After a long dry season, April is traditionally seen as a time of renewal of nature. It is a new beginning that brings joy and hope to people. But for the coastal people of southern Chittagong, April is not only a month of hope and celebration but of fear -- fear of devastating cyclones, violent storm surges, and flooding.
The famous English poet T S Eliot called April “the cruelest month” in his landmark poem The Wasteland. This description deeply resonates with people who survived the 1991 cyclone and broadly those living along Bangladesh’s fragile coastlines.
This year, April 29 marks the 35th anniversary of the super cyclone of 1991 that struck the southeastern coastal belt of Bangladesh. It is one of the most powerful cyclones ever recorded in history that killed over 140,000 people including more than 40,000 from Banshkhali alone.
Though all the coastal areas were affected, the majority of the fatalities occurred in the southeastern coastal belt such as Banshkhali, Anowara, Chakaria, Pekua, Kutubdia, and Moheskhali. In addition to the immense human toll, the cyclone left over 10 million people homeless. Overall property and infrastructure damage was in the billions of dollars.
People living along the coast are often considered to be naturally brave and resilient. For them, cyclones and flooding are not rare incidents.
Yet for those who endured the 1991 cyclone, resilience does not mean fearlessness. The trauma of that night is still alive, and many who survived say they would not wish to confront such a calamity again. Decades later, the disaster remains a powerful collective memory for the people of the entire coastal belt.
I was born in a coastal village in Banshkhali, Chittagong. We suffered the loss of many family members, and all our properties were lost during the cyclone.
My father often shares the memories of that powerful cyclone. Storm surges as tall as a two-storey building that flooded the entire coastal villages within seconds. The whole night was horrific with salty rain and violent wind.
There were no cyclone shelters at that time and also no effective early warning system. Like many others, he survived holding the floating roof of our thatched house.
He often says the aftermath was even more catastrophic. Much of the water had receded by the morning. Everything was swept away; the entire coastline became unfamiliar.
Those who survived started looking for the missing family members. Searching was difficult as there was no visible road. On top of that, people were hungry and had nothing to eat.
There were dead bodies floating everywhere. After a few days, army personnel arrived and started burying dead bodies and people got some dry food being dropped from helicopters.
My parents live in the village. They still get terrified when a cyclone alert is issued in April and May. My mother repeatedly calls me to ask how far my home is from the sea and urges me to seek shelter on high ground.
Her concern may sound excessive or even awkward to me, but she speaks from lived experience -- and she means it with absolute seriousness.
Building resilience
Due to various geographical factors, the Bay of Bengal is often called a hotbed for powerful tropical cyclones. The majority of the deadliest tropical cyclones in world history occurred here. According to a report by Weather Underground, 26 of the 35 deadliest tropical cyclones in recorded history have occurred here.
Because of global warming and sea level rise, scientists say the intensity of cyclones is increasing. Every year there is a lot of research, reports, and newspaper articles consistently being published that highlight the diverse climate related challenges being faced by the coastal people and calling for urgent action.
Sea level in the Bay of Bengal is rising faster than the global average. And on top of that, recent reports reveal that sea level in the eastern coast is rising faster than the western coast. So coastal lowlands in Chittagong and Cox’s Bazar are at greater risk of flooding and erosion.
Our coastlines are highly populated -- home to over 43 million people. In this age of escalating climate effects, our coastal communities and ecosystems are under increasing threats from erosion and sea level rise.
Growing up in a coastal village, I have seen massive and unbelievable erosion in our shoreline in the last decade and thousands of people have lost their homes and farmland.
We are often cited globally as a leader in climate adaptation. However, this national success narrative hides the growing vulnerabilities along the country’s eastern coastline.
Rapid, unplanned human activities are intensifying coastal risks. Each year, mangrove forests and other coastal vegetation are being cleared to make space for salt fields and fish projects.
It strips the shoreline of its natural buffers against cyclones and storm surges. Natural buffers and defenses against cyclones and storm surges are becoming almost non-existent in many areas.
The situation is especially alarming along the roughly 40-kilometre Banshkhali coastline, where long stretches of embankments are broken and eroded.
We have to remember that our coastlines are inherently very dynamic and diverse. One can visit Banshkhali shoreline to observe that clearly. Because of this variability, coastal interventions must be grounded in location-specific research. Blanket policies have already proven ineffective.
Traditional hard solutions such as concrete seawalls, embankments reinforced with concrete blocks, or geo-bags, on their own, are insufficient to provide long-term protection. These measures need to be complemented by nature-based measures, including the restoration of mangroves, saltmarshes, and other coastal ecosystems that work as buffer zones.
In some parts of Banshkhali shoreline, mangroves and saltmarshes are making significant changes in restoring coastal ecosystems which can be studied and applied in other places.
As a country, there is no way we can prevent natural hazards like cyclones, flooding, and sea level rise. We can however reduce disaster risks and build our own resilience through adaptation, nature-based solutions, community engagement, awareness, early warning systems, and necessary infrastructural development.
Parvez Uddin Chowdhury is a development worker and climate enthusiast.
