Nafew Sajed Joy
An enjoyable swim at the world’s longest sea beach should never turn into tragedy. Yet, for many families visiting Cox’s Bazar, waves of joy turn into waves of grief. A father and son drowned while enjoying the sea, a group of students lost a friend within minutes to the current, a tourist was swept away and never came back. Each of these moments carried the same haunting question: Could they have been saved? The answer is yes, if lifeguards had been there.
The lifeguard safety net at risk
According to a recent national report by Sea-Safe Lifeguard, the only privately-run lifeguard service protecting tourists at Cox’s Bazar, shows that they are on the verge of shutting down due to a crippling shortage of funds. The closure could prove deadly for countless unsuspecting tourists.
Since 2014, Sea-Safe Lifeguard has operated just a five-kilometre stretch of the vast beach. In that limited zone, its trained lifeguards have saved around 800 lives, pulling tourists from the waves, and families spared from unbearable grief. Yet this vital service is collapsing. It costs 15 million BDT (1.5 crore taka) yearly to keep it running, a modest sum compared to the millions spent annually on promoting Cox’s Bazar as a tourist hotspot. To put it in perspective, the entire annual lifeguard budget is less than the cost of hosting a single mega event at the beach.
Yet, authorities hesitate. The district administration looks away. Hotel owners and tour operators see no direct profit. Since the benefits are not immediate, the urgency is ignored. This negligence is like untreated diabetes, the damage builds quietly until it strikes fatally.
The silent epidemic of drowning
Drowning is often seen as an isolated accident. In reality, it is a silent global epidemic. Every year, an estimated 236,000 people lose their lives to drowning, making it a major public health problem worldwide. It is one of the leading causes of death for children and people aged 1 to 24. Globally, drowning ranks as the third leading cause of unintentional injury death, accounting for 7% of all injury-related fatalities.
The burden of drowning is felt across all economies and regions, but it is especially severe in low and middle-income countries, which account for more than 90% of all unintentional drowning deaths. Over half of these deaths occur in the WHO Western Pacific Region and the WHO South-East Asia Region. Drowning death rates in the Western Pacific Region are 27–32 times higher than those seen in countries like the United Kingdom or Germany, highlighting the stark inequalities in risk and protection.
In Bangladesh, the situation is even alarming. Around 19,000 people die from drowning each year. On average, 50 lives are lost every day, and 40 of those are children. These are not just statistics; they represent families torn apart and futures cut short. Over the last decade, the World Health Organization (WHO) and UNICEF report that more than 2.5 million people have drowned worldwide.
In Cox’s Bazar alone, the Center for Injury Prevention and Research Bangladesh (CIPRB) report that 12 people have drowned while swimming at different points along the sea beach until August 2025. Beyond the beach, another 50 or more people drowned in the wider district, with Kutubdia, Ukhiya, and Ramu reporting the highest casualties. Each number carries a story of loss, a moment when lives could have been saved.
More than a cost: An investment in life
The irony is sharp. Bangladesh dreams of boosting tourism, branding Cox’s Bazar as a world-class destination. But what credibility does that dream hold if tourists are unprotected against the sea’s most basic dangers? A thriving tourism industry cannot be built on sand, it must be built on safety.
Lifeguards are not a luxury. They are the foundation of trust. Just as airplanes cannot fly without trained pilots, Cox’s Bazar cannot welcome millions of tourists without trained lifesavers on its shores.
The path forward is clear. The district administration must step up. Hotel associations and resort owners must pool resources. Tourism businesses must see safety not as charity but as shared responsibility. Lifeguard coverage must expand beyond five kilometres, backed with better equipment, training, and awareness campaigns.
At its heart, the issue is simple. Will Cox’s Bazar remain a place of joy, or will it continue turning laughter into mourning? The closure of Sea-Safe Lifeguard is not just the end of an institution. It is the end of hope for families who trust the sea to give them memories, not pain.
Spending on life-saving services is not a waste of resources. It is, in the truest sense, a sustainable investment, an investment in safety, in tourism, in life itself.
Lessons from around the world
On the golden sands of beaches across the globe, lifeguards stand as unsung guardians, yet their survival as a service often hangs in the balance. In Australia, Surf Life Saving Australia (SLSA) thrives through a blend of government grants, corporate sponsorships, community donations, and volunteer efforts, proving that shared responsibility can anchor safety. In the UK, the Royal National Lifeboat Institution (RNLI) charity sustains services almost entirely on donations and volunteers.
Neighbouring countries offer further lessons. India’s Drishti Marine is a private operator funded by government contracts and tourism stakeholders. Pakistan’s PALS (Pakistan Life Saving) Rescue relies on donations. The SwimSafe programme empowers children with swimming and survival skills to reduce drowning risks at their root. Together, these stories show that lifeguard services are sustained not by one actor alone but by a hybrid of governments, communities, NGOs, and businesses working in tandem.
The writer is a Researcher, writer, and environmentalist
