Climate migrants falling prey to modern slavery

Three years ago, Afzal Hossain (40) left his home in Lengura, Gowainghat, Sylhet, to work in a garment factory in Savar, Dhaka. Three other men from his community joined him, and they all stayed in the same rented room. Back home, work was scarce, wages were low, and jobs were sporadic. When Afzal found work in Dhaka, his salary was a meager Tk 7,500. After paying rent, food, and sending money home, he was left with nothing. He had nothing left over after sending money home, buying food, and paying his rent. He relied on loans to get by, a situation that ended lately when he lost his job.

On Monday (17 March), Afzal was searching for work at Savar Bazar Mor. “The back-breaking labour, salary cuts for lateness, constant verbal abuse, and nothing in my pocket at the end of the month—it's meaningless,” he said. “I can’t even afford a Tk 100 treat for myself. And what would I do if I went back home? I have a son, a daughter, a wife, and sick parents to think about. I have no control over my life. I’m a slave to other people’s orders.”

The garment factory where Afzal worked recently closed down. In an unsuccessful attempt to demand their unpaid wages, he and other workers blocked the Dhaka-Aricha highway on 3 March. He has been looking for a job hard since he lost his job two weeks ago.

Afzal’s situation illustrates a disturbing picture of ‘modern slavery’ in Bangladesh. A recent study by the International Institute for Environment and Development (IIED), titled ‘Exposed and Exploited: Climate Change, Migration, and Modern Slavery in Bangladesh,’ reveals that climate migrants are becoming bonded labourers, losing their freedom due to climate-induced displacement.

Following the study’s findings, Prothom Alo interviewed 15 families who migrated due to climate change. Bellal Khondokar (35), a fisherman from the Baleshwar River in Pirojpur, is one of them. A resident of Khejurbari, Boro Machua, Mathbaria, he took an advance loan (Dadon) from fish market lenders and loans from NGOs, totaling around Tk 500,000. Unable to repay the debt, he left his village and now works in a garment factory in Chattogram EPZ.

Bellal’s mother, Renu Begum, told Prothom Alo, “The Baleshwar River doesn’t yield fish like it used to. He (Bellal) only catches 10-15 small hilsa daily. He couldn’t repay his debts, and they kept growing. He had to go to Chattogram.” She added that their livelihoods deteriorated after Cyclone Sidr in 2007. “I worry about him and his children,” she said.

Professor Sharmind Neelormi of Jahangirnagar University's Economics Department, an expert on environment, climate change, women, and development economics, told Prothom Alo that disaster-displaced individuals migrate with limited skills. They frequently lack the courage to seek employment outside of their original line of work, which might result in a downward spiral. This is especially true for women who work in the apparel industry.

She also noted that brick kiln and construction workers face similar challenges, often trapped by advance payments, forcing them to accept meager wages. Migrant construction workers abroad often endure abuse with no recourse.

In Rabindranath Tagore’s short story Haimanti, the word resource (Sompod in Bangla) is imbued with dignity, affection, and a deep sense of human worth. In stark contrast, property (sompotti in Bangla) implies ownership—something to be used, traded, or discarded. When individuals are stripped of their autonomy, denied basic rights, and coerced into labour, they are no longer seen as human but as property. The Australia-based Walk Free Foundation calls this what it truly is modern slavery.

History says that slavery first emerged nearly six thousand years ago, taking root in ancient civilizations and spreading from Egypt to India. Its legacy is etched into the very stones of the Great Pyramids and the Great Wall of China—monuments built on the backs of the enslaved. Though the transatlantic slave trade was formally abolished in the 19th century, a recent study by the International Institute for Environment and Development (IIED) reveals a chilling truth: slavery has not disappeared; it has simply changed its face.

Today, it wears the guise of modern slavery. Bangladeshi workers who laboured to build the dazzling infrastructure for the 2022 FIFA World Cup in Qatar were among its victims. The IIED report paints a grim picture—forced labour, forced marriage, sexual exploitation, squalid living conditions, withheld wages, confiscated passports, restricted movement, abuse, and backbreaking hours with little or no pay.

These injustices are rampant in sectors like brick kilns, construction, domestic work, and garment factories—places where labour is cheap, contracts are rare, and safety is an afterthought. The study found that an estimated 92 per cent of internal climate migrants endure some form of modern slavery, with many overseas migrants facing the same fate.

To uncover these realities, IIED surveyed 648 households across 33 villages in 10 unions of Mathbaria, Pirojpur, and 9 unions of Gowainghat, Sylhet. Migrants were present in over 70 per cent of the households. Sylhet was chosen for its rapidly escalating climate impacts, while Pirojpur stands as a quieter battleground—where change is slower, but the toll is just as heavy.

Modern slavery, it seems, is no relic of the past—it is a present-day epidemic, hidden in plain sight. Ritu Bharadwaj, the lead climate change researcher at IIED, told Prothom Alo that the survey in Sylhet and Pirojpur aimed to understand the link between climate risks, migration, and modern slavery. Both areas exhibit clear signs of climate change. Sylhet experiences frequent flash floods and excessive rainfall, resulting in submerged farmlands, damaged crops, and rapid displacement. In contrast, coastal Pirojpur faces rising sea levels and increased salinity.

Recent on-the-ground observations reveal a barren landscape in Gowainghat Upazila, Sylhet, devoid of crops. There's also a scarcity of men. Locals report that the men are either abroad or working in Sylhet or Dhaka. Additionally, the ladies stay inside their homes if there is no job.

In the quiet village of Lafnaut Bazar, a 23-year-old named Ashraf was found knee-deep in mud, planting rice alongside his young brothers-in-law—Anik, 8, and Ashik, 10. Normally employed at a restaurant in Sylhet city, Ashraf had returned to help his in-laws. “There’s no one to hire anymore,” he said. “We’re doing it ourselves. The fields are lying fallow, so we’re planting rice in the hope it pays off.”

According to Local farmers, labor is scarce, and when hands are available, floods or relentless rain often washes away the harvest. As uncertainty grows, many have shifted from long-term crops to faster-yielding alternatives. Kamal Ahmed, a watermelon vendor in Lafnaut Bazar, said, “Most of the year, I sit with no work. Now, I sell watermelons to survive. Farming doesn’t work anymore. I’m thinking of moving to Sylhet. I can’t do this much longer.”

IIED’s study reveals the extent of the agricultural collapse. More than half of the respondents reported declining crop yields due to increasing soil salinity, erratic rainfall, and floods. Sixty-six per cent of families noted a drop in fish production, citing warmer water temperatures and heightened salinity—jeopardizing both nutrition and livelihoods. Natural disasters routinely destroy crops and kill livestock, turning everyday survival into a gamble.

In Mathbaria, Pirojpur, once fertile lands that supported rice, vegetables, and pulses now lie damaged. The salt-infused waters of cyclones and tidal surges have nearly wiped out crops like betel leaf, jute, sesame, and mustard. Today, most farmers only plant rice during the Aman season—and even that is a risk. For the rest of the year, rising tides waterlog the land, rendering it useless. Even deep tube wells now pump saline water, making irrigation nearly impossible. Since Cyclone Sidr struck in 2007, the situation has only worsened. The most recent blow came in October 2024, when Cyclone Dana’s powerful tides and storm surges devastated crops across the region.

IIED’s analysis of disaster data from 1960 to 2022 paints a grim picture. Natural disasters in Bangladesh have nearly doubled in frequency, and the damages have quadrupled. In Pirojpur, the average annual loss per household stands at $873 (Tk 107,379); in Sylhet, it’s $735 (Tk 90,405).

In Khejuria, part of Mathbaria’s Boro Machua Union, lifelong fisherman Mojibor Rahman shared a lament that echoes across coastal communities. “I’ve swum and fished in the Baleshwar River since I was a boy. But the water’s saltier now. I don’t even know where it’s coming from. Even our deep tube wells give saline water. The land is losing its fertility.”

Researchers, tracking the paths of major cyclones like Sidr and Amphan, warn that natural disasters are growing in both intensity and unpredictability. In Pirojpur, rising temperatures and rampant river erosion are becoming the norm. A staggering 69 per cent of families in both Pirojpur and Sylhet have seen their homes damaged—many have had no choice but to leave, joining the growing wave of climate migrants seeking survival elsewhere.

Recently, a Prothom Alo correspondent spoke with Rakib Uddin, a furniture trader near the Gowainghat Upazila council office. A resident of Hakur Bazar in the upazila’s Doubari Union, Rakib’s home has been flooded for two consecutive years. Rebuilding has left him nearly destitute, and the furniture in his shop intended for sale was also damaged.

“In this situation, I considered leaving the area,” Rakib said, “but I couldn’t leave my sick parents behind.” He added that about 20-25 people from his neighbourhood have already migrated to Dhaka.

Research indicates a significant trend of migration between 2011 and 2024, with many families moving from one part of Bangladesh to another. During the same period, international migration also increased, with the majority heading to Gulf countries. Notably, one-third of these expatriates work as construction laborers, often in hazardous conditions.

In Mathbaria Upazila, visits to the Boro Machua, Tushkhali, and Betmor unions show that residents primarily depend on fishing in the Baleshwar River for their livelihood, while others engage in agriculture. Locals explain that during fishing ban periods, they are often forced to take advance payments (Dadon) from moneylenders (Mohajans) or secure high-interest loans from various organizations to manage their households. However, due to declining fish catches, they frequently struggle to repay these debts.

Mostofa Mridha, a fisherman from Boro Machua, elaborated on the challenges. “Those of us who fish in the Baleshwar River constantly battle cyclones and tidal surges,” he said. “When the catch is good, these disasters don’t seem so daunting. But now, we don’t find fish in the river like we used to.” He added, “My son, Abu Saleh, fell into debt and moved to Chattogram with his wife.”

According to research by the International Institute for Environment and Development (IIED), climate risks have significantly increased migration pressures. The likelihood of families migrating internally to other cities within Bangladesh has risen by 161 per cent, while the probability of migrating internationally has surged by 214 per cent.

Mozammel Mia was once a resident of Hakur Bazar in Gowainghat Upazila. He now lives in Ashulia, near Dhaka, supporting his family by working in a garment factory.

“My house was destroyed by the floods, and I haven't rebuilt it; it’s just lying there,” Mozammel told Prothom Alo. “I haven’t even been back to the area in two years. Many other people from my area came with me. They are all in the same situation as me. Life here is hard for us. Our own land and property lie unused while we wander, working as hired laborer. We have practically no personal freedom.”

Conversations with several migrants originally from Pirojpur revealed a similar pattern. Most have found jobs in garment factories in Dhaka and Chattogram. Some work loading and unloading containers in the Chattogram Export Processing Zone (EPZ). Often, elderly parents remain back home, while in some instances, entire families have migrated, leaving their houses locked up.

Prothom Alo spoke with at least eight such migrants in Dhaka and Chattogram. Fearing repercussions at their workplaces, they requested anonymity. According to their accounts, they leave their home areas out of sheer necessity, often based on a family decision, when local employment opportunities dry up. The majority previously worked in agriculture or fishing and lack experience in industrial settings.

They migrate to the big cities without specific training or relevant experience, relying on help from acquaintances or semi-acquaintances to secure some form of employment.

The migrants explained that it takes fully grasp considerable time to become proficient in these new urban jobs. Since they are learning and don’t the tasks initially, they feel compelled to stay. Employers often exploit this vulnerability by setting wages arbitrarily low.

However, the exploitation extends beyond withheld salaries or meager pay, the migrants reported. Any minor mistake can trigger random verbal abuse from superiors, and instances of physical assault also occur. Even when falling ill during work hours, they often feel they have no option but to continue working. Their survival feels constantly dependent on the mercy of their employers.

Due to the lack of leave, they are often unable to visit relatives even when they are critically ill or have passed away. Working under such conditions, the migrants confessed, makes them feel utterly dehumanized – “no longer like human beings.”

These populations initially migrate primarily due to the impacts of climate change, driven by the basic need for survival, according to research by the International Institute for Environment and Development (IIED). However, the study indicates that once people become migrants, their sense of helplessness and vulnerability tends to increase over time.

The hope for greater prosperity that often motivates people to leave their homes frequently remains unfulfilled. Instead, migrants find themselves pushed towards lives of even greater uncertainty. The research attributes this perilous situation to a lack of essential resources, inadequate social support networks, and insufficient legal protections for migrants.

The vulnerability is even more pronounced for those who migrate internationally. The IIED research highlights that these individuals often finance their journey by taking substantial loans. Repaying this debt becomes a major burden, making it nearly impossible for many to return home until it is cleared. Factors such as the significant distance from Bangladesh, high transportation costs, and the relentless pressure to support their families back home compel international migrants to silently endure difficult and often exploitative conditions.

The study provides specific figures on the costs involved: families migrating abroad spend an average of BDT 461,220 from the Pirojpur district and BDT 413,667 from the Sylhet district. This money is typically raised through selling family land or taking out loans at high interest rates. Furthermore, the research points out that, migrants are often unaware of their legal rights, making them easy targets for deception and fraudulent practices.

Shakirul Islam, Chairman of the Ovibashi Karmi Unnayan Program (OKUP) – Migrant Workers Development Program, who was involved in the research, elaborated on the findings. “When natural disasters destroy alternative employment opportunities in their local areas, families often make a collective decision that someone must migrate for work,” he told Prothom Alo. “Typically, at least one family member leaves in search of employment elsewhere.”

“However,” Shakirul added, “there are currently no adequate protection mechanisms in place for these migrants. As a result, internal migrants, in particular, frequently end up trapped in jobs offering very low wages.”

Not everyone leaves. Abdul Amin runs a small vegetable stall near the Gowainghat Upazila council office. An expression of deep despair is etched on the middle-aged man’s face. His six-year-old son, Sohag, assists him – the father holds open a large sack of potatoes while the young boy takes them out, arranging them for display at the stall.

When approached, Abdul Amin readily shares his story, one he describes as feeling defeated by life’s relentless struggles. He is a father to two sons and two daughters. Repeatedly, year after year, floodwaters damage his modest home, forcing him into debt just to carry out makeshift repairs. The meager income generated from his vegetable stall, he explains, is barely sufficient to feed his family of six.

“You see my son here,” Abdul Amin says, his face pale with worry, “He's already six years old, school-aged. But I haven’t been able to send him to school.”

“Instead, he works here with me. He plays around nearby,” the father continues. “Sometimes he asks me, ‘Father, won’t I ever go to school?’... I have no answer for him.”

As the despairing father spoke, his young son Sohag simply stared blankly at his face, a silent witness to the family’s hardship.

The research study puts forward six key recommendations aimed at freeing climate migrants from conditions that resemble modern slavery. These proposals include: Building climate resilience at the local level, Expanding opportunities for sustainable life and livelihoods, protecting migrants from abuse and exploitation, strengthening social safety net programs, creating safe and legal pathways for migration, Ensuring financial security for migrants and effectively utilizing available climate finance.

Ritu Bharadwaj, the leader of the research team, acknowledged that while some programs touching upon these areas currently exist in Bangladesh, their benefits often fail to effectively reach the most marginalized and vulnerable populations.

Speaking to Prothom Alo, Bharadwaj elaborated that access to support is frequently hampered by discrimination based on factors such as gender, religion, education level, and physical disability. “As a result, fewer people are benefiting from these initiatives than intended,” she stated. Bharadwaj stressed the critical need for better coordination among various programs and ensuring that their benefits are genuinely accessible to people from all socio-economic backgrounds and professions.

Offering concrete suggestions, Bharadwaj advised that the government should establish a dedicated counseling helpline specifically for migrants. Furthermore, she recommended the creation of a separate job registration system tailored for migrants. Such a system, she argued, is necessary “to help prevent them from easily becoming ensnared in exploitative and unsafe working conditions.”

ASM Mahmudur Rahman, from Jhalokathi, contributed to the reporting.