When an indigenous woman from the hills speaks of violence, she may not name it directly. She might talk about walking farther to collect water, about forests that no longer provide firewood, or about skipping meals so her children can eat.
Her words may not sound like demands, but they carry the weight of survival.
In the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT), women are often present in every story of resilience, yet absent from every policy conversation. Climate change has only deepened their vulnerability.
What was already fragile has now become nearly unbearable. For generations, many indigenous communities practiced jhum cultivation. The shifting cycle of farming was once well adapted to the hills. But that rhythm has broken. Erratic rainfall, long dry spells, and frequent landslides have made farming unpredictable. Crops are destroyed before they mature. Hunger arrives early and stays long.
The women holding agriculture together
During the lean season, especially from July to August, families often run out of food. And when food is scarce, it is the women who eat less. Most communities lack roads and market access, so options are few. The forest, once a source of security, now offers less and demands more.
Women’s burdens have multiplied. As water sources dry up or become contaminated, they must walk longer. As forests thin, firewood takes longer to find. When crops fail, women stretch resources, carry the worry, and find ways to feed the family. This comes from unpaid domestic work, caregiving, and agricultural labour. And this labour does not protect them from harm.
In times of disaster, when homes are lost or families migrate, women and girls face increased risks of sexual violence, trafficking, and harassment.
These dangers rarely find space in disaster preparedness plans or climate policies. Their trauma remains hidden. This silence is not accidental. It is political. Climate strategies mention women, but do not reflect the layered realities of those who are indigenous, poor, and rural. Gender is often an afterthought. Culture is seen as an obstacle, not a source of strength.
Justice systems that don’t reach the hills
When violence happens, there’s rarely anyone to turn to, and even fewer systems in place to help. Reporting is rare, not because violence is rare, but because women know they are unlikely to be believed, supported, or protected. The systems meant to serve them often deepen their exclusion.
A 2025 study by Share-Net Bangladesh found that out of 17 reported rape cases in the CHT, only five were officially filed with the police (share-netbangladesh.org). In 2020 alone, 25 cases of rape or attempted rape in the CHT.
Justice, in most cases, remained out of reach. Between January and June of 2021, 37 indigenous women across the country were subjected to violence in 33 separate incidents, almost half of them in the CHT. The most reported crimes were rape and attempted rape.
Behind these numbers are stories buried in silence. Nearly 95% of survivors feared stigma (iwgia.org). 60% did not seek any legal support at all. These women are not just failed by individuals. They are failed by systems that were never built with them in mind.
Resilience should not be the only option. Yet despite these challenges, indigenous women continue to lead. They protect biodiversity, care for communities, and pass down traditional knowledge. Their resilience is not a choice. It is a necessity. Resilience should not be the condition for dignity.
No more survival in silence
First, legal recognition of indigenous land rights is urgent. Without access to land and natural resources, indigenous women remain trapped in cycles of poverty and insecurity. Policies must be enforced, not just drafted. Gender must be integrated into climate action from the very beginning.
Second, their knowledge systems must be valued. When women receive training on climate-resilient agriculture, small businesses, or alternative livelihoods, they gain options. These options strengthen families and communities.
Third, financial tools can provide real safety nets. Access to credit, savings groups, and climate risk insurance can make recovery possible after shocks. Small-scale livestock and poultry initiatives have already shown positive results when implemented.
And finally, women need access to early warning systems through community alerts, mobile phones, and local media. Their participation in local disaster planning must be encouraged and supported. When women are in leadership roles, the entire community becomes more resilient.
Indigenous women are not waiting to be rescued. They are already holding up their communities. But they should not have to fight to be seen, heard, and protected.
They have survived environmental collapse and systemic erasure. What they need now is recognition, protection, and justice.
Originally this article was published on July 07, 2025 at Dhaka Tribune.
The author Jannat Ara Shifa is a gender analyst at the International Centre for Climate Change and Development (ICCCAD).
