
Rohingya refugees are increasingly risking their lives on dangerous sea crossings as conditions inside camps in Bangladesh deteriorate, pushing many toward desperate decisions in search of a better future.
For Rahila Begum, the journey nearly ended in tragedy. The 26-year-old spent two days drifting in the Andaman Sea earlier this month after the overcrowded boat she was traveling on capsized. Clinging to a piece of wood, she survived while hundreds of others are believed to have perished.
“I never thought I would survive,” she said, speaking from a temporary shelter in a refugee camp. Weak from fever and exhaustion, she recalled the moment the vessel went down. “It felt like the end of my life.”
Her experience reflects a broader pattern affecting thousands of Rohingya Muslims who attempt to flee camps in southeastern Bangladesh each year. Many set out toward destinations such as Indonesia and Malaysia, hoping to find safety and opportunity beyond the confines of camp life.
The journeys are often undertaken aboard fragile, overcrowded boats, where passengers face hunger, dehydration, and exposure to the elements. Fatal accidents are common, and rescue is never guaranteed.
Data from the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees shows that nearly 900 Rohingya were reported dead or missing in maritime crossings in 2025, making it the deadliest year on record. More than 6,500 people attempted the journey during that period.
The trend has continued into 2026. Between January and mid-April, over 2,800 individuals embarked on similar crossings, underscoring the persistent pressures driving migration.
At the center of the crisis is Cox’s Bazar, home to around 1.2 million Rohingya refugees. Most fled violence in Myanmar, particularly during a 2017 military crackdown that displaced hundreds of thousands.
In Myanmar, the Rohingya have long been denied citizenship and basic rights. A United Nations investigation described the 2017 campaign as having genocidal intent, a claim rejected by Myanmar’s authorities.
For those now in Bangladesh, options remain limited. Refugees are largely unable to work legally, have restricted access to education, and face tight controls on movement. Over time, these constraints have created a sense of stagnation and uncertainty.
Humanitarian aid, once a critical lifeline, has also come under strain. Funding shortages have forced agencies to reduce food assistance, leaving many families struggling to meet basic needs.
The World Food Programme recently revised its distribution system, adjusting aid based on household conditions. Monthly support now ranges from $12 per person for the most vulnerable to $7 for others classified as food insecure.
For many families, the reduction has been significant.
“My ration has been cut from $12 to $7 because I have an 18-year-old son,” said Mohammed Rafiq, a father of four. “But he does not earn anything.”
He explained that the reduced assistance is enough only for essentials like rice and cooking oil, leaving little room for more nutritious food.
“We are living in inhumane conditions,” he said. “There is no proper food, no education, no work. If my children leave by sea one day, I would not be surprised.”
Such conditions have fueled the growth of human trafficking networks that exploit the desperation of refugees. Many of these operations are organized within the camps themselves.
A trafficker who identified himself as Faisal said he had arranged passage for 20 people on the same boat that later sank. None survived.
“They come to us asking for a way out,” he said. “They know the risks. Some make it, some are arrested, some die.”
Faisal’s involvement highlights the cyclical nature of the trade. After traveling to Malaysia with traffickers in 2018, he later returned to the camps and joined the same network. Despite serving a prison sentence in Bangladesh for human trafficking, he resumed operations after his release.
Authorities have increased patrols along coastal areas and tightened surveillance within refugee camps in an effort to disrupt such networks. However, officials acknowledge that enforcement alone cannot address the underlying causes.
“The level of desperation makes it very difficult to stop these journeys,” one official said.
For many refugees, the decision to leave is shaped by multiple factors. In Begum’s case, economic hardship was compounded by personal struggles. She said she experienced abuse after her marriage and was eventually rejected by her husband.
“I was beaten because I could not have children,” she said. “There was no life left for me.”
She also bears physical scars from the journey, including burns caused by hot engine oil mixed with seawater during the voyage.
Despite the dangers, the number of people attempting crossings continues to rise. Traditionally, such journeys peak during calmer weather, but many are now willing to travel even under riskier conditions.
This shift suggests that for many, the hardships of remaining in the camps outweigh the dangers of the sea.
Astrid Castelein, an official with the UN refugee agency, said the situation reflects a growing sense of urgency among the Rohingya population.
“They aspire to a better life, but that hope is increasingly turning into desperation,” she said.
Regional responses have varied. Countries such as Indonesia and Malaysia have periodically received arrivals, often balancing humanitarian considerations with immigration controls. However, the lack of a coordinated regional framework has left many refugees without clear pathways to protection.
The ongoing crisis underscores broader challenges in addressing displacement and statelessness. Without durable solutions—such as safe repatriation, resettlement, or integration—many Rohingya remain trapped in cycles of uncertainty.
For now, the Andaman Sea continues to represent both escape and danger. Each boat that departs carries the hopes of those on board, but also the risk of another tragedy.
As long as conditions in the camps remain unchanged and opportunities remain limited, these journeys are likely to continue—driven not by choice, but by necessity.