In a semi-nomadic fishing community where 98% of the population lives in poverty and children work from an early age to help their families survive, school is a luxury most cannot afford.
And yet, confronted with the impacts of a rapidly changing climate, education is their only hope.
New Launch Ghat, Galachipa, Bangladesh
Just weeks after unprecedented heatwaves baked the country, closing schools and businesses, residents of New Launch Ghat were weathering another disaster: Cyclone Remal battered the area for more than 24 hours with high winds, massive rain and a record-level storm surge.
The following day, as the water started to recede, residents surveyed the damage.
Trees had fallen, roofs had been blown off, houses had been flattened, and streets were still flooded.
“I’ve seen a lot of storms in my life, but never one like this. The wind and rain hammering the tin roof was deafening. Living near the river, we are used to some level of flooding, but this time the combination of excessive rain, strong winds, and the sudden rise in water level was something we’ve never seen before.”
Galachipa’s New Launch Ghat community is situated on the banks of the Galachipa River, 50 km north of the Bay of Bengal. Coastal areas like this are ground zero for climate change.
Rising sea levels, more frequent and intense cyclones, higher storm surges, frequent severe flooding, and accelerated rates of river erosion increases the vulnerability of coastal populations, resulting in repeated shocks that deepen cycles of poverty.
Life goes on
Just days after the storm, area residents are back at work.
In this community, life is hand to mouth: if you work, you eat.
Shumon Mia and his 9-year-old son, Musa, have been out on the river all morning. Shumon explains the pressures that drive him to "live in the river" all day, every day.
“I’ve been a fisherman since I was five years old. I never went to school, so this is the only skill I have. I don’t want my son to follow in my footsteps, but I can’t survive without his help.
Musa was just a baby when my wife and I started taking him fishing with us. During the monsoon season, we live on this boat for months at a time, moving around to catch fish to sell. When Musa was only three years old, he got very sick during one of those trips. People said he might die, so we took him to the hospital. He needed several surgeries, and we had to borrow a lot of money to pay for them, but we managed to save his life.
Now Musa is 9, and I’m still struggling to pay off that loan while working to put food in our stomachs. So I live on the river, and the only way to catch enough fish is with his help. He’s all I have.”
A school for the community
It’s nearly 2:30 pm when Shumon and Musa return to New Launch Ghat.
As they near the riverbank, Musa jumps off and races toward home.
After eating lunch and changing his clothes, Musa joins the other children making their way through the settlement toward the banyan tree at the edge of town.
The school’s main teacher is Shukhi Akter, 24, a resident of New Launch Ghat who is working to complete her bachelor’s degree.
Her 21-year-old sister, Keya, and a couple of local journalists also teach when they can.
In a community where most girls are married off by the age of 14 or 15, and boys are forced to start working full time at 12 or 13, Shukhi is the school’s—and the community’s—most influential role model, providing parents and children with a real-world example of the power of education to change lives.
“These are my children. I’m helping to raise them. I see them in the community every day—I’m so attached to them.”
The Dream Fulfillment School
One evening in 2017, Sakib Hasan, then a 23-year-old student, went for a walk on the banks of the Galachipa River.
There, he struck up a conversation with some of the kids from the nearby New Launch Ghat settlement.
“We talked about their lives—how they lived part of the year with their families on fishing boats, and the other part on nearby government land; how they worked to help their families survive by catching fish, selling snacks, and when they were a little bit older, working as laborers and rickshaw pullers.
“I remember what really struck me was that none of them had ever been to school. There was a government school nearby, but their long absences and the need to work made it impossible for them to attend.
“I decided I had to do something. I started going there most evenings. I told them that they would not be able to rely on fishing to sustain their lives in the future. I told them they needed to start studying. That's how this whole thing started.
“When we started classes, I had 17 students. As always, we would meet from around 4 to 6 p.m. when the kids had some free time.
“I expected it to last just a few weeks. I thought they would all leave and go fishing, and that would be the end of it. So I kept saying, ‘Well, I guess this is our last class…’ and everyone—the parents and the children—would say, ‘No, no, you can't stop coming’.”
“I’ve been coming here for seven years now. My parents never tell me to go to school. It’s my choice. I want to come. They really love me in this school, and I like spending time studying with everyone. When I get older I want to become a teacher like Shukhi Apa (Apa means sister). I want to teach, and I want to help.”
Shukhi Akter, volunteer teacher at the Galachipa Dream Fulfillment School, with Ity, one of her former students who has made it to the 10th grade and wants to be a journalist.
Over the past seven years, the school has grown.
Today, 30 to 50 children between the ages of about 4 and 14 attend classes six afternoons a week.
Sakib teaches a couple of times a week and organizes donations from local community members and small businesses to provide the children with books, bags, school supplies, and the occasional snack.
“It is our responsibility to prepare them for the future as best we can. Our time together is short, so we focus on the basics—A, B, C, D, 1, 2, 3, 4—because in the future, whatever they do, they need to be able to count their money, keep their accounts, read, and write. But to create a better life, they need to know so much more. So we bring in local role models to talk to them and answer their questions. ”
Founder of the Galachipa Dream Fulfillment School
“We bring in doctors to teach them about hygiene, good food and health. We bring in dentists to check their teeth and show them how to brush correctly. Police officers come in to talk about their jobs. Several of us who teach at the school are journalists, so we talk to them about what it's like to do our job. We've also brought in photographers, musicians, artists, and many others. Our kids ask great questions!
Preparing them for the future also means making them aware of the changes that will happen—and are already happening—due to climate change. Increased heat, more powerful storms, more floods, more erosion…these are the people who will be hit the hardest, and yet they have no idea what’s coming. The sooner we can make them aware, the better they will be able to adapt.”
A poem about the river
This afternoon’s class ends with a poem that generations of Bangladeshi children have learned in school, Amader Choto Nodi—Our Little River—by Rabindranath Tagore.
The idyllic river in Tagore’s poem sharply contrasts with the rivers these children know, where intense storms frequently sink small fishing boats, and rising waters flood and erode the land beneath their feet.
Our little river flows gently,
Winding through the green fields.
It murmurs softly as it goes,
Carrying stories untold.
On its banks, the tall grasses sway,
Dancing to the rhythm of the breeze.
The sunlit waters sparkle and gleam,
A mirror to the sky above.
Boats sail lazily upon its waves,
Fishermen casting their nets wide.
Children play along its shores,
Their laughter mingling with the river’s song.
As evening falls, the river rests,
Cradled in the arms of the night.
Stars reflect in its tranquil depths,
A lullaby to the world asleep.
“These kids have so little, but the challenges they face are so big. This land where we are standing won’t be here in another 20 years. It will be in the river.
As the situation gets worse, more and more families will suffer the same fate. Losing their land, they will be forced onto the river and their children won’t be able to attend school because they have to work to help their families survive.
For these children, education is the most important climate adaptation there is.
It’s the only way they will be able to transition out of the work their parents do and build a better future for themselves.”
The impact of climate change on education is undeniable, both in Bangladesh and across the globe.
- Worldwide, 1.3 billion school-age children are currently experiencing at least one extreme climate event every year.
- By 2050, climate change could displace more than 216 million people, forcing them out of their homes and communities. This displacement not only interrupts children’s education, it can cause significant psychosocial stress.
Education must be part of the solution, helping communities like New Launch Ghat by raising awareness and identifying solutions to fight the impacts of climate change. This will ensure a better future for their residents.
- To provide access to education for the large number of out-of-school children in Bangladesh, the government, with the support of GPE and partners, has enrolled thousands of children—including Rohingya refugees in Cox’s Bazar—in non-formal learning centers.
- With support from GPE—including technical assistance through the climate-smart initiative—Bangladesh will develop a framework for Climate Change in Education. This framework will integrate climate considerations into sector programs, school designs, curricula, teacher education, and community mobilization efforts.
Raqib, a student at the Galachipa Dream Fulfillment School.
Visuals and story: GPE/Kelley Lynch