Memories of Sidr still weep in silence

“Mother, cut off my arm and save me! Take me with you!”—the desperate cry of a teenage girl named Rehana, uttered on the night of the catastrophic Cyclone Sidr, did not travel far.

Her mother, Bila Begum—who was only a few meters away—did hear her daughter’s plea, but she was utterly helpless. She was holding another, younger child in her arms. The embankment had collapsed, and floodwaters were surging in with overwhelming force; there was not a single moment to spare if they were to survive.

In the darkness of that calamitous night, Bila Begum was fleeing toward Tafalbari Bazar, seeking shelter with her two children. Rehana was following close behind her mother. Suddenly, two trees fell, trapping one of Rehana’s arms.

Rehana cried out, begging to be saved. Had her mother tried to rescue her in that situation, all three of them would have perished. Ultimately, watching her daughter begin to drown, the mother was forced to move on—choosing to save the child in her arms and her own life.

After the storm’s fury subsided, a local resident named Khokon Howlader discovered Rehana, still trapped by the fallen trees. She was, at that moment, still alive. He managed to free her and brought her to a nearby shop, hoping to save her—but Rehana did not survive.

The following day, her body—along with those of many others—was laid to rest in a mass grave beside the embankment in the village of Chalrayenda. Today, Rehana’s grave is blanketed in thick grass, and her mother’s tears have not dried, even after 19 years.

Even now, 19 years later, the story of that night during Super Cyclone Sidr continues to bring people to tears. Rehana’s family lived in the village of Chalrayenda, near Tafalbari Bazar in the Sharankhola Upazila of Bagerhat. Rehana’s mother lost her daughter in a truly harrowing way during the cyclone.

This was not an isolated tragedy; across the areas devastated by Sidr, many other parents were left with empty arms that night. Countless people lost their children, while others lost their parents, brothers, or sisters. In many families, only one person survived.

On 15 November, 2007, Cyclone Sidr struck the coast of Bangladesh with immense force, packing winds of 240 kilometers per hour. Countless people across the districts of Barguna, Bagerhat, Pirojpur, Jhalokathi, Khulna, Patuakhali, and Satkhira faced devastating losses. Entire villages were razed to the ground.

Although residents in the affected areas had received cyclone warnings, many could not have imagined a catastrophe of such magnitude. Around 10:00 pm—before many had even finished their dinner—the cyclone’s fury descended. In most places, floodwaters surged over the embankments and into the villages; the embankments themselves collapsed as the water began to recede. 

Even 19 years after the catastrophic Cyclone Sidr, many of those affected have yet to recover. Having lost the savings of a lifetime, many continue to live in dire circumstances, exhausted by the heavy burden of debt.

While significant aid poured into the affected regions following the cyclone, most of it consisted of emergency food supplies—doing little to help the victims rebuild their lives. Furthermore, the houses provided as aid proved unsuitable for long-term habitation. Consequently, for those who live a hand-to-mouth existence, the situation remains much as it was before.

Southkhali Union, located in the southernmost part of Sharankhola Upazila in Bagerhat, bore the brunt of the cyclone along the banks of the Baleshwar River.

While the villages that were once leveled to the ground have regained a semblance of activity—with new homes built, vegetation returning, and fishermen heading back to the rivers with their nets and boats—this renewed activity feels hollow, devoid of true vitality. In the villages of Gabtala, North Southkhali, and South Southkhali—areas hit hardest by Sidr—one can still hear the faint, lingering cries of the survivors.

How could the people of this region ever forget the pain of losing their parents, siblings, or children? The disaster fundamentally altered the course of every life it touched. Perhaps her children and grandchildren have all moved away, leaving an elderly woman behind, entirely on her own. She has received little in the way of aid—not even a roof over her head—simply because she owned nothing in her own name. There are many such displaced individuals whose cries for help have gone unheard.

A visit to the villages along the banks of the Baleshwar River and the edge of the Sundarbans reveals that those left destitute by the devastation of Cyclone Sidr are now striving to rebuild their lives. Some have opened small shops; others are repairing their boats to return to fishing, while some have ventured into the trade of fish fry.

Many expressed frustration, noting that the aid intended to help the victims recover never actually reached those who needed it most. Consequently, many have become burdened by heavy debt. In response, various organizations have extended a helping hand, providing support that has proven vital to many of these individuals.

Nineteen years after Cyclone Sidr, a visit to several villages in Southkhali reveals that the struggle for life and livelihood has become even more difficult. Obaidul Haque Mridha runs a shop on the riverbank in Gabtala village. He was a teenager when Sidr struck; his family was considered relatively well-off in the village. Five family members—including children and teenagers—survived by climbing onto the roof of their house, but they could not save their six Australian-breed cattle or other belongings.

Their neighbor, Ruhul Amin, survived by taking shelter with his family in a nearby house. Abdul Latif might not have survived had he not sought refuge in a cyclone shelter. The people of Gabtala still remember those who perished in the cyclone; a memorial plaque was erected in the village to honor the 447 victims, though the names have since faded away, leaving only a black pillar standing.

Obaidul Haque said, “Since Sidr, we have been surviving by navigating various crises. For a few years after the cyclone, this area received a lot of attention, but eventually, everyone forgot about this vulnerable region. Despite our own hardships, we continue to commemorate those who lost their lives through special observances—and we have organized a prayer session this year as well.”

Not far from the Southkhali Union Parishad complex lies the old launch ghat (boat landing). It was once a bustling hub where vessels arrived from various places. Although the landing itself was long ago swept away by the currents of the Baleshwar River, the area is still known as the ‘Launch Ghat.’

During Sidr, the homes in this area were washed away by the surging waters. The next morning, those who had been swept away returned to find they could no longer recognize their own homes. Yet, these same people still live there today—clinging to their old occupations and continuing to struggle just as they did before.

Abdul Malek Mridha’s small house sits right beside the new embankment along the riverbank. He received the house as relief aid following Sidr, but it was so tiny that he had to expand it by adding verandas on all sides. It would have been impossible to live in the original two-room structure.

Malek has returned to his former trade, focusing once again on building fishing boats. Although he owned a large trawler before Cyclone Sidr, he has now built a smaller one. He received 10 kilograms of fishing nets as relief aid, but he had to purchase additional gear. In the process, he has incurred a debt of nearly 100,000 taka to three different NGOs.

Then there is Abdul Kader. He lives in a small house by the roadside, not far from a new embankment near the old launch ghat in Tafalbari. He, too, received a relief-provided house, but he faced a similar predicament: the structure was so small that he had to expand it by adding a veranda. He is also in debt by approximately 100,000 taka.

Abdul Kader said, “For about three months after Sidr, we received food without having to work. But eventually, we had to return to our livelihoods. The support we received was hardly enough to help us get back on our feet.”

Gabtala village, located in the Southkhali Union of Sharankhola Upazila, was among the areas devastated by Cyclone Sidr. From the village’s launch ghat, both the sea and the Sundarbans are about an hour and a half away. The Baleshwar River flows right alongside Southkhali. The sea, the river, and the Sundarbans serve as the primary lifelines for the people of this region. Following Sidr, large-scale embankment construction projects were initiated in areas including Sharankhola and Morrelganj. However, in Southkhali, the embankment is now at risk due to erosion caused by the Baleshwar River.

In Gabtala village, I met Kanchan Hawladar. Pointing toward a distant a char known as ‘Majher Char,’ he said, “The boundary of Southkhali used to be near that sandbar. Several embankments have collapsed. We once owned a significant amount of land, but it has all been lost to the Baleshwar River. Sidr compounded our hardships immensely. We did receive some aid after the cyclone, but it wasn't enough to help us recover.”

Montu Jomaddar, another resident of Gabtala, remarked, “My four brothers and I once owned four acres of land. Before Cyclone Sidr, there was some land beyond the new embankment, which we used to cultivate for our livelihood. But after Sidr, nothing remains. We are now living through a time of great hardship.”

Lutfor Rahman Sikdar, a resident of Rayenda village, says, “Before Sidr, I owned a fishing trawler. It was lost when the cyclone struck, and I haven't been able to build a new one. Now, I earn my living by working on someone else's trawler.”

A visit to the villages of Chalrayenda, Tafalbari, Rayenda, Gabtala, and Bogi reveals that although an embankment was constructed after Sidr, it has become fragile due to erosion caused by the Baleshwar River. There is no land left along the riverbank beyond the embankment; yet, following the cyclone, there used to be agricultural land and, in some places, forests there.

Many homes also stood beyond the embankment. Now, however, the erosion has put both the embankment and human lives at risk. Field observations indicate that many families from Southkhali have been displaced since Sidr. Some have left the area for cities, while others have migrated abroad. But what is the reason for this displacement?

Residents explain that there are no longer enough livelihood opportunities to sustain life in the area. Fish are no longer as abundant in the sea and rivers as they once were, leaving many fishermen burdened with debt. Furthermore, there are numerous obstacles to working in the Sundarbans, with recent criminal activity by bandits posing an additional challenge.

The residents of Southkhali are deeply concerned about the fragility of their embankments. They recall how, during Cyclone Sidr in 2007, water surged over the embankments, and they have long been calling for the construction of higher, more robust structures. Although an embankment was built after Sidr, it is already at risk once again.

At Nasir Uddin Kazi’s shop near the Tafalbari embankment, several locals gathered to demand that the river be managed and a strong, elevated embankment be constructed. Obaidul Haque, Ruhul Amin, Lutfor Rahman, and Khokon Howlader—all emphasized the critical importance of disaster preparedness.

Local residents stress that advance preparation for disasters is now of utmost importance. They believe that with proper preparedness, the loss of life and damage to property during Cyclone Sidr could have been significantly reduced. The lives of teenage girls like Rehana could have been saved. Many others, like Alamgir Hossain, would not have had to travel to cities or abroad in search of work.