As Bangladesh fights against encroaching seas and vanishing lands, the uprooted women who arrive in Dhaka bring loss, but also untold stories of survival, insecurity, and hidden violence.
On the outskirts of Dhaka city, where skyscrapers blur into slums, Fatema Khatun (pseudonym), 34, cooks a meal on an open stove outside her makeshift tin home in Korail. She fled from her village in Gabura, Satkhira, after tidal waves washed away her land in 2021. "The river took everything," she whispers. Now, she earns a living as a house cleaner in Banani, making barely enough to survive -- though she has never felt more vulnerable, more invisible.
Bangladesh is a highly climate-vulnerable country. Climate change can internally displace an estimated 13.3 million people by 2050 -- mostly from coastal regions like Bhola, Satkhira, and Khulna (World Bank, 2018). A large number of these migrants are women, who usually arrive in cities without social protection, legal options, or visibility. Their issues are rarely counted, and even more rarely discussed.
While male migrants face general risks, climate-displaced women are at risk of special kinds. In slums like Rayerbazar or Sattola, they always live in fear -- of sexual harassment, police action, or eviction. A 2021 Brac survey determined that over 65% of female climate migrants in Dhaka had experienced some form of gender-based violence after they migrated. The violence is not necessarily physical; it's structural -- denial of water, privacy, and health care.
Displacement not only divides families -- it shatters identity. Women who owned property, presided over village councils, or toiled on farms now are viewed as burdens or beggars in the city. "I was somebody at home," says 45-year-old Hasina (pseudonym) of Shyamnagar. "Here we are 'ghuseti' -- illegal squatters. We are not illegal. The cyclone destroyed our lives." Her eyes brim with anger and sorrow.
Climate migration is not gender-neutral. When saltwater intrusion destroys rice crops, the men move out first, in search of work. Women stay back with children, or migrate later with fewer assets and without decision-making power. In the city, they are confined to domestic work, street vending, or begging -- poorly paid, long-hour jobs with little dignity (IOM, 2020). They keep the city going, yet their presence is criminalized.
The majority of these women migrate with children, an added burden. In urban concentrations, daughters face trafficking and child marriage threats. An RMMRU study in 2022 found that one in every three displaced teenage girls in urban slums was at risk of child marriage as a survival measure. For their mothers, "peace" is all too frequently a bargain of education or security for the illusion of stability.
Dhaka, with its uncontrolled growth and disorganized boom, is no solace. Climate migrants are rarely counted in official statistics, so they are not entitled to ration cards, health care, or state assistance. "I attempted to obtain a birth certificate for my child three times," says Nurjahan (pseudonym), who left Bhola when Cyclone Amphan struck. "They said I need a permanent address. But where do we come from now?" Her voice is an echo of an official erasure.
This stripping of legal personhood is not just an administrative obstacle -- it deprives women of their rights and voice. Without documents, they cannot access health care, vote, or report abuse. Most suffer in silence with domestic abuse or harassment at work. "I don't even know where the police station is," states a young woman from Koyra, now working in a garment factory in Mirpur.
Despite such odds, displaced women are far from passive victims. The majority create support groups in slums -- food-sharing, child-watching, and micro-credit collectives. At the time of the Covid-19 lockdown, when city food shortages hit, it was these illicit networks that kept families alive. "We don't wait for help," says Selina (pseudonym), who fled Patharghata as swelling tides engulfed her dwelling. "We help each other. Otherwise, who will?"
However, this resilience should not be a substitute for rights. The government's National Adaptation Plan (NAP 2023–2050) and National Strategy on the Management of Disaster and Climate-Induced Internal Displacement (2021) mention gender -- but there is poor implementation. Without clear urban integration policy for climate migrants, especially women, cities such as Dhaka will continue to become more unequal, vulnerable, and insecure.
What is needed is a rights-based, gender-sensitive urban response. Authorities in cities must welcome climate-displaced women as legitimate residents, not illegal squatters. Urban planning must include shelter rights, employability skills, health, and access to safe water. Mobile legal assistance, gender desks in police stations, and women's community centers in slum settlements can be worth everything. This is not charity -- it is justice.
The Women, Peace and Security (WPS) agenda must extend beyond conflict zones to include climate displacement. Fatema and Selina are typical frontline peacebuilders -- going beyond the grief of loss, forging new lives, and diffusing community violence. If we ignore them, we risk building cities that are not just unfair but unsafe.
Bangladesh has been at the forefront of climate adaptation worldwide. It can now be at the forefront of gender-climate justice. By including the voices of displaced women in policy, planning, and resilience-building, we maintain their dignity and protect our shared future. Otherwise, their sufferings remain undocumented -- like the floodwater that advances stealthily until it engulfs everything in its path.
In Korail, Fatema (pseudonym), continues to burn her stove each morning. Her feet cracked from walking barefoot; lungs weak from the smoke. Yet she sends her daughter to school and smiles when she returns. "I came here to survive, but I stay for her." Her struggle is the story of so many women displaced by a crisis they didn't make -- but keep facing with strength.
Major Shajeda Akter Moni is Deputy Director, Research Centre, Bangladesh University of Professionals.
