Ageing amid the storm: How coastal Bangladesh’s elderly survive alone
With younger generations moving to cities and formal disaster support limited, coastal Bangladesh’s elderly are left to navigate cyclones on their own, often with devastating consequences
Abdul Hakim, an elderly fisherman living at the confluence of the Baleshwari and Kochar rivers in Pirojpur's Chandipur Union, watched helplessly as the soil beneath his home was washed away during Cyclone Remal.
When the storm struck, he was alone with his wife. They learned about the approaching cyclone only from a neighbour. Navigating muddy, slippery roads littered with fallen trees, the couple struggled to reach the nearest cyclone shelter.
"We barely survived amid the falling trees and rising water until we reached the shelter," Hakim recalled, his eyes revealing exhaustion and fear.
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His ancestral house now stands on the brink of collapse, yet leaving the village is unthinkable. As one Somali poet wrote, "no one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark" – and for Hakim, whose parents' graves have already been swallowed by the river, that home is all he has left. "I cannot leave their house," he said, his gaze heavy with decades of memory.
Across coastal Bangladesh, thousands of elderly people like Hakim face the fury of storms alone.
Research reveals that Bangladesh's ageing coastal population is becoming increasingly vulnerable to cyclones – trapped between failing infrastructure, digital divides, and the exodus of younger generations. With formal support scarce and social capital eroding, the elderly remain on the frontlines of climate change, too often unseen and unheard.
A recent study titled "A neighbour said that the storm was coming": Social capital and older adults' evacuation in the Bangladeshi coast highlights the structural gaps that leave older populations exposed.
"Our elderly population is around five percent, yet they are neglected. They are not included in any universal pension scheme, and we don't have a universal healthcare system," said Masud-All-Kamal, associate professor of Sociology at the University of Chittagong and one of the study's authors.
Our elderly population is around five percent, yet they are neglected. They are not included in any universal pension scheme, and we don't have a universal healthcare system.
The research found that most elderly people live in rural and coastal areas, while younger family members migrate to cities for work, leaving older residents isolated. They rely primarily on family and neighbours for support, as state assistance and formal networks are minimal. Early warning systems, increasingly digital, often bypass them, forcing older adults to depend on neighbours for information during sudden-onset disasters.
Complementing these findings, another study documents the real-world consequences of these gaps. Older residents with limited mobility struggle to reach cyclone shelters through slippery, hazardous roads and floodwaters, often sustaining injuries or experiencing disorientation and delays in accessing aid. Their post-disaster recovery is slow and arduous.
The studies also found that the elderly's social networks – or social capital – play a crucial role in determining their chances of receiving much-needed support.
Kamal, for example, distinguishes three different types of networks on which the survival of older people depends during disasters: close ties with family and neighbours, connections with wider community members and local leaders, and formal relationships with government agencies or NGOs.
"Elderly people receive immediate support from family and neighbours. Some help comes from the community, but state support is almost absent," Kamal said, adding that early warning messages often bypass older residents because they now rely heavily on digital channels or local markets that the elderly rarely access.
As a result, many only learn of impending cyclones through neighbours, as Hakim did, and are often excluded from priority rescue efforts.
Jamina Khatun, another elderly resident of Chandipur Union, experienced these vulnerabilities firsthand. She slipped and lost consciousness while trying to reach a cyclone shelter crowded with riverside families during Cyclone Remal. "I don't know what happened afterwards. When the water receded, I returned, but everything was gone – my house and all my belongings," she recounted, standing among the scattered debris of her home.
More than a month later, her house remained unrepaired. Even when communities provide help, it is often delayed or dependent on the presence of younger, more mobile relatives. Kamal's research shows that elderly people left behind by seasonal migrants are the most vulnerable.
"The community does help, but only after ensuring the safety of their own families," he explained. In such circumstances, older adults feel exposed and helpless. Their inability to evacuate quickly or access formal support increases the risks of injury and death during cyclones.
Government policies like the Parent Care Act of 2013, which legally entrusts children with responsibility for their parents, fall short in addressing these emergency situations. While the Act acknowledges the rights of older adults, the absence of systemic disaster support leaves them exposed along the coast.
"Entrusting responsibilities to children is admirable, but they too have limits. The elderly have contributed to society and the state through taxes and other means. Formal institutions should come to their aid – but we don't see that happening," Kamal said.
