Sonadia Island’s fragile biodiversity is collapsing as illegal resorts, forest clearing, bright lights and noisy night tourism drive away endangered sea turtles and disrupt wildlife. Despite its protected ECA status, unchecked construction and land grabbing continue to destroy one of Bangladesh’s richest coastal ecosystems.
Every year from October to March, Sonadia Island prepares for one of nature’s quietest miracles, the arrival of endangered sea turtles who heave themselves ashore under moonlight, leaving behind nests filled with thousands of eggs.
Only a few years ago, the island recorded more than 10,000 eggs in a season, and even last year volunteer groups collected 3,500. But this year the beach has remained barren. Not a single mother turtle arrived until November.
The absence is not a mystery to the people who live closest to this fragile ecosystem; it is a warning. Sonadia, once known for its stillness, darkness and undisturbed stretches of sand, is no longer the place where wildlife feels safe enough to continue its ancient rituals.
The Island that no longer sleeps
For generations, Sonadia was a world unto itself, mangroves, mudflats, sand dunes and the constant movement of crabs and birds.
Today, that solitude has been replaced by the sound of hammers, diesel engines, loudspeakers and neon lights. Local residents, speaking quietly and requesting anonymity, say that in just one month at least 15 new cottages and resorts have sprung up across the island. Entire rows of casuarina trees have been felled, forest land has been grabbed, and new foundations appear almost weekly. At night, bright lights spill across the sand and music punctures the quiet.
For a species like the olive ridley turtle, whose nesting depends on darkness, silence and isolation, this human intrusion is devastating. “The mother turtles no longer come because the beach is too loud, too bright, too crowded,” one villager said.
Where forest once stood, resorts now claim territory
A short walk along the east coast of Sonadia makes the transformation unmistakable. What used to be a five-acre stretch of coastal forest in Mograpara is now a resort lined with bamboo cottages and glowing with colourful lights. At Sandy Beach Resort, the owners boast of more rooms to come, already spending ten lakh taka and claiming they faced no resistance from the authorities. Nearby, Camp Fire Sonadia caters to tourists seeking “nightlife by the sea.” On the west, new names, Sandy Hill Beach Sonadia, Marina de Sonadia, and others—rise where turtle nesting dunes and bird foraging grounds once lay undisturbed. Each structure is built deeper into the heart of the island’s ecologically sensitive zones, tightening the circle around the wildlife that depends on these spaces to survive.
A protected sanctuary violated in plain sight
Sonadia is officially one of Bangladesh’s Ecologically Critical Areas, a legal status meant to shield its soil, water, vegetation and wildlife from destructive activity. Under the law, any construction, temporary or permanent, requires strict environmental clearance, which none of these resorts possess. Yet materials move freely onto the island; boats carry tourists daily; and cottages operate openly. Department of Environment officials admit that construction has taken place without approval and promise action, but the ecological harm is already well underway.
Lights disorient turtle hatchlings; sound disrupts night-active birds; tree clearing destabilises dunes; and plastic waste from tourist activities flows into creeks and mangroves. In a place where every species depends on silence and darkness, regulation has dissolved into an empty rulebook.
A history of policy mistakes that made the Island vulnerable
The crisis at Sonadia did not emerge in a vacuum. In 2017, the district administration allocated nearly 9,500 acres of the island to the Bangladesh Economic Zones Authority (BEZA) for an eco-tourism park. The plan, however, encouraged land speculation, tree felling, shrimp enclosures and unregulated access, transforming the island into a battleground of competing interests. Environmental groups repeatedly warned that the project was incompatible with Sonadia’s ecological sensitivity. After years of damage, and following a push from environmental adviser Syeda Rizwana Hasan, the Ministry of Land cancelled the allocation earlier this year. But the land has not yet been formally transferred back to the Forest Department. This bureaucratic limbo has created an enforcement vacuum, enabling resort owners and land grabbers to expand rapidly before new regulations can take hold.
When Saint Martin closed, tourism spilled into Sonadia
The sudden boom in Sonadia’s tourism is also tied to decisions made far beyond the island. With Saint Martin’s Island now closed to visitors for several months each year due to ecological pressure, tourists in Cox’s Bazar have turned to Sonadia as the next “untouched paradise.” Resort owners readily admit that overnight stays have surged; speedboats now deliver groups throughout the day, especially during weekends and holidays. What appeals to tourists, the remoteness, the quiet beaches, the sense of escape, is exactly what marine and coastal species need to survive. But loud barbecues, late-night music, bonfires and bright lights have become routine, creating an environment where turtles, shorebirds and nocturnal wildlife cannot function. Each night of human celebration becomes another night of ecological disruption.
Biodiversity that once thrived is now at risk of disappearing
Sonadia is small, but its ecological richness is extraordinary. Government records once listed more than 567 plant species, over 150 molluscs, dozens of crab and shrimp species, more than 200 species of fish, 12 amphibians, 19 reptiles and nearly 206 species of birds. It is one of Bangladesh’s last remaining sanctuaries for red crabs, migratory shorebirds and endangered turtles. Its mangroves serve as nurseries for fish and shelter for wildlife during storms. But habitat fragmentation, forest clearing, plastic pollution, noise and light are erasing this natural heritage piece by piece. The absence of turtles this year is an early indicator of ecological collapse, a sign that the most sensitive species are abandoning the island. If the trend continues, scientists fear other wildlife will soon follow, leaving Sonadia a shell of its former richness.
The race between destruction, protection
Sonadia’s fate now hinges on how quickly the authorities act and whether their actions are decisive. The Forest Department says it cannot fully intervene until the land is officially returned through a gazette notification, though it has begun compiling a list of illegal structures. The Maheshkhali UNO reports a recent eviction drive and promises more.
Environmental groups demand urgent bans on night lighting, noise and new construction, calling for the island’s biodiversity to take precedence over profit. But for every day that enforcement stalls, the island becomes more vulnerable. The turtles have already issued their verdict by staying away. The question now is whether humans will respond in time, or whether Sonadia, one of Bangladesh’s richest natural sanctuaries will slip irreversibly into decline.
