How superstition and stigma punish the tiger widows of the Sundarbans

Communities often view tiger attacks as divine punishment for past sins. Photo: Reuters

Abandoned by her sons, shunned by her neighbours, and branded a witch — Mosammat Sofia's crime? Her husband was killed by a Bengal tiger. "My sons have told me that I am an unlucky witch," she whispered from her fragile plank home in Gabura, a honey-hunters' village at the edge of the Sundarbans.

Sofia's story reflects a widespread social tragedy. The Sundarbans, the largest mangrove forest in the world, are home to nearly four million people who rely on its resources. Fisherfolk, woodcutters (bawali), and honey collectors (mawali) venture deep into the forest each day, balancing survival with life-threatening risks. While the forest sustains life, it also claims lives — leaving behind widows ostracised by society rather than aided by it. 

Between 2000 and 2015, at least 519 men from 50 villages in the Satkhira district — a region home to around half a million people — died as a result of tiger attacks. According to LEDARS Bangladesh, a charity that supports widows in reintegrating into their communities, these attacks have left countless women vulnerable and socially marginalised. 

Across Khulna, Shyamnagar, Mongla, and Bagerhat, the number of women living under this social curse is significant, though largely undocumented. The majority of those killed were men engaged in dangerous forest labour to support their families. Tragically, the widows left behind endure punishment not from nature but from humans.

One of our recent studies, titled "Exploring socio-cultural stigmas and resilience among tiger widows in coastal Sundarbans communities of Bangladesh: A qualitative study," published in Humanities and Social Sciences Communications (Nature), explores the multifaceted livelihood struggles of tiger widows in the Burigoalini and Gabura regions near the Sundarbans, with a particular focus on how socio-cultural stigmas shape their daily experiences.

Cultural stigma and social exclusion

In local communities, superstition and cultural beliefs shape the tragic fate of tiger widows. Widows are often labelled swami kheko ("husband eaters") and blamed for their husbands' deaths. Sofia recalled, "If I walked down the street well-dressed, they would stalk me and hurl slanders, as if I had no right to wear decent clothes. I couldn't even comb my hair or oil my head."

Tiger widows are excluded from social events, festivals, and religious rituals. Many are forced into specific hamlets known as Bidhoba Palli (widow villages), reinforcing their isolation. Their children, too, are stigmatised and bullied, compounding trauma across generations.

Tiger widows are excluded from social events, festivals, and religious rituals. Many are forced into specific hamlets known as Bidhoba Palli (widow villages), reinforcing their isolation. Their children, too, are stigmatised and bullied, compounding trauma across generations. One widow in Burigoalini shared, "People cursed me, calling me 'bhatar khekho nar' (husband eating women). They warned others, 'Don't accompany her; your husband might be in danger if you befriend this ominous woman."

This marginalisation reflects deeply ingrained cultural norms. Widows are viewed as bearers of bad luck; their misfortune is interpreted as punishment for sins or for failing to appease forest deities. Religious and mythological beliefs surrounding Bonbibi, the forest goddess, and Dakkhin Ray, the tiger god, further reinforce their exclusion.

Economic hardship and denial of rights

Tiger widows are frequently denied basic rights and opportunities. After losing her husband, one widow in Gabura said, "After my husband's death, I lost my only source of income. No one is willing to hire a widow; they believe I bring bad luck."

These women face systemic economic deprivation. Denied access to jobs, education, and healthcare, their ability to regain independence is severely curtailed. Social ostracisation compounds their loss of livelihood, leaving widows dependent on minimal charity or the secret support of family members willing to defy social norms.

Honey hunting, historically a key livelihood in these villages, has declined due to the fear of tiger attacks. Men now choose alternative trades to protect themselves and their families, leaving women like Sofia with fewer options for survival. A young man in Gabura said, "My mother doesn't want me to end up like my father. I want to stay alive and take care of her because she has endured enough abuse after my father's death."

Psychological and emotional toll

Stigmatisation extends beyond social isolation — it exacts a deep psychological toll. Studies, including our own, show that tiger widows frequently exhibit trauma-related symptoms such as major depressive disorder (MDD) and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). One widow recalled, "Whenever I wore a new saree, they would stigmatise me, claiming that I wore it to attract young men. I couldn't live with dignity."

Many widows report feelings of hopelessness and helplessness. The combined impact of grief, social ostracisation, and economic vulnerability creates a cycle of psychological suffering — often unnoticed by broader society.

Religious beliefs and superstitions

Local belief systems intensify widow stigmatisation. Communities often view tiger attacks as divine punishment for past sins. Widows are accused of failing to appease the forest goddess or of bringing misfortune upon themselves and their families. One widow in Gabura recounted, "Every year, we offered live chickens to the Sundarbans to ensure our husbands' safety. After my husband's death, they blamed me, saying I failed to appease the forest, which caused his death."

Belief in Bonbibi, the forest guardian, remains central to these communities. Widows rely on their faith as a coping mechanism amidst ostracisation. Another shared, "If Bonbibi saves me, I will survive; otherwise, there is no way. Everything depends on Bonbibi."

Religious and superstitious practices thus serve both as a source of resilience and as a mechanism through which societal stigma is enforced.

Social support and resilience

Despite profound adversity, tiger widows exhibit remarkable resilience. Some receive discreet support from relatives, neighbours, or NGOs such as LEDARS Bangladesh, which works to restore dignity and provide alternative livelihoods. Rijia Khatun, a widow for 15 years, shared, "My sons were young. Nobody helped me initially, and they blamed me for my husband's death. But now I've learned to live with this adversity."

Resilience manifests through daily survival strategies, emotional coping, and subtle acts of resistance against social norms. Education, vocational training, and community empowerment programmes offer hope, but progress remains slow.

Breaking the cycle of stigma

Addressing the marginalisation of tiger widows requires systemic intervention. Social awareness campaigns, inclusion initiatives, and livelihood programmes can help reintegrate widows into their communities. Changing cultural perceptions is essential, particularly in villages steeped in centuries-old beliefs.

Our research underscores the need to recognise tiger widows not as symbols of misfortune but as survivors navigating extraordinary hardship. Providing psychosocial support, legal rights, and economic opportunities can mitigate stigma and empower these women.

Tiger widows are deprived of dignity, discriminated against by their families and communities, and forced to endure extreme poverty. They struggle to survive while bearing deep post-traumatic scars, deprivations, and multiple forms of abuse and exploitation. It remains uncertain whether the cries of the tiger widows of the Sundarbans will ever reach the ears of policymakers. Their numbers continue to grow silently in the villages bordering the forest.

Yet, in their resilience, they offer lessons for broader society — lessons of compassion, dignity, and the pursuit of social justice. Recognising and supporting these women is not merely an act of charity; it is a step towards building a more equitable society where superstition no longer dictates the fate of the most vulnerable.    

Md Al-Mamun is a Research Associate at the BRAC Institute of Governance and Development (BIGD), BRAC University.

Marufa Alam is a Lecturer in the Department of Public and Community Health at Frontier University Garowe, Puntland, Somalia. 

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.