Is Bangladesh Losing Land to the River? (Photo Essay)
Photo report on riverbank erosion in Bangladesh. Over 5,000 families were displaced as the Padma River rapidly swallowed entire villages, blurring the line between natural change and climate disaster.
Hashem Kazi feeding pigeons on the last piece of land near the Padma River.
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This article is part of the Invited Voices series, featuring real stories from communities on the frontlines of the climate crisis.
In this report, photojournalist Sohan Rahat takes us to the Padma River basin, a region in Bangladesh that is increasingly affected by riverbank erosion and climate migration.
According to NASA Earth Observatory, the Padma River has devoured more than 66,000 hectares of land since 1967. In this low-lying delta, erosion is common, but in 2018, something changed. In Naria, the river swallowed almost 35 kilometres of land within just a few weeks, causing one of the worst erosion disasters in more than a century.
More than 5,000 families lost their homes overnight. Entire villages were abandoned in fear. Multi-storey buildings collapsed, and people fled with only a few belongings. Mosques, temples, graveyards, and even schools disappeared within days.
As panic spread, residents began to sell their homes, often for almost nothing. Salvagers dismantled buildings piece by piece. Even trees were sold. Before the last parts of land disappeared, much of the area had already been stripped bare. A 100-year-old market, local bridges, and a health centre were all lost beneath the river’s rising flow.
This is not only a story about erosion. It is a story about erasure — of land, history, and belonging. It shows how the climate crisis is silently turning thousands of people into climate refugees.
These are the voices we need to hear. The photos below offer a powerful glimpse into life on the edge, where water meets memory, and survival begins with loss.
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The photo essay continues below. Each image tells a piece of the story — of loss, memory, and survival.
The bridge at Naria Bazaar has collapsed due to river erosion, cutting off access and isolating families.Twelve-year-old Raihan visits the place where his friends attended school. The building is gone, and with it, the rhythm of childhood in the village has disappeared.Sumon spends one last evening in what was once home. His family sold their house for a fraction of its value, hoping to salvage something before losing it all.Mass demolition swept through Naria. Families dismantled their homes, attempting to salvage building materials before the water could claim them.The local health complex collapsed on the second day of the disaster, leaving thousands without access to care when they needed it most.Every usable piece was retrieved before the river could erase it. These scenes became a daily occurrence in the affected areas.Trees were cut down and sold off. As homes fell, so did the forest that once protected them — a silent prelude to displacement.Sisters-in-law Hena and Bela Rani Das return to the last piece of land connected to their family. Their memories run deep, even as the land beneath them fades away.A man and his niece take a moment at the entrance of the house where she was born. Soon, there will be nothing left for them to come back to.A local boy's curiosity turns to sorrow as he watches river erosion gradually wash away all that lies in its path.A devoted worshipper saves a goddess statue from a ruined temple and gently places it by the riverbank. This kind act shows commitment and love, even in the face of loss.The shrine of Gazi Kalu was once a place for prayer and hope. But in just a few days, it was lost. The river flooded and destroyed everything, even the sacred ground.He remembered the family that used to live here. Now, only broken pieces are left. Coming here is the only way to honor what once was.A woman cries as the river takes away the shrine where she prayed. Her faith and sadness are strong, but they can't stop the power of nature.The river reaches open land where only tree stumps are left. Houses, trees, and memories are already gone.On what might be their last evening at the site, Motalib Hossain and his son say goodbye to the place they love. Tomorrow, it might not be there anymore.In the last meeting, the villagers prayed at the shrine for protection from above. However, the river kept coming closer without making a sound.
