Coastal areas in Khulna: Where drinking water becomes a luxury
As Bangladesh confronts an escalating water crisis, the struggle for safe drinking water is becoming increasingly dire—both in urban centres and remote villages. In Chattogram, rising salinity has rendered water sources undrinkable, leaving residents scrambling for alternatives. Meanwhile, in the hills of Bandarban, villagers endure perilous climbs and hours-long waits for a single jar of water. In Khulna, families from coastal areas have to buy drinking water. These challenges are not isolated incidents but warning signs of a broader crisis that could threaten millions in the years ahead. On this World Water Day, we spotlight harsh realities faced by communities across the country and the urgent need for sustainable solutions.
When Razia Begum, now 56, got married at just 16, water was not a concern. Like most women in her village of Banisanta in Khulna's Dacope upazila, she collected freshwater from nearby ponds. Life was simple, and water was abundant.
For all latest news, follow The Daily Star's Google News channel. But everything changed with the spread of shrimp farming. Once brimming with freshwater, the ponds gradually turned saline. By the early 2000s, Razia and her neighbours were caught in a mounting crisis. By 2002-03, access to drinkable water became a daily battle that stretched on for years.
To cope, the community restored a pond near Amtala Banisanta Government Primary School, three kilometres from Razia's home. For years, she walked the distance to fetch water. But declining health -- kidney disease and bone ailments -- have now made that impossible.
"My family needs at least three pitchers of water a day. Each 15-litre pitcher costs 30 taka, and delivery adds another 10 taka. We spend 2,500–2,700 taka a month just for drinking water," Razia said.
For a household of 10, surviving on a modest monthly income of 9,000 taka, this is a crushing burden.
Her father-in-law is immobile, and her husband too ill to work. The family depends on her son, an easy bike driver, and her son-in-law, a security guard, for survival.
"Nearly 15–20 percent of our income goes into buying water. If we add in medical costs for waterborne diseases, the expenses are even higher," Razia added.
Ten years ago, they bought a 1,000-litre tank on instalments for 8,000 taka. It barely lasts a few days. Despite multiple requests to local officials and NGOs for another tank, help has not come. "If a large reservoir or pipeline could be built, it would ease our suffering," she said.
Her daughter, Asma Khatun, fears for her children's health. "Even the water we buy sometimes makes them sick. I spend 300-400 taka a month on medicine for stomach issues and diarrhoea," she said.
Just half a kilometre away, Taslima Begum faces similar hardship. Her family of four survives on one 20-litre water jar daily. "The only usable pond is three kilometres away. I'm sick and can't carry water. Buying water every month costs me at least 1,000 taka," she said.
"During the rainy season, we rely on rainwater, but for half the year, we have no choice but to buy water. My son, a seasonal farmer, spends up to 25 percent of his income on water," she added.
This is not an isolated crisis. In Polder 33, covering five unions of Dacope upazila, the situation is dire.
Out of 1,813 tubewells, only 247 are operational, and most provide saline water. Of 532 pond sand filters, only 56 work. All 153 VSSTs and 890 SSTs -- types of tubewells -- are out of order, according to the Dacope Public Health Engineering Department.
Md Abdullah Al Mahmud, sub-assistant engineer at Dacope Public Health Engineering Office, explained, "The underground aquifers here are so saline that tubewells are ineffective. No matter how deep we dig, the water remains undrinkable. We need targeted interventions -- preserving good ponds, promoting rainwater harvesting, and investing in RO (reverse osmosis) treatment."
The coastal regions of Bangladesh face high salinity due to their geography and environmental challenges. Most residents rely on ponds or rainwater. Others buy purified water sold by local businesses.
In Polder 33 alone, eight private facilities process and sell treated water. While government and NGO initiatives exist, poor coordination and lack of commitment have yielded limited results. Salinity levels are rising, worsening the crisis.
Experts argue that access to safe drinking water is a basic human right. Yet for coastal communities, it remains a costly privilege. Without sustainable solutions, the crisis will only escalate.
Since 2015, the NGO BEDS (Bangladesh Environment and Development Society) has been collecting and purifying rainwater for local distribution.
Operating three RO units, each purifying 15,000 litres per hour, BEDS supplies 50,000 litres of water daily across 30 villages. "We sell water at 50 paisa per litre -- enough to cover maintenance. Some buy in bulk and resell via vans at 20–40 taka per 20-litre jar," said Md Maksudur Rahman, BEDS' chief executive.
Still, the problem is vast. The Department of Public Health Engineering reports coastal water salinity levels often range between 3,000–4,000 mg of chloride per litre -- far exceeding the 600 mg safe limit.
Standard RO systems can't filter such high salinity, but the department is developing advanced filtration solutions.
Over the past five years, DPHE has distributed more than 125,000 rainwater harvesting tanks (3,000-litre capacity each) across three coastal districts, offering four to five months of drinking water during monsoon season.
Md Jamanur Rahman, superintending engineer of DPHE Khulna, said, "Our freshwater is shrinking due to shrimp and crab farming. This must be regulated. Surface water treatment and pipeline distribution are the most effective long-term solutions."
He also called for accurate mapping to ensure NGO-led projects serve the right communities.
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