AFP

Bangladeshi ferryman Kalu Molla began working on the Buriganga river before the patchwork of slums on its banks gave way to garment factories — and before its waters turned pitch black.

The 52-year-old has constant cough, allergies and skin rashes, and doctors have told him the vile-smelling sludge that has also wiped out marine life in one of Dhaka’s main waterways is to blame.

“Doctors told me to leave this job and leave the river. But how is that possible?” Molla told AFP near his home on the industrial outskirts of the capital Dhaka. “Ferrying people is my bread and butter.”

In the half-century since a devastating independence war left its people facing starvation, Bangladesh has emerged as an often unheralded economic success story.

The South Asian country of 169 million has overtaken its neighbour India in per capita income and will soon graduate from the United Nations’ list of the world’s least developed countries.

Underpinning years of runaway growth is the booming garment trade, servicing global fast-fashion powerhouses, employing millions of women and accounting for around 80 percent of the country’s $50 billion annual exports.

But environmentalists say the growth has come at an incalculable cost, with a toxic melange of dyes, tanning acids and other dangerous chemicals making their way into the water.

Bangladesh’s capital Dhaka was founded on the banks of the Buriganga more than 400 years ago by the Mughal empire.

“It is now the largest sewer of the country,” said Sheikh Rokon, the head of the Riverine People environmental rights group.

“For centuries people built their homes on its banks to bask in the river breeze,” he added. “Now the smell of toxic sludge during winter is so horrible that people have to hold their noses as they come near it.”

Water samples from the river found chromium and cadmium levels over six times the World Health Organization’s recommended maximums, according to a 2020 paper by the Bangladeshi government’s River Research Institute. 

Both elements are used in leather tanning and excessive exposure to either is extremely hazardous to human health: chromium is carcinogenic, and chronic cadmium exposure causes lung damage, kidney disease and premature births. 

Ammonia, phenol and other byproducts of fabric dyeing have also helped to starve the river of the oxygen needed to sustain marine life. 

– ‘They are powerful people’ –

In Shyampur, one of several sprawling industrial districts around Dhaka, locals told AFP that at least 300 local factories were discharging untreated wastewater into the Buriganga river.

Residents say they have given up complaining about the putrid smell of the water, knowing that offending businesses are easily able to shirk responsibility.

“The factories bribe (authorities) to buy the silence of the regulators,” said Chan Mia, who lives in the area. 

“If someone wants (to) raise the issue to the factories, they’d beat them up. They are powerful people with connections.” 

The crucial position of the textile trade in the economy has created a nexus between business owners and the country’s political establishment. In some cases, politicians themselves have become powerful industry players. 

Further south, in Narayanganj district, residents showed AFP a stream of crimson-coloured water draining into stagnant canals from a nearby factory. 

“But you cannot say a word about it loudly,” an area resident told AFP, speaking on condition of anonymity. “We only suffer in silence.”

The Bangladesh Garment Manufacturers and Exporters Association (BGMEA), which represents the interests of around 3,500 top factories, defends its record by pointing out the environmental certifications given out to its members.

“We are going green — that’s why we are witnessing big jumps in export orders,” BGMEA president Faruque Hassan told a recent press conference.

But smaller factories and sub-contractors operating on the industry’s razor thin margins say they are unable to afford the cost of wastewater treatment.

A top garment official in the Savar industrial district, speaking to AFP on condition of anonymity, said even most high-end factories serving major US and European brands often do not turn on their treatment machinery. 

“Not everyone regularly uses it. They want to save costs,” he said.

– ‘Facing the same fate’ –

Bangladesh is a delta country criss-crossed by more than 200 waterways, each of them connected to the mighty Ganges and Brahmatura rivers that course from the Himalayas and through the South Asian subcontinent.

More than a quarter of them are now heavily contaminated with industrial pollutants and need to be “urgently” saved, said an April legal notice sent to the government by the Bangladesh Environmental Lawyers Association (BELA). 

Authorities have established a commission tasked with saving key water bodies, upon which close to half the country’s population depend for farming, according to the UN Food and Agriculture Organization. 

The National River Commission has launched several high profile drives to fine factories found to have polluted rivers.

Its newly appointed chief, Manjur Chowdhury, said “greedy” industrialists were to blame for the state of the country’s waterways.

But he also admitted that the enforcement of existing penalties was inadequate to address the scale of the problem.

“We have to frame new laws to face this emergency situation. But it will take time,” he told AFP.

Any action will be too late for the five rivers that circle Dhaka and its industrial outskirts.

All are already technically dead, meaning they are completely devoid of marine life, said prominent environmental activist Sharif Jamil. 

“With factories now moving deep into the rural heartland, rivers across the country are facing the same fate,” he told AFP.

A fisherman on the Mekong river in Cambodia has hooked the biggest freshwater fish ever recorded, scientists said — a 300-kilogram stingray.

The giant freshwater stingray, which measured four metres (13 feet) from snout to tail, was caught last week and released back into the wild after being fitted with a tag to track its behaviour.

The monstrous bottom-dweller beat the previous record for biggest recorded freshwater fish, held by a 293-kilo (646-pound) Mekong giant catfish caught in Thailand in 2005, the US-funded Wonders of the Mekong research project said.

The stingray, caught in Stung Treng province in northern Cambodia, was more than twice the weight of an average lowland gorilla, the experts said.

“In 20 years of researching giant fish in rivers and lakes on six continents, this is the largest freshwater fish that we’ve encountered or that’s been documented anywhere worldwide,” Zeb Hogan, a fish biologist leading the Wonders of the Mekong project, said in a statement released Tuesday.

“This is an absolutely astonishing discovery, and justifies efforts to better understand the mysteries surrounding this species and the incredible stretch of river where it lives.”

The researchers fitted an acoustic tag to the stingray before returning it to the river, to try to learn more about the secretive creature’s elusive behaviour.

Last month, an endangered giant freshwater stingray four metres long and weighing 180 kilos was also hooked by a fisherman in the same province.

More than 1,000 fish species call the Mekong home and the stingray is not the only giant lurking in the muddy waters — the giant catfish and giant barb also reach up to three metres long and 270 kilos in weight.

Scientists have warned that plastic waste threatens wildlife even in the deepest stretches of the Mekong, along with “ghost nets” — abandoned by fishers but still able to snare fish.

The famous waterway starts in China and twists south through parts of Thailand, Laos, Myanmar, Cambodia and Vietnam, feeding 60 million people through its basin and tributaries.

But environmentalists have long voiced concerns about dam building along the Mekong River that will destroy fish stocks.

Every day for the past 14 years, 72-year-old Masaoki Tsuchiya has set out before sunrise to search for a bird rescued from extinction in Japan.

Starting his car under star-dotted skies unpolluted by light, he works alone in the pre-dawn chill, marking sightings or absences in a planner, interrupted only by the crackle of a walkie-talkie.

The bird he is looking for is called “toki” in Japanese, and its presence on his home of Sado island is testament to a remarkable conservation programme.

In just under two decades, Japan’s population of wild toki has gone from zero to nearly 500, all on Sado, where the bird’s delicate pink plumage and distinctive curved beak now draw tourists.

It’s a rare conservation success story when one in eight bird species globally are threatened with extinction, and involved international diplomacy and an agricultural revolution on a small island off Japan’s west coast.

– A cautionary tale –

Tsuchiya, stocky and spry with an impish grin, doesn’t eat breakfast until he has made all his stops, and after years of practice he can spot chicks hidden in nests through the monocular attached to his rolled-down car window.

He points to virtually imperceptible marks on a road or a wall that help him remember where to park and start surveying.

“The number I see at this spot depends on the season,” he explains.

Some days dozens of the birds appear in one area, something unimaginable in 2003, when a toki called Kin or “gold” died in a cage on Sado at the record-breaking age of 36.

Her death meant not a single wild-born toki was left in Japan, despite the bird being so synonymous with the country that it is also known as the Japanese crested ibis.

“I knew the day was coming. She was very old and frail,” Tsuchiya said. “But it was still a real pity.”

Efforts to get Kin to mate with Sado’s last wild-born male toki Midori — meaning “green” — had long since failed, and she lived out her last years as a curiosity and a cautionary environmental tale.

Her death made national headlines and appeared to mark the end of a long and seemingly futile battle to protect the toki in Japan, where its feathers even inspire the word for peach pink: “toki-iro”.

But now so many roam the skies and rice paddies of Sado that local officials have gone from discouraging eager birdwatchers to training guides to help visitors spot the local icon, and the government is even studying reintroducing the bird elsewhere.

– Wiped out –

Wild toki once lived across Japan, as well as in Russia, Taiwan and South Korea.

They were considered a pest that damaged rice plants, but during Japan’s Edo era, from 1603 to 1867, hunting restrictions meant only high-ranking officials could actively pursue birds like toki.

That changed in the Meiji era and as guns became more available. Toki meat was believed to have health benefits, and its feathers were favoured for everything from dusters to decorative flourishes on hats.

“Over just 40 years, the toki basically disappeared,” said Tsuchiya on an observation deck where visitors now try to spot the bird.

By the early 1930s, only a few dozen toki remained in Japan, mostly on Sado and the nearby Noto peninsula, and the species won protected status.

A fresh threat then emerged during Japan’s post-war drive for growth: rising use of chemical fertilisers and pesticides.

Toki feed primarily in rice paddies that mimic marshy wetland habitats and they are undiscriminating diners, eating everything from insects to small crabs and frogs.

The chemicals affected the birds and their food, and by 1981 just five wild toki remained in Japan, all on Sado, where officials took them into protective captivity.

But by bizarre coincidence, the same year a population of seven wild toki was discovered in a remote area of China’s Shaanxi province, reviving hopes for the bird’s survival.

Sado’s captive birds failed to mate, but China’s programme had more success, and when then-Chinese president Jiang Zemin made a historic first state visit in 1998 he offered Japan the gift of a pair of toki.

You You and Yang Yang arrived the following year on first-class seats, producing their first chick months later in an event that led national television broadcasts.

Other birds arrived from China, and with time Sado had a large enough population to consider reintroducing the toki to the wild.

But first they had to tackle the use of chemical fertilisers and pesticides on Sado.

“Back then people didn’t think about the environment when farming. Their priorities were selling products at a high price and harvesting as much as possible,” said Shinichiro Saito, a 60-year-old rice farmer.

Farmers were asked to cut chemical fertilisers and pesticides by half from the level allowed by local rules, but there was pushback.

Fewer chemicals meant smaller harvests, lost income, and more weeding.

And some farmers couldn’t see the point of other proposals like underground channels connecting rice fields to rivers to increase the flow of aquatic life.

– ‘Toki-friendly’ –

Local officials used a carrot-and-stick approach, refusing to buy rice from farmers who rejected the new chemical limits and creating a new premium brand of “toki-friendly” rice for those who did.

But Saito, who was an early adopter, said the real difference came when the first birds were released in 2008.

“It was the toki that changed their minds,” he said, with a lop-sided grin.

Even farmers reluctant to adapt were “delighted” to see a bird with almost mythical status on Sado wandering through their fields.

“This is a true story. The toki was almost like an environmental ambassador, it helped create a good environment for itself.”

Tsuchiya’s daily rounds began with the 2008 release. 

He has since witnessed triumphs including the first wild-born chick, and the first chick born to wild-born birds — moments he describes with the proud anxiety of a parent sending a child off to school for the first time.

He still runs his own business, though the toki feather tucked into his car’s folding mirror makes clear where his heart lies.

And the breeding programme has continued, supplemented by birds from China that help broaden the gene pool.

Around 20 birds are released twice a year after graduating from a three-month training programme that prepares them for life outside a cage.

“They learn how to fly, how to find food and to get used to being around humans,” explained Tomoki Tsuchiya, who works with Sado’s local government to make the island toki-friendly.

City officials even farm around the birds to acquaint them with the sound.

– ‘Like family’ –

When the first toki were released on Sado, there were so many gaps in knowledge about the species that volunteers analysed their droppings to find out what the birds were eating.

There were missteps: officials prepared a remote mountain location for the release, believing the birds would prefer seclusion, but the toki instead flew down to fields that were frequented by farmers.

Tomoki Tsuchiya’s interest in toki was fostered by his father, Masaoki.

But it is a fascination shared by many on Sado, where the bird is rendered in cute mascot form on everything from T-shirts to milk cartons.

“How can I express it? The toki is so important for people on Sado,” the 42-year-old said.

“It’s like family.”

Even after training, a toki’s future is precarious: only about half survive predators like snakes and weasels, and the survival rate for newborn chicks is similar.

But enough have thrived that Japan may expand the Sado programme, and there have been successes elsewhere. 

China’s wild population now numbers over 4,450, and a South Korean project released 40 toki for the first time in 2019.

For Saito, who speaks as toki squawk nearby, the bird’s resurrection is part of a bigger achievement on Sado — a new approach to farming and the environment.

“When this project started, what I dreamed of the most was seeing toki flying overhead while I farmed,” he said.

“An environment that is good for toki is an environment that is also safe for humans, and that’s something people on Sado can be proud of.”

Umm Mohammed, 74, waves a fan back and forth to cool down, but in the blistering heat of Iraq’s southern city of Basra there is nothing but stiflingly hot air.

While Basra is used to scorching summers, this year it has started sooner than expected, bringing misery to residents in a city also plagued by chronic electricity shortages. 

“By God, we are tired,” Umm Mohammed said faintly, adding that the heat had woken her up in the middle of the night.

Just days into summer, the temperature in Basra has already soared to around 45 degrees Celsius (113 Fahrenheit).

Umm Mohammed’s modest home has a flimsy sheet-metal roof that retains the sweltering heat.

Further north in the capital Baghdad, temperatures have already topped 50 Celsius — in the shade.

Battered by decades of conflict that has sapped its infrastructure, Iraq is struggling with droughts, repeated sandstorms, desertification and a drop in some river levels.

Chronic power cuts are exacerbated in the summer, and only those who can afford private generators are able to keep their fridges or air conditioning units running.

In Basra, high humidity compounds the oppressive heat.

And with many Iraqis struggling to survive, spending around $105 dollars a month for a private generator is not an option.

The authorities “must help poor people”, Umm Mohammed said, decrying their failure to provide an adequate mains supply.

Referring to how the government treats its citizens, she said: “Even God does not agree to that.” 

– ‘It’s hell’ – 

Iraq is the second-largest oil producer in the OPEC cartel.

But the once thriving country has for years bought gas from neighbouring Iran, which supplies about one-third of its power sector needs.

US sanctions on Iranian oil and gas have complicated Baghdad’s payments for the imports, leaving Iraq in heavy arrears and prompting Tehran to periodically switch off the taps.

The result is longer power cuts for most of Iraq’s 41-million-strong population, many of whom blame politicians and endemic corruption for their plight.

Anger over blackouts helped fuel deadly protests from late 2019 to mid-2020, including many in southern Iraq.

Nataq al-Khafaji, who lives in Nasiriyah, just north of Basra, said getting by in the heat without electricity was “very difficult for the children and the elderly”.

“It’s hell,” he added.

During the summer holidays, Khafaji’s three children have nowhere to go and little to do.

Stuck in their darkened home, they try as best as they can to escape the suffocating heat outdoors.

Khafaji has bought a battery-operated fan, but expressed worry that it would not be enough during the worst months “when it will be close to 50 degrees”.

– ‘National priority’ –

The United Nations ranks Iraq as one of the top five countries most vulnerable to climate change.

Since mid-April, it has been battered by 10 sandstorms — a product of intense drought, soil degradation, high temperatures and low rainfall linked to climate change.

President Barham Saleh has warned that tackling climate change “must become a national priority for Iraq as it is an existential threat to the future of our generations to come”.

Saleh said desertification affects 39 percent of Iraq, where water supplies are also dwindling drastically and crop yields are declining.

With heat waves and dust storms “expected to increase over the years”, so will health issues, said Seif al-Badr, a spokesman for the health ministry.

“We expect to be treating more people for a variety of illnesses linked to climate” change, he told AFP.

But efforts to address such issues appear to have been shelved, as Iraq grapples with political deadlock that has left it without a new government after polls last October.

The World Bank has warned that unless solutions are found, Iraq could lose 20 percent of its water resources by 2050 due to climate change.