At dawn in Bangladesh’s southwestern Chuadanga district, a thin veil of mist drifts over the fields as Shahin kneels to press a date-palm seed into the damp soil. The 27-year-old returned to his village after studying in the city, trading concrete for the scent of wet earth and the memory of childhood evenings by the river.
“Planting trees isn’t just a habit. It’s a responsibility,” he says, echoing the words of his father. Through Manobotar Jonno (For Humanity), the small environmental organisation he founded, Shahin has planted more than 5,000 palm and krishnachura trees across Puronpara village. The canopy now shades roads that once baked in the heat, and birds long absent, magpies, mynas and drongos, have returned.
Shahin’s activism stretches beyond reforestation. A YouthNet Global volunteer, he has led climate strikes, taught schoolchildren about climate justice and warned communities about toxic lead emissions from illegal factories. He does not formally belong to the EcoMen initiative, but his work mirrors its philosophy: sharing domestic chores, promoting gender equality and inspiring boys to view environmental care as a shared duty. “Small actions create a ripple effect,” he says. “I want my village to feel that ripple.”
A movement taking root
A few kilometres away in Baghadaha village, 25-year-old Bokhtiar Rahman leads a youth team of more than 100 volunteers. His environmental journey began as a child when he rescued an injured myna bird, a moment he still recalls vividly.
“Saving that bird made me believe I could do something for this world,” he says.
His team plants shade trees in scorching summers, rescues animals during monsoon floods and clears canals clogged by silt and waste. After heavy rains, the smell of wet leaves and the rustle of new growth mark their efforts. Villagers say the winds now feel cooler and the landscape more alive.
Bokhtiar teaches local children to build nests for birds and identify erosion-resistant plants. When a sudden flood tore away part of a restored pathway last year, he and his volunteers worked overnight to repair it. “Nature tests us,” he says. “But every challenge teaches patience.”
Fighting for water in Daulatdia
In neighbouring Daulatdia, Ahsan Habib and a group of young villagers are battling to protect ponds and canals, once rich with fish but now threatened by encroachment and pollution.
“When water bodies die, the whole village suffers,” Ahsan says.
His team clears illegally occupied land, restores wetlands and campaigns for cleaner water. When monsoon rains arrive, fish return, birds circle overhead and villagers once again gather at the ponds for chores and fishing. The work is often undone by storms or resistance from encroachers, but small victories, a schoolboy catching fish with his hands, women filling clean water in clay pots, keep them going.
EcoMen’s quiet influence
Across Bangladesh’s climate-hit regions, the EcoMen initiative works to reshape long-held gender norms by engaging men and boys in environmental stewardship.
In Kurigram’s remote river islands, father-son dialogues encourage shared responsibility in households and communities. Community radio programs discuss child marriage and gender-based violence. In Barishal, Manta fishing communities involve men in care work through courtyard sessions. In Khulna, dialogues centre on the struggles of Dalit sanitation workers, plastic pollution and mangrove conservation, while Shyamnagar uses arts-based activities to challenge stigma against widows.
“YouthNet and EcoMen show that when men embrace responsibility for both gender equity and the environment, they can transform communities,” says Sohanur Rahman, YouthNet Global’s executive coordinator. “It’s a form of ecological masculinity, and it unlocks real climate action.”
Climate pressures, resilient responses
The villages of Puronpara, Baghadaha and Daulatdia face the familiar challenges of rural Bangladesh: poverty, seasonal floods, heatwaves and limited access to education. But setbacks have only deepened the resolve of these young men.
A recent heatwave shrivelled hundreds of Shahin’s saplings. Instead of giving up, he mobilised neighbours to replant them, adding shade and adjusting watering schedules. “Failure is temporary,” he says. “Learning from it protects what we love.”
Ahsan has repeatedly negotiated with authorities to shield a small wetland from being drained. Bokhtiar’s group repairs erosion-prone roads after every heavy rain to ensure people and wildlife can move safely.
A quiet revolution
Their personal journeys, each beginning with a return from the city, reflect a broader shift in rural Bangladesh: a belief that environmental protection is not solely the domain of policymakers or NGOs, but a responsibility shared by ordinary men.
As the sun sets over glistening fields, children laugh, birds call from newly grown trees and the soft shimmer of leaves marks a landscape slowly healing. In one courtyard, boys help Ahsan restore a pond while herons swoop overhead, a living testament to the power of care, responsibility and community.
For Shahin, Bokhtiar and Ahsan, the mission is simple: if they protect nature, nature will protect them. Their villages, reborn through their hands, now carry the promise of renewal and a model for grassroots environmental stewardship in a warming world.
