Women bear the hidden costs of Mongla port expansion

On the banks of the Pashur River, sand has become an uninvited guest. It coats cooking pots, clogs ponds, and settles into the cracks of homes in villages surrounding Mongla Port. For the women who live here, the government-backed port expansion has not brought prosperity or resilience. Instead, it has quietly dismantled livelihoods, health, and safety, one household at a time.

Launched in 2021, the Inner Bar Dredging Project was meant to deepen shipping channels, allow larger vessels to dock, and strengthen Bangladesh's trade routes. Officials framed it as a climate-resilient infrastructure investment, essential for economic growth. But along the river's edge, where dredged sand and saline silt have been dumped, the project has triggered a cascading crisis-one borne disproportionately by women and girls.

When land disappears

More than 700 acres of farmland in Mongla's surrounding unions have been buried under layers of sand. Fields that once produced rice, vegetables, and fodder are now barren mounds. Canals that supported fishing and irrigation are blocked. Ponds have turned saline. Livestock have nowhere left to graze.

The loss is not only environmental-it is immediate and deeply personal. Families speak of hunger creeping into daily life, of selling household items to survive. Fishers report dwindling catches as breeding grounds disappear. Farmers say the land may take decades to recover, if it recovers at all.

For women, whose work is tightly bound to homestead agriculture, small-scale fisheries, and livestock care, the collapse has been devastating.

"I used to catch 1,500 fish fry in one tidal cycle," said Rubia, a fisherwoman from North Joymonir Kata Khal. "Now it's barely 100. The water is salty, and the sand has destroyed everything."

Livelihoods lost, dependence grows

Women here once earned modest but vital incomes from crab collection, fish fry harvesting, poultry rearing, and home gardens. That income meant food on the table, school fees paid on time, and a measure of independence within the household.

Now, many have none.

Manju Mondal, 45, supported her family by catching crabs while caring for her chronically ill husband. Today, crab populations have nearly vanished. "We cannot earn. We cannot feed our children," she said quietly.

As women lose economic agency, dependence on male relatives or intermediaries increases. Community organisers and residents say this shift has heightened household tensions and, in some cases, domestic violence. Frustration over lost income spills into verbal abuse, intimidation, and physical harm-violence, and women are often unable to escape due to financial insecurity.

Some men have migrated in search of work, leaving behind women-headed households that are more vulnerable to harassment and exploitation.

Land rights that exist only on paper

Many women in the affected areas legally own land through inheritance or joint family ownership. Yet when land is filled with sand and rendered unusable, compensation and acquisition processes overwhelmingly bypass them.

Negotiations are conducted with male relatives. Women report fraudulent land deals, broken promises, and coercion once their land loses value. What remains is tenure insecurity, masked by paperwork that promises equality but rarely delivers it.

Policy research consistently shows that despite constitutional guarantees, women in Bangladesh face systemic barriers to exercising land rights. Without gender-sensitive enforcement, women are excluded from consultations and denied fair compensation, particularly in large infrastructure projects where speed and scale trump accountability.

Health risks

Local health clinics are witnessing the fallout in another form on women's bodies.

Dr Md Shaheen, the Upazila Health and Family Planning Officer, says cases of skin disease, eye infections, and reproductive health problems have risen sharply since dredging began. Prolonged exposure to saline water and sand contamination has led to uterine infections, abnormal discharge, and persistent gynaecological illness. "There is a long-term risk," he warned, "including complications during pregnancy and increased vulnerability to cervical cancer."

Women now walk longer distances to collect drinking water, often before dawn or after sunset, exposing them to harassment and assault. Girls shoulder the burden too, missing school to fetch water or fodder, their days reshaped by unpaid labour and risk.

Children suffer from digestive illnesses and skin conditions, while mothers struggle to access treatment amid mounting costs and distance.

Development without women

The dredging project sits neatly within Bangladesh's ambitious policy frameworks. Officials cite alignment with the Bangladesh Delta Plan 2100, which envisions long-term water and land management to address climate change. The government has also promoted a Blue Economy agenda, promising sustainable growth through marine and coastal development.

On paper, these strategies promise resilience. On the ground in Mongla, resilience has come to mean displacement, dependency, and exposure to violence.

"The sand is everywhere-in our food, in our eyes, on our bedding," said Gayetri Ray, a fisherwoman from Joymoni. "Our gardens, trees, and livestock are gone. We feel unsafe in our own homes."

Women describe emotional abuse, verbal threats, and physical violence as economic pressure intensifies. Girls face disrupted schooling, increased unpaid care work, and heightened risks of early marriage and child labour.

Climate Justice

Community leaders and activists argue that Mongla reflects a broader climate justice failure: those least responsible for environmental degradation are paying the highest social price.

They are calling for urgent action, gender-responsive planning in infrastructure projects, enforcement of women's land rights, healthcare protections for those exposed to contamination, safe relocation for displaced families, and meaningful participation of women in decision-making.

Without these safeguards, women and girls remain invisible casualties of development.

As the dredging project moves towards its extended completion date in 2026, the question is no longer whether Mongla Port will grow, but who will be left behind in the process.

Bangladesh's development vision speaks of prosperity and resilience. But along the Pashur River, women measure progress differently: by safety, dignity, and the ability to survive without fear.

Until those measures are taken seriously, the sand at Mongla will remain more than a by-product of development. It will stand as evidence of whose lives were considered expendable.

Fariha Jesmin is the Programme Manager of Badabon Sangho. She can be contacted at fariha.badabon@gmail.com.

This story was produced with the support of the Earth Journalism Network.

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.