It’s 3:47pm in mid-August and the sun blazes overhead like a scorching punishment. On a traffic-choked road in Mohammadpur, a rickshaw puller named Rubel slumps over his handlebars.
“This city was not like this even ten years ago. Now the heat is everywhere, and it does not let you breathe. It is like riding through fire. The heat of the road burns my feet through my sandals,” he said, wiping sweat from his face.
Rubel is not imagining it. The data affirms his agony. According to satellite thermal imaging from the Bangladesh Meteorological Department, Dhaka’s surface temperature now regularly rises 5 to 7 degrees Celsius higher than the surrounding rural areas.
But Dhaka was not always like this. The transformation of the city is deeply imprinted in the memories of the city’s elders. They recall a gentler time, when air moved freely and the land still breathed.
Dhaka’s heat today is not an accident. It is the result of a hundred bad decisions layered on top of each other. It is an engineered catastrophe.
A heat island in the making
As development began, more people moved here in search of hope, and a parallel rush for housing started. Agricultural fields were filled; wetlands were stolen. Trees were cut down, and canals disappeared under shopping malls and concrete.
Between 1995 and 2020, over 11,000 hectares of wetlands and floodplains were filled for construction, often illegally and without consequence. Dhaka has lost more than 70% of its tree cover since the 1990s.
“Dholai Khal was once connected to four rivers, but now it has declined to an extent that we can’t recover,” admitted Mahfuja Aktar, town planner, Rajdhani Unnayan Kartripakkha (Rajuk). “Our government did that in the name of development. There was also a canal in Panthopath that was destroyed. We didn’t consider the effects of it in the long run. I think that’s the main reason for this extreme unnatural heat.”
The planner admitted that it was not just private developers but the government that contributed to this unplanned growth. “We didn’t think about the future generations, which is very alarming,” she said, underscoring the long-term consequences of these decisions.
High-rise buildings stand very close to each other, suffocating natural airflow. Rajuk’s own 2022–2035 Detailed Area Plan states that over 60% of new buildings violate building codes, especially those related to ventilation, spacing and height.
A 2023 study by ICCCAD reveals that wind speeds in central Dhaka have dropped by up to 20% due to unplanned vertical construction. We have walled off the wind and blocked the breeze.
As Shawkat Ali Mirza, director of the Department of Environment, explained, “During the monsoon, the air flows from the South, Southwestern to North, Northeastern direction. If we don’t consider these before construction, then we will most definitely suffer.”
In a slum near Bosila, a pregnant woman named Johra sits outside her hut, soaked in sweat, fanning herself with an old newspaper. “We pour water on the floor and roof to cool it. My son had heatstroke last week.”
Hospitals like Dhaka Medical College report summer spikes in heatstroke, dehydration and cardiac issues. “Every year, it gets worse,” says Dr Sahariar Shuvo, an emergency doctor at Dhaka Medical College. “People faint on the street. The poor are hit hardest as they cannot afford an AC or even a working fan.” In tin- roof slums, indoor temperatures can reach 45°C or more. These are not homes anymore, they are slow cookers.
Meanwhile, industries keep belching heat into the air. Along with that, Dhaka has over 1.6 million registered vehicles. Most of these are outdated and when stuck in traffic, they pump hot air into an already blazing atmosphere. “Emissions from transport are also a contributing factor,” said DoE’s Shawkat. “If we can minimise congestion, the emissions will also decrease.”
The use of air conditioners has tripled in the past decade. While they cool the inside, they dump heat outside. “Before, schools had natural green spots and long corridors, but now we plan construction with AC in mind,” said the RAJUK planner. “All these things are making Dhaka harder to live in.”
A 2021 ILO report warned that extreme heat could reduce Bangladesh’s total working hours by 5% by 2030. This means less work, more illness and deeper exhaustion.
The way out
Among many, Ahmedabad launched white roof programs and public cooling shelters. Singapore mandated vertical gardens. These were not billion-dollar projects. They were decisions made with empathy and urgency.
So, what about us?
“We must preserve the remaining waterbodies and green spaces,” urged the Rajuk planner. “The Town Improvement Act and the Building Construction Act should be implemented strictly to not damage the city further with unplanned construction of Residential or Commercial blocks. We should also reward those who contribute to a greener future.”
“There are many houses and markets built on the canals; we must remove those with force, if necessary,” said Shawkat Ali Mirza. “We are also doing a study on the Heat Island effect on Dhaka and to compare, we have taken Mymensingh as a less urbanised city. We can soon share the results of the study with all. We are responsible for the Dhaka heat, not climate change”
This is no longer just an environmental issue. It is about whether this city remains liveable at all.
“We can’t air-condition our way out,” says Tanvir Haroon, an environmentalist at IUB. “We must redesign the city or take the consequences.”
Let us plant, reflect, redesign and breathe again before it is too late.
