A young Rohingya woman survived a harrowing ordeal in the Andaman Sea this month, floating for two days on a piece of wood after her overcrowded vessel sank, leaving her as one of only a handful of survivors from a tragedy that claimed 250 lives.
Rahila Begum, 26, was among nearly 300 people aboard the doomed boat heading to Malaysia when disaster struck. She represents thousands of Rohingya Muslims who risk their lives annually on unsafe vessels, fleeing dire circumstances in refugee settlements in southeastern Bangladesh for hoped-for sanctuary in nations like Indonesia and Malaysia.
Each year, hundreds perish during these treacherous voyages from starvation or maritime accidents, yet the exodus continues to expand as reduced food allocations – triggered by declining international assistance – force even more to attempt the perilous journey.
“I never thought I would survive,” Begum said, her voice weak from illness and pain as she rested on a thin mat inside her family’s makeshift shelter constructed from plastic sheeting. “It felt like the end of my life.”
A Bangladeshi oil tanker crew pulled Begum from the water before transferring her to the nation’s Coast Guard following the vessel’s sinking earlier this month.
Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh’s coastal region, houses approximately 1.2 million Rohingya refugees, most having escaped violence and oppression in Myanmar, a Buddhist-majority nation where they face accusations of being foreigners.
Confined for years without employment rights, receiving minimal educational opportunities and decreasing food assistance, many see no prospects in Bangladesh while fearing a return to Myanmar remains too dangerous.
According to the U.N. refugee agency UNHCR, nearly 900 Rohingya were reported dead or missing in the Andaman Sea and Bay of Bengal in 2025, establishing it as the most fatal year recorded for maritime crossings in the region, with over 6,500 attempts made.
From January through mid-April this year, more than 2,800 Rohingya have undertaken such dangerous voyages, the agency reports.
“The Rohingya population is very young and aspires to a better life, but that hope is increasingly turning into desperation,” said Astrid Castelein, a UNHCR official.
“That is why youths and families are deciding to take these dangerous boat journeys.”
Officials have increased coastal monitoring and camp surveillance to combat human trafficking operations, according to a Bangladesh government representative who requested anonymity, though they admitted the overwhelming scale of desperation makes enforcement challenging.
Begum’s limbs and torso bear burn scars from hot engine oil mixed with saltwater that splashed on her during the disaster.
She departed Myanmar in 2017 during a military offensive that forced over 730,000 Rohingya into Bangladesh amid reports of murders, widespread sexual assault and arson – actions a United Nations investigation later characterized as “genocidal,” which Myanmar disputes.
Her situation deteriorated following her marriage four years ago, she explained.
“I was beaten because I could not have children. I knew I had to flee. There was no life left for me here,” she said, noting that her spouse refused to accept her return.
This month, the U.N. World Food Programme implemented a new system for distributing food assistance in Cox’s Bazar based on families’ income potential.
Monthly payments now vary from $12 per person for the most vulnerable populations to $7 for those classified as food insecure, with households led by minors, women and elderly individuals receiving priority support.
“My ration has been cut from $12 to $7 because I have an 18-year-old son,” said Mohammed Rafiq, 50, a father of four. “But does he earn anything?”
The reduced amount only covers rice and cooking oil, leaving no funds for the fish or meat his children desire.
“We are living in inhumane conditions,” he said, struggling against inadequate nutrition, housing, freedom, education and employment opportunities. “Even if my children leave by sea one day, I would not be surprised.”
This widespread desperation creates opportunities for human traffickers, many of whom are Rohingya refugees themselves.
One such individual, a 24-year-old who uses the alias Faisal, revealed he arranged passage for 20 people on the ill-fated vessel, including three women and two children, but none survived the catastrophe.
He now avoids phone calls from grieving families seeking information, he admitted. “They keep calling again and again … sometimes I just switch off my phone.”
Faisal explained he first traveled to Malaysia in 2018 using traffickers’ services before returning to the camps to join the smuggling business himself.
Despite serving a year in a Bangladeshi prison in 2020 for human trafficking charges, he resumed operations after his release.
Reuters was unable to verify his statements independently.
These dangerous crossings typically increase during calmer winter weather, Faisal noted, but growing desperation now drives people to accept greater risks year-round.
“They come to us asking for a way out,” he said. “They know the risks – some make it, some are arrested, some die.”
