Umesh stands at the edge of his field and points to the meagre crop of maize that has grown this dry season. It is late January in Hironpur village, far southwestern Bangladesh.
The afternoon sun beats down on the flat land, exposing the cracks in Umesh’s field. There is a freshwater canal nearby, but farmers like Umesh cannot access it. “The good parts of the canal have been taken over,” he explains. “The rich leaseholders use it for [farming] shrimp and threaten us if we want water, saying it will kill their profits.”
Bangladesh has a long-standing practice of allocating khas resources (state-owned land) to landless households in the name of poverty reduction. This includes stagnant open water bodies designated for fishing, known as jalmahals, under which many freshwater canals fall.
Such canals, as we see in Hironpur, are vital resources in Bangladesh’s salt-prone deltaic coast. They store rainwater during the monsoon season, supporting food production and domestic water needs during the dry season. But they are also vital as drainage outlets after extreme rainfall events. Traditionally, these canals have been accessible to all, making them prime examples of common pool resources.
However, many canals have been taken over – and remain under control – by influential local figures, political party members, regional syndicates, or wealthy urban investors.
Leased canals are typically banked, enclosed, diverted, or even filled in to allow intensive and profitable fish farming, shrimp ponds, or expanding farmland. Such mismanagement and lease abuses by elites – in the coastal areas as in other regions of Bangladesh – have far-reaching impacts on local communities.
Under the 2009 Jalmahal Management Policy, water bodies including canals are intended to be leased for 1–3 years to fishermen cooperative societies, local groups established to represent diverse, genuine fishing communities. However, those groups often remain bureaucratic, hierarchical and dominated by influential members with vested interests.
Unable to compete with more powerful community members, marginal fishers are effectively deprived of important income opportunities.
But canal leases also adversely affect farm-dependent households. Without access to sufficient water for dry season irrigation, many leave their fields fallow. Moreover, canal blockages undermine their drainage function, heightening the risk of waterlogging and crop losses after heavy rainfall.
Limited access also means that households – especially women – struggle to access water for domestic use, often having to pay to fetch water from once freely accessible resources. And for local governments, illegal leases and corruption often also mean less revenues.
Protests against such malpractices often have little success. Policy interventions largely failed to address these issues, hampered by persistent governance deficiencies – siloed decision-making, fragmented policies, inadequate oversight – and top-down development agendas.
Although regulations exempt flowing water bodies from leasing, many canals – and even entire stretches of river – remain under exploitative elite control. Additionally, long-term leases of up to 99 years – as we see in Hironpur – and subsequent profit-oriented sub-leasing remain common, in clear contradiction to the intention of the khas system to support those most in need.
The result is severe environmental impacts, with challenging social and economic consequences, particularly in light of intensifying climate change impacts in this highly vulnerable region.
Yet, while other exploitative practices, are well-documented, such as the rapid expansion of shrimp farming, the ongoing elite capture of freshwater canals has received less attention.
Seasonal struggles in Hironpur
Hironpur is a small village of about 300 households in the south of Khulna division, close to the vast Sundarbans mangrove forest. In this tidal, saline delta, rain-fed rice grown from July to December is the main crop. But in the dry season, farming depends entirely on the availability of freshwater from the canals.
The village sits along a canal that connects two rivers to the north and south, with five branches extending east and west. In the early 1990s, the community came together to dig and clear the canals’ silt, hoping to increase water availability and security.
Villagers still recall the repeated promises made by the local administrative unit’s (upazila) chairperson to open the canals for community use. But they were ultimately leased to politically connected individuals, without community consultation. “An outsider leased the canal for 99 years and subleases it yearly to selected residents for a fee,” explains Amal Mondal, a local farmer.
Today, most of the canal system is leased or de facto controlled by a wealthy few, and has been converted into fish or shrimp farms. Only small sections are open to the community – far from enough to meet their water needs. “After the aman [rice crop] season, there’s hardly any water left,” says Sadia Akter, another farmer. “What little remains soon turns saline.”
During monsoons, poor drainage threatens many fields. “Water drains only through this canal,” explains Sujan, Umesh’s wife. “But the leaseholders block it during the rainy season to protect their fish, causing crop losses each year.” As opposed to the wealthier and more powerful leaseholder, the residents have no say in managing the canal. “You can’t speak against the aquaculture owners,” says Dinesh Roy, a neighbour. “They are rich and connected: if you speak out, your life is at risk.”
During the dry season, residents face difficult choices. “It is better not to farm than to watch crops die,” says Akter. With few income opportunities outside farming, many (mostly men) seek work in larger cities as rickshaw pullers and construction workers. “We have no choice,” says another local, Nurjahan Begum. “My husband goes away to sell labour in Jessore, or else we will die without food. Only God knows how I survive with my children in those days.”
Some families resort to migration: women seek work in garment factories or households, leaving fields fallow until they return for the aman season. But seasonal migration is far from a panacea because people are under constant risk of becoming trapped in poverty by low-wage, unstable jobs.
A gender issue
Water issues are multifaceted and far-reaching, but the women of Bangladesh are on the front lines of escalating water insecurity. Studies and fieldwork conducted by CGIAR, a global food security research partnership, found approximately two-thirds of the country’s women experience acute water insecurity. This manifests as a larger domestic workload, economic losses, food poverty, physical strain and heightened stress.
“I wake up at dawn, clean the house, feed the cattle, care for my children and fetch water three times a day,” says Akter. “After cooking, I wash clothes in the pond and work in the fields with my husband. It’s hard.”
While water-related gender issues are often perceived as domestic issues, such as women being forced to walk longer distances to collect drinking water, CGIAR’s work highlights how water insecurity is increasingly tied to food production. When men migrate seasonally from Hironpur, the women’s responsibilities extend beyond housework and family care to include farm management and food production.
This reflects a broader “feminisation of agriculture” trend observed throughout the Global South. However, shifting responsibilities rarely lead to profound improvements in social equity or women’s empowerment. This is because disadvantageous power dynamics remain in place and patriarchal social norms, values and practices persist.
“When they enclosed the canal, we tried to resist,” says Amal Mondal. “They said they had the papers. They have money … connections. After all, we are women … no one listens. If you say anything, you will be beaten.”
Social, ecological – and political?
This case study reflects the facets and intricacies of governing common-pool resources. It also underscores the risks of overlooking both community diversity and deeply rooted sociopolitical elements when trying to tackle these issues. Addressing them requires nuanced approaches that critically examine the underlying power structures at play.
Despite the ongoing challenges of elite capture in Hironpur and beyond, the CGIAR research has observed emerging efforts to improve water security and support marginalised livelihoods.
Near Hironpur, the intervention of the Center for Natural Resource Studies, a regional NGO, led to the reclamation and rehabilitation of several canal segments. This restored community access and enabled dry-season agriculture.
In 2022, the country’s first women-led fishing cooperative was formed. Meanwhile, communities are joining forces to challenge illegal water capture, rehabilitate canals and strengthen collective management of jalmahals. To provide income and improve food security, rates of sustainable agriculture are increasing, shrimp farming is shrinking and salt-tolerant, water-efficient crops are being promoted. Subsistence fish farming in household ponds is another solution. However, more government support is urgently needed to expand these initiatives.
Building on existing successes, Bangladesh must prioritise localised, context-specific solutions to water management. The country must also amplify marginalised voices. These are key steps towards sustainable, equitable development in Bangladesh and beyond.
Names and locations have been changed to protect individuals’ privacy and security.
This article was originally published on Dialogue Earth under a Creative Commons licence.
