In a small village in Botiaghata, Khulna, Sanchita Bishwas described with pride the plots she now manages. “Watermelon grows across the land, bitter gourd frames the borders, and rui fish swim in the pond beside it,” she told me, a smile lighting up her face.
It was her own way of making the most of what little she has. Her husband is a school teacher who supports her work wholeheartedly. “He says: ‘Take money, cultivate as you wish. Use it where you need to,’” she said with quiet confidence.
Sanchita wakes early, tends to the crops, cooks, cleans, and keeps her household running. All this, while managing an integrated farming system in a region threatened by salinity and water-logging.
Her story is not one of helplessness. It is one of determination, adaptability, and steady leadership. Yet like so many women in climate-affected areas, her voice is missing from the conversations and decisions that shape agricultural adaptation.
‘We work as hard, but get less’
Nibha Rani Sardar, another farmer I met in the same area, works as a daily wage labourer. “Men get Tk600 a day. I get 400, and I work just as hard,” she told me, without bitterness, just stating a fact. “I do everything. Planting, harvesting, cooking, cleaning. It’s exhausting.”
Her words stayed with me. They echoed the experience of so many women who carry the double burden of productive and unpaid reproductive labour. Their contributions are vital but rarely acknowledged or compensated equally.
Left out, even when eager
Sanchita once had the chance to attend a three-month agricultural training course in Dhaka. “I couldn’t go,” she said. “Who would take care of the household?” Her voice lowered a little when she added, “I really wanted to. I watch farming videos on YouTube, and some women laugh at me. They think I’m wasting time.”
Even when there are local trainings, women often hear about them late or not at all. “I once tried to store seeds after a neighbour attended a seed preservation program. I failed. But I want to learn. If we could preserve good seeds, we’d save money and improve our crops.”
This is not a lack of interest. It is about opportunities that remain out of reach due to social roles, mobility challenges, and a lack of gender-sensitive planning.
Where are their voices?
When decisions are made about canal leasing, crop support, training schedules, or technology distribution, women are rarely consulted. Sometimes they are invited to attend meetings or join groups, but even then, their presence does not always lead to influence.
Sanchita told me she is not sure what groups exist for women like her. “Maybe something is there, but I haven’t been involved.” That absence says a lot, and it speaks to how easily rural women are left out, even when the systems are supposedly inclusive.
What they want isn’t complicated
When asked what would help them most, both women were clear. They need training in their own communities, knowledge on seed-saving techniques, access to agricultural machinery, and awareness of any loan schemes available for female farmers. These are practical requests, grounded in daily experience.
“Even if one seed packet costs Tk350, that’s a big cost for us,” Sanchita said. “If we could preserve high-yielding varieties, we’d feel more secure.”
They are not asking for favours. They are asking for tools and recognition.
Adaptation must include women to succeed
We hear a lot about locally-led adaptation in climate policy circles. But on the ground, it often leaves behind the women who are adapting every day. True adaptation is not only about salt tolerant seeds or embankment repair. It is about who gets to decide, who gets to learn, and who is given a place at the table.
What they need is for projects, policy-makers, and institutions to begin with a different assumption. These women are not passive victims. They are experienced, strategic farmers with deep knowledge and enormous resilience.
From the margins to the centre
We must ensure meaningful presence by making sure women are not passive beneficiaries but co-designers of the adaptation agenda. This includes access to information, decision-making, finance, and land. It also requires shared responsibilities at the household level and stronger institutional support.
Mainstreaming women into formal financial systems is critical. Financial inclusion can be improved by simplifying documentation processes, ensuring easier access to loans and insurance, and recognizing women’s land rights.
Support systems, such as women-led cooperatives and savings groups, should be strengthened to build collective resilience. Moreover, government and private institutions must work together to design services that are culturally sensitive and accessible to women from diverse backgrounds.
At the same time, those supporting them, such as NGOs, extension workers, and financial institutions, must also be equipped with gender-sensitive training and tools to truly support inclusive adaptation.
It is women like Sanchita and Nibha who rise before the sun, who plant and replant after each flood, who manage households and farms in the same breath.
They are making it, every day, with little support.
And it is time we placed women at the heart of the adaptation story, not just as symbols of vulnerability but as agents of transformation.
Originally this article was published on Aug 07, 2025 at Dhaka Tribune
About the Author
Jannat Ara Shifa is working as a Gender Analyst at the International Centre for Climate Change and Development (ICCCAD). She can be reached at jannat.shifa@icccad.org. The farmers whose voices are reflected in this piece are part of PARIBARTAN: Participatory Action Research on Locally-Led Iterative Learning and Inclusive Business Models for Adaptive Transformation in Bangladesh Polders. The project is funded by the Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research (ACIAR) and implemented by CIMMYT, the International Centre for Climate Change and Development (ICCCAD), and Shushilan NGO.
