Aziz.
In some cases, conservationists fear, snare injuries may contribute to deaths that are never officially recorded as poaching-related.
"These are invisible impacts," said Maruf Hawlader, a VTRT member involved in multiple rescue operations. "You don't always see the trap. You see the consequences."
A bushmeat economy in the shadow
At the heart of the trapping crisis lies an informal but persistent bushmeat trade. Interviews with fishermen and forest-edge residents reveal how deer meat moves quietly out of the Sundarbans.
In villages bordering the Sundarbans, livelihoods are increasingly fragile. Fishing bans, permit costs, unofficial fees, and shrinking access to forest resources have pushed many families into economic desperation. For some, deer hunting has become a secondary source of income—especially during winter, when forest access is easier and demand for venison rises during new moon and full moon nights.
Local fishermen describe a shadow market where venison is sold quietly, often disguised as other red meat. Once the meat leaves the forest, tracking it becomes nearly impossible.
"When children cry for food, people make choices they know are wrong," said a local resident. "But hunger doesn't wait for conservation policies." Forest officials confirm that venison seizures do occur but the demand persists because the economics are brutal.
Policing an unpoliceable forest
From May to December last year, the Sundarbans East Forest Division recovered more than 61,000 feet of traps of various kinds. In the western division, officials seized over 3,000 feet of traps in the past two years. During the same period, authorities recovered 1,148 kilograms of deer meat and filed dozens of cases against suspected poachers.
Acknowledging the threats, Md Rezaul Karim Chowdhury, Divisional Forest Officer of the Eastern Sundarbans, however, noted that the recent rise in trap seizures does not necessarily indicate an increase in poaching.
"The higher number of traps being recovered reflects improvements in our search methods, not an increasing trend in trapping," he said. "Earlier, we mainly searched for traps from canals and rivers. Now we also conduct foot patrols, which are riskier because there is always the possibility of encountering a tiger."
He added that patrol teams are increasingly using a "parallel line searching" technique to locate traps more effectively.
But it is true that enforcement remains limited.
Forest officers say traps are easier to find than the people who set them. Poachers often enter the forest at night, set snares along known deer trails, and return hours later to collect the catch. If nothing is caught, the trap remains—sometimes for days.
"Chitka phaad are much harder to detect than mala phaad," Abdullah said. "They can be scattered across the forest. On average, we walk 15 to 20 kilometres a day searching for them."
"We also don't have enough manpower. We rely on outsourced workers, Community Patrol Groups (CPG), and sometimes volunteers."
Abdullah said some patrols are conducted under the SMART system, which allows access to additional equipment.
"I sometimes join SMART patrol teams," he said. "In those operations, we have speedboats and drones, which help us gather information. But drones are not available at the camps. It would really help us."
"Our biggest concern is safety," Abdullah said. "We sometimes carry Chinese rifles. But if there is an exchange of fire, there is always the risk that suspects may later claim to be fishermen using forged Boat License Certificates. That creates serious complications."
"Sometimes we chase them, but if they retreat deep into their dens, we do not proceed," he said. "They often outnumber us and have more weapons. In those situations, we seek support from the Coast Guard or police. On our own, we do not have enough protection."
