Heat action plans work for cities, why not for women farmers?

Across Bangladesh's rural heartlands, millions of workers rise each day to cultivate the crops that feed the nation. But as temperatures soar to historic highs, heat stress is turning agricultural labor into a crisis of survival — one that hits those least protected the hardest.

Women farmers and laborers are the backbone of the country's food system, yet they are being asked to endure more, risk more, and bear more — all while receiving less recognition and support from both policy and society.

In 2024, Bangladesh endured a record-breaking 30-day heatwave, with temperatures reaching 43.7 °C in some districts. According to the World Bank (2025), that single event cost the country nearly $1.8 billion, erasing 2.5 billion workdays from the national economy.

Agricultural workers are among the most exposed, as fieldwork requires prolonged hours under direct sunlight with minimal rest or hydration. Rising temperatures have already caused crop failures on 21,000 hectares of rice fields in 2021 alone, signaling growing threats to livelihoods.

Behind these numbers are stories of exhaustion and determination — long hours in burning fields and sweltering threshing sheds. Yet too often, the true cost of this crisis, especially for rural women, remains invisible in policy debates.

The gendered face of heat exposure

In Bangladesh, where over 55% of women depend on agriculture, heat is not only a health risk but a structural challenge to food security, labor productivity, and gender equity.

Heat stress is not an equal-opportunity threat. Our research in rural Nilphamari district reveals a stark divide: women routinely bear a disproportionate share of the risks and costs of climate extremes. They dominate the most manual, low-wage, and time-consuming tasks — transplanting, weeding, threshing — often without access to shade, clean water, or even a place to rest.

After hours in the field, many return home only to cook in poorly ventilated homes, clean, and care for children. Their work is never done.

Cultural expectations compound their vulnerability. Women often remain heavily covered even on blistering days, unable to remove layers or rest publicly. "There are men around, so we cover ourselves as much as we can, even when it is burning hot," said one woman worker. This unwritten rule brings real consequences: more dehydration, greater risk of heat illness, and less opportunity to adapt.

To its credit, Bangladesh is beginning to recognise climate risk as a governance priority. Appointing a Chief Heat Officer for Dhaka North was a symbolic step, highlighting the urgency of urban adaptation. But rural women, the ones truly bearing the physical brunt of climate change, have yet to see such focused attention.

The women are also punished in the market. Women are paid as little as Tk250 per day, while men, when present, earn Tk400. When men migrate to cities or cooler districts for better work, women—not only wives and mothers but widows and elderly—are left to bear the full weight of planting and harvesting, sometimes working through sickness, injury, and childbirth.

Then, the sun blazes more harshly on some than others. 

Smallholders cannot afford to hire help, so delay is not an option. "If we wait, the plants dry. If we hire, there's no money," explained one farmer. Landless women, fully dependent on wage labour, cannot skip even the hottest days, for "without work, children go hungry." 

Elderly women, single mothers, widows, those without the cushion of family or land, are forced to work longer and in more perilous conditions, often at the expense of their health and even their children's well-being.

One widow told us, "There is no rest, only work. If I don't work today, we won't eat tomorrow." Another woman worked until the ninth month of pregnancy, then returned to the fields one month after giving birth. These sacrifices aren't signs of resilience; they are symptoms of a broken system that romanticises endurance while ignoring equity.

How heat policy ignores rural women

To its credit, Bangladesh is beginning to recognise climate risk as a governance priority. Appointing a Chief Heat Officer for Dhaka North was a symbolic step, highlighting the urgency of urban adaptation. But rural women, the ones truly bearing the physical brunt of climate change, have yet to see such focused attention. 

Heat safety protocols for indoor and factory workers exist; equivalent protections for outdoor, agricultural laborers are still only on paper, if at all.

Parametric heat insurance in Bangladesh is an emerging financial product designed to provide rapid compensation to farmers and rural stakeholders when extreme temperatures or heat stress reach predetermined thresholds. Promising pilot schemes such as Green Delta Insurance's Dairy Heat Index Insurance for livestock farmers and weather index-based crop insurance aimed at smallholders currently focus on farmers (crop and livestock). Coverage for rural workers (especially landless laborers, female workers, and those not owning or renting land) remains limited. 

Current rural policies rarely account for or even measure the compounding realities faced by women: little access to shaded rest, safe water, protective clothing, or health services; no institutional recognition or bargaining leverage when the sun bakes the fields. Agricultural adaptation strategies too often focus on the crop, not the hands that tend it.

What must change now

We cannot continue building resilience on the backs of women who already carry the heaviest burdens. Bangladesh's future food security and social justice depend on turning evidence into action.

Rural heat action plans must explicitly identify and protect women farm workers. Heat insurance schemes should expand to include informal and rural wage workers, with subsidised premiums and more inclusive targeting.

Investing in local infrastructure is essential. Community-managed, solar-powered shaded areas, water stations, and toilets near fields can make daily work safer and more sustainable.

Timely heat warnings can save lives. Mobile alerts, community radio, and local schools should serve as key channels to reach rural communities.

Heat safety and adaptation must be integrated into extension services and Farmer Field Schools. Gender-sensitive training on hydration, safe work schedules, and heat illness prevention can empower women to protect themselves.

Resources should support not only equipment but also training, agroecological cooling through tree planting and landscape redesign, and low-cost innovations that prioritise women's needs.

Finally, recognition and social support for women's groups should be institutionalised, enabling them to co-design and manage safety infrastructure and adaptation programs.

The stories from Bangladesh's fields should serve as a clarion call: inaction is neither resilience nor neutrality. As policymakers, NGOs, and societies, our task is not to laud women's endurance but to respect and protect it with concrete, gender-responsive policies and budgets keyed to reality on the ground.

To all who make decisions in Dhaka and district HQs, we ask: Will you leave rural women to "bear the sun" alone, or will you finally meet their endurance with the investment and supporting policies it deserves?

Sketch: TBS

Dr Ranjitha Puskur is a global leader in agricultural research for development, with nearly 30 years of experience at CGIAR centers including IRRI, WorldFish, ILRI, and IWMI. She focuses on gender equality and inclusive innovation in food and agriculture. r.puskur@cgiar.org

Dr Mou Rani Sarker is an Assistant Scientist (Gender Research) at IRRI Bangladesh, with a PhD in Agricultural Economics. Her work covers gender, agriculture, labor, climate change, and water governance. mr.sarker@cgiar.org 

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.