Along the banks of the Karnaphuli River, Chattogram’s traditional fishing hubs, Patenga and Patharghata, are usually alive with noise and movement. Engines roar, traders haggle, and labourers rush to unload the day’s catch. Now, that energy has faded.
A government ban on marine fishing, imposed to protect breeding fish, has brought an unusual stillness. Thousands of trawlers lie anchored in calm water instead of braving the Bay of Bengal. Silence carries both relief for the sea and anxiety for those who depend on it.
The fishermen, however, are not entirely idle. Slow mornings give way to purposeful afternoons as the ghats fill with the quiet rhythm of repair work. Torn nets, damaged by saltwater and heavy catches, are carefully mended by hand. It is meticulous work, but essential. These preparations will determine how quickly they can return to sea once the ban is lifted.
Others spend their days fixing boats or repairing engines. Every small adjustment matters. A delay in readiness could mean lost opportunities in an already uncertain season.
For men used to the constant struggle against waves, being confined to land presents a different challenge. Passing time becomes difficult. To cope, they turn to simple distractions. On open ground or atop idle trawlers, games of Ludo and cards unfold.
By late afternoon, younger fishermen gather for football or carrom. Tea stalls nearby buzz with stories of past catches and cautious hopes for the future.
Yet beneath this routine lies a growing strain. Livelihood remains the central concern.
During the ban, the government is providing 40 kilograms of VGF rice per month to more than 311,000 marine fishermen across 14 coastal districts, including Chattogram. But many say rice alone is not enough. Daily essentials like oil, salt, spices and the cost of children’s education require cash, which is in short supply.
As a result, some are turning to informal loans from local lenders, often at high cost. What begins as a necessity can quickly become a burden, trapping families in cycles of debt.
The 58-day ban, from April 15 to June 11, aims to protect the breeding of around 475 species of fish in the Bay of Bengal. Previously, the ban lasted 65 days, but it was reduced by seven days following fisherman’s demands and to align with the fishing bans period in neighbouring India.
For now, the quiet along the Karnaphuli reflects both a necessary pause for nature and the fragile reality of those who live by it.
