The last weavers of Bahaldanga

Ahmed Sheikh once earned his living by weaving lungis and gamchhas (traditional lower garments for men and thin cotton towels) on three handlooms at his home in Pangsha upazila of Rajbari. He had inherited the art from his late father, Sifatullah Sheikh, and had been learning the craft since childhood. He mastered it. But in 2021, at the age of 61, he gave it up to sell tea, which brought in more income - enough to support his family.

"There is no profit in this work anymore. I had to leave it. Both of my sons have moved on to other jobs too," said Ahmed, now 65, as he minded the kettles over a clay stove in a makeshift tea stall made of polythene and dried jute sticks in his yard at Bahaldanga Karigar Para village of Sarisha union.

The story is more or less the same for at least 200 families in the village. Over the past decade, they have been forced to adapt to new ways of life, abandoning traditional weaving, a skill passed down through generations that gave Karigar Para its name.

'It ends with us'

Some in the village still carry on the work. Along the roadside, strands of yarn can be seen drying on bamboo racks, with handlooms installed inside tin-and-bamboo sheds in courtyards.

On one of them, 70-year-old Jalal Uddin Sheikh was weaving gamchhas, while his daughter-in-law, Juthi Khatun, 21, sat on the veranda spinning yarn on a charkha.

"Every home here used to weave lungis and *gamchhas," Jalal Uddin recalled. "Now there are fewer than 100 electric looms, and only 8–10 handlooms in the village. I've stuck with it because I don't know any other work. After a whole day of labour, I barely earn Tk 200 after expenses. It's not enough to run a household."

Some artisans are trying to adapt to modernisation to speed up production. But with dwindling profits and a lack of government support, it is only leaving them with more debts.

"It costs around Tk 5 lakh to install and go into production with an electric loom. Most of the money was borrowed from an NGO. Now it has become difficult to pay the instalments and run the family," explained Najma Khatun, 42, Juthi's neighbour who runs an electric loom.

As the profession fails to support them, parents now want to educate their children, hoping it will help them get better-earning jobs.

"I have three children. My eldest daughter has been admitted to Pangsha Government College for honours. My second daughter has passed her SSC. And my son is in the fourth grade. My wife and I work together from 7 am to 9 pm. After all expenses, we earn Tk 500 a day," said Yunus Sheikh, 45.

"I don't want my children to enter this profession. So, no matter how difficult it is, I am continuing their education. The way people are leaving this profession, the number of weavers here will be halved in the next 10 years. It will end with us," he added.

No government support

Artisans say government support for the weaving industry in Bahaldanga is practically nonexistent.

"We don't get any help from the government. About 35 years ago, my father once got a Tk 13,000 loan from them, that's it," said Shukur Ali, 59, a weaver in the village.

When contacted, Md Azmal Al Bahar, chairman of Sarisha Union Parishad, said, "The handloom industry in Bahaldanga is over 200 years old. At one time, the sound of looms came from every home. Now, many have left the trade, and there is no government support. I've raised the issue in upazila development meetings, but no action has been taken. If we don't support them now, we risk losing this cultural heritage forever."

Ratan Chandra Saha, deputy general manager (SCR and marketing) at the Bangladesh Handloom Board and director of a project on working capital supply and loom modernisation to improve the socio-economic condition of weavers, said, "We provide loans on easy terms to improve the socio-economic condition of handloom weavers. However, I don't have any clear information about the weavers of Bahaldanga. I'll look into it and take measures if needed."

Md Manzurul Haque, liaison officer at the Board's Basic Centre in Kushtia, echoed the sentiment. "We're trying to reach out to weavers in Bahaldanga to offer them loans and other facilities."

'Men now wear pants, not lungis'

The situation in Bahaldanga mirrors a national trend. According to the Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics (BBS), the number of handloom units in the country fell from 212,421 in 1990 to 116,006 in 2018, a 45 percent drop over 28 years.

Experts say traditional weavers cannot compete with mechanised textile mills. Rising raw material prices, labour shortages, and shrinking markets have all contributed to the decline.

Md Mamunur Rashid, liaison officer at the Handloom Board's Basic Centre in Bhanga, Faridpur, noted that the number of weavers is falling across the southern districts oFaridpur, Gopalganj, Madaripur, and Shariatpur. "Rising yarn prices and a shortage of skilled artisans are forcing people to abandon weaving," he said.

Artisans agree.

Mofizul Islam, 52, a weaver in Kanaipur, Faridpur Sadar, said, "My father used to run three handlooms. Now I barely run one. Yarn prices have doubled, and it's hard to find labourers willing to do this work."

Rashida Begum, 48, from Kalkini upazila, said, "I used to weave gamchhas full-time after marriage. Now I do it part-time—there are barely any orders. Buyers prefer cheaper, machine-made products. We can't compete. Even power looms are shutting down because of electricity costs and low profits."

"There was a time when women in our village would gather to spin yarn together," she added. "Now that scene is gone."

Back in Bahaldanga, 45-year-old Mannan Sheikh feels the same way.

"When we were kids, everyone wore lungis. Now young men wear pants. The market for handmade lungis and gamchhas has collapsed. This profession no longer has a future."