COX’S BAZAR, BANGLADESH — On a moonless night in late February, 19-year-old Anwar (name changed) boarded a wooden trawler anchored quietly along the coast near Shamlapur, in southeastern Bangladesh. The boat was bound for Malaysia, or so he was told.
The man who convinced Anwar was someone he had known for years inside the sprawling Kutupalong refugee camp—a friend of his uncle. “He said there would be work in a restaurant in Kuala Lumpur,” Anwar recalled. “He said we would reach in 10 days.”
But after just three days at sea, the boat’s engine failed. With no satellite phone, no GPS, and limited food, the passengers drifted aimlessly for five more days before being rescued by the Bangladesh Coast Guard. Anwar was lucky. Dozens of others from the camp remain missing at sea.
The Lure of False Hope
For many Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh, trapped in overcrowded camps without the right to work, move freely, or pursue formal education, the promises of traffickers have become a dangerous temptation. These networks thrive on desperation, weaving narratives of opportunity and escape at a time when hope is in short supply.
According to the International Organization for Migration (IOM), trafficking networks operating in and around Cox’s Bazar are often composed of former fishermen, brokers, or even displaced Rohingya themselves. Their promises range from employment opportunities in Malaysia or Indonesia to family reunification and safe resettlement.
Yet these journeys often end in tragedy.
A Transnational Web
The trafficking networks span several countries. Recruiters operate inside Bangladesh’s refugee camps, particularly in Teknaf and Ukhiya, identifying vulnerable individuals—often teenage boys and widowed women—and connecting them to smugglers with boats along the Naf River or Bay of Bengal.
Transit points include the southern coasts of Myanmar, the Thai-Malay border, and even remote jungle camps in southern Thailand. According to a 2023 report by Human Rights Watch, many trafficked Rohingya face arbitrary detention, extortion, forced labor, or sexual violence along these routes.
“The sea journey is only the beginning,” said a field officer with IOM who requested anonymity. “Many women are separated during transit and never rejoin the group. They disappear into exploitative labor networks.”
The U.S. State Department’s 2024 Trafficking in Persons Report noted that traffickers often use forged documents and bribes to move people through checkpoints, making detection extremely difficult.
The Role of Deprivation
One of the most cited reasons for increased trafficking has been the deterioration of camp conditions. In 2023, the World Food Programme (WFP) was forced to reduce monthly rations for Rohingya refugees from $12 to $8 per person due to funding shortfalls.
“When people are hungry, they will take risks,” said Mohammad Noor, a community teacher in Camp 13. “The traffickers know this. They exploit it.”
In a 2024 briefing, UNHCR warned that continued funding gaps could worsen security and protection issues in the camps, including the rise of criminal networks.
Extortion and Abuse
Those who board the boats often experience appalling abuse. Survivors interviewed by Rohingya Khobor described being beaten for requesting food, watching others thrown overboard, or being held for ransom in jungle camps along the Thai-Malay border.
Fatema, a 22-year-old woman from Camp 21, shared how she was promised reunion with her brother in Penang. Instead, she was taken to a remote house in Myanmar and held for two weeks with 11 other women. “They told us if no one paid, we would be sold. I was lucky my cousin sent money,” she said.
Others are not so fortunate. Several survivors say that even after reaching Malaysia, they are forced into bonded labor, with employers withholding pay to recover the cost of the smuggling fee.
Policy Gaps and Law Enforcement Challenges
Despite efforts by Bangladeshi authorities, including periodic crackdowns and naval patrols, traffickers continue to adapt. Many operate with the help of local collaborators or corrupt intermediaries.
“Our patrols cover wide areas, but they [traffickers] use remote beaches and coded communication,” said an officer from the Bangladesh Coast Guard. “The networks are deep.”
Regional cooperation also remains weak. While ASEAN countries have acknowledged the trafficking crisis, few concrete mechanisms have been put in place to coordinate interception, victim protection, or prosecution across borders.
The Economic Logic of Risk
The cost of a trafficking journey varies from $800 to $2,000. Families often pool resources or sell what little they have, viewing it as an investment. Some Rohingya even attempt the journey multiple times, despite previous failures.
“My brother was caught once, sent back, and went again,” said Kalima Khatun, a widow in Camp 3. “He said dying at sea was better than dying slowly here.”
This logic is underpinned by years of stagnation. Without legal pathways for resettlement or repatriation, the camps have become holding grounds for a population in limbo.
What Needs to Change
Experts and humanitarian groups agree that the trafficking crisis will not end with arrests alone. What’s needed is a multi-pronged response:
- Restoring aid and rations to reduce the economic desperation driving refugees to traffickers
- Expanding education and vocational training inside camps to offer alternatives
- Strengthening international resettlement programs for at-risk individuals
- Improving cross-border coordination among regional law enforcement agencies
- Ensuring accountability for trafficking crimes and protecting survivors from re-victimization
A Final Word
Anwar, who survived the failed boat journey in February, now lives with his mother and two younger siblings in a makeshift shelter with no electricity. He no longer dreams of Malaysia. But his voice trembles when asked if others might still try.
“They will,” he says. “They have nothing left. That’s when you listen to lies.”
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