The smell of salt and mangrove leaves fills the humid air as the tide retreats along the muddy banks of the Sundarbans. Fishing boats creak in the stillness, and somewhere in the distance, a spotted deer steps softly between the pneumatophores — roots that breathe even when the land does not.

For the millions who live along Bangladesh’s southern coast, this forest is more than just a landscape. It’s a living wall — a natural shield that stands between them and the fury of the sea.

A living barrier against disaster

Every cyclone that rises in the Bay of Bengal tests the resilience of the Sundarbans. When Cyclone Sidr struck in 2007, winds howled at over 200 km per hour, claiming thousands of lives. Yet experts estimate that the mangrove forest absorbed nearly half the storm’s energy before it reached the densely populated coast.

“Without the Sundarbans, the devastation would have been unimaginable,” says Dr Anjum Rahman, a coastal ecologist at Khulna University. “The forest acts like a sponge — it slows down wind, reduces wave height, and protects embankments and human lives.”

According to the Bangladesh Forest Department, around 4.1 million people depend directly on the Sundarbans for their livelihood — fishing, honey collection, crab farming, or small-scale tourism. But millions more depend on it indirectly, as it quietly guards them from rising seas and violent storms.

Carbon bank of the delta

The Sundarbans is not just a storm buffer — it’s also a powerful carbon sink. Studies show that mangroves store up to four times more carbon per hectare than tropical rainforests. The dense, waterlogged soil traps carbon for centuries, locking it away safely below ground.

In 2022, researchers from the Center for Environmental and Geographic Information Services (CEGIS) estimated that the Sundarbans stores over 56 million tonnes of carbon. This “blue carbon” helps offset Bangladesh’s own emissions — a crucial contribution from a country that emits less than 0.5% of global greenhouse gases but suffers disproportionately from their impacts.

The mangrove’s roots, branches, and soils work in perfect harmony, capturing carbon from the air and storing it deep within the delta. “This forest is like a natural bank account for the planet,” explains climate scientist Dr Saleh Ahmed. “Every mangrove tree is a deposit in our future.”

A fragile fortress

Yet the Sundarbans is under threat. Rising salinity, upstream dams, industrial pollution, and unplanned tourism are slowly eroding this living fortress. Each year, parts of the forest shrink as tidal surges creep further inland, and tiger habitats become fragmented.

The 2019 fire in the Chandpai Range and the frequent oil spills in the Pasur River have added further pressure to the delicate ecosystem. Locals report that honey yield has dropped by 40% in some areas, while fish populations are declining due to water contamination and temperature rise.

Climate change isn’t just coming for the Sundarbans — it’s already here,” says Shamsul Alam, a honey collector from Mongla. “The tides are higher, and the air feels heavier. We used to know when to expect floods. Now, the seasons don’t listen anymore.”

Hope through restoration

Despite the mounting challenges, conservation efforts offer a glimmer of hope. Bangladesh’s government has expanded protected zones, restricting industrial activity within 10 kilometers of the forest. Local initiatives  are empowering villagers to monitor forest health, plant mangroves, and reduce illegal logging. International collaborations are also focusing on restoring degraded mangrove belts and improving early warning systems.

Young environmentalists, too, are stepping in. Student groups from Khulna University and the Institute of Disaster Management are conducting drone-based mapping of erosion patterns, while NGOs like WildTeam work with locals to reduce human-tiger conflict.

Guardians of tomorrow

The Sundarbans is more than an ecosystem; it is a story of balance — between land and sea, human and nature, survival and surrender. As the tides of climate change rise, so too must our commitment to protect what protects us.

Standing at the forest’s edge, as the light fades through the mangrove canopy, it’s easy to feel humbled. Here, where rivers meet the sea, Bangladesh’s future is being written in mud, salt, and roots.

Because if the Sundarbans falls, the coast will fall with it.

And if it stands — so will we.

Afrina Momotaj is a Climate-Smart Agriculturist & Environmental Writer. Email: [email protected].