Men who once harvested rice now drive auto-rickshaws along the asphalt.

Snails and mud clams also play a vital role in maintaining aquatic ecosystems by absorbing harmful substances from river and canal beds.

We need a new image of the labour movement, and a new class of entrepreneurs who will see workers not merely as tools for profit but as partners in progress.

Dawn no longer breaks with the chirping of birds in Lawachara National Park — only with the rustle of leaves falling from dying trees. The cries of monkeys echo through the emptiness where deer once danced.

Despite promises of financial support and rehabilitation, many are still waiting for aid to arrive.

The very land that the Rakhines once regarded as their mark of existence is now shrinking

Satkhira is one of the areas most affected by salinity, where both surface and groundwater are increasingly saline.

In the shifting mudflats and mangrove thickets of the Sundarbans, survival is a constant negotiation.

There was a time in Bangladesh when the family home was more than just a roof over one’s head—it was a living institution. Generations grew together under its shade, sharing meals, quarrels, stories, and responsibilities.

Behind the walls and the daily chaos lies a harsher reality for the marginalised communities living in Dhaka’s bursting slums.

In Gandaria, one of the oldest neighbourhoods in Puran Dhaka, two unlikely legacies are fading together: a century-old herbal medicine company and the monkeys that once thrived in these streets.

The symbolism of the Tree Hospital is powerful. It shows that preserving the environment is not only about protecting forests far from human settlements

In the markets of North Bengal, the Rabidas community has long endured prejudice, their cobbler’s stools passed from one generation to the next.

When dusk falls over the countryside, a hush settles on the trees. Once, that silence would be broken by the soft “whoo-whoo” of a spotted owlet or the eerie call of a barn owl gliding above rice paddies. Now, the night feels strangely silent.

Once spread across several areas of Chunarughat, the Tripura people have now been reduced to just 24 families

It began with a question, the kind of question that arrives quietly, almost like a sigh.

Aung Rakhine, director of Mor Thengari (My Bicycle, 2015)—the first Chakma-language feature—shares his vision for portraying Bangladesh’s indigenous lives, as he prepares his next film, Mro, on the stories and beliefs of the Mro community.

In the critical moments of a medical emergency or sudden accident, the very service meant to save lives—the ambulance—often becomes another source of dismay.

At dawn, when Dhaka is just beginning to stir, thousands of rickshaw pullers set off on their daily grind.

Once, the rooftops, orchards, and gardens of Bangladesh stirred with the restless energy of squirrels.