Beyond thirst: The hidden toll of saline water on women and girls in coastal Bangladesh

A few days ago, during a public discussion on women's marginalisation in coastal areas due to the water crisis, an issue came up that has been debated in Bangladesh for the past decade: the rising salinity in coastal regions, which has forced many women to undergo hysterectomies.
This reference is often highlighted by communities, grassroots NGOs, INGOs, and occasionally by academics.
As the discussion progressed, some examples were shared – for instance, in parts of Satkhira like Gabura, if a woman were asked for a glass of drinking water, she might break into tears, as only one glass remained in her household, reserved for her husband.
There are also claims that water scarcity is harming women's reproductive health, with resulting infections in reproductive organs contributing to situations where husbands choose to remarry.
Women in coastal and rural areas are exposed to saline water in two ways. First, rural women rely on forests, the sea, and rivers for their livelihoods.
Wading waist-deep in saline water, they spend at least three to four hours a day collecting shrimp and crab fry. This is their only source of income locally.
Second, they are often (always!) compelled to use saline water for personal hygiene, including during menstruation.
These issues are widely discussed within local communities. Climate change has likely worsened salinity, intensifying these challenges.
People here have lived with rising salinity for generations, but we must ask: what reproductive health issues did women historically face in these areas? Were hysterectomies common in the past, and what solutions are possible today?
For those relying on forests and nature for their livelihoods, alternative income options are rarely acceptable or attractive. Despite efforts to introduce alternatives, success has been limited.
Why does such a serious women's health issue remain largely a topic of discussion? A number of research studies are conducted every year regarding the lives of coastal women.
However, the research carried out so far is neither scientifically rigorous nor anthropologically sound. Often, only certain gender perspectives are highlighted – for example, women facing safety risks while collecting water, or their critical role in water collection, storage, and purification.
These contributions are acknowledged, yet the deeper health implications, particularly on reproductive health, remain largely ignored. It is not that reproductive health issues have never been studied, but, to the best of my knowledge, no work has provided solid scientific evidence on them.
If a thorough study is conducted, a fresh perspective will emerge on the importance of anthropological and medical research in uncovering the root causes of this serious health crisis and in recommending scientific solutions.
Farhana Afroz is a Development Worker
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.