THE progressive withdrawal of humanitarian assistance to Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh now threatens the safety and dignity of more than 1.2 million stateless people, and places at risk regional stability, Bangladesh’s social fabric and the prospect of secure, sustainable repatriation. Reductions in support from NGOs, international agencies and the United Nation, most visibly the World Food Programme, are already forcing refugees to confront worsening hunger, declining health and shrinking access to education and protection. This article traces the trajectory of the Rohingya crisis from 2017 to 2025, considers the consequences of dwindling aid and outlines the responsibilities of Bangladesh and the wider international community in preventing a humanitarian disaster.
During a visit to Kutupalong camp in Cox’s Bazar this year, UN High Commissioner for Refugees Filippo Grandi urged donors to maintain support and pursue solutions. Since the 2017 exodus, when almost 700,000 Rohingya fled atrocities in Myanmar, what began as an emergency has hardened into a protracted displacement. The refugees remain confined to the world’s largest camp, without legal work, freedom of movement or any realistic chance of integration. Host communities meanwhile endure environmental strain and falling incomes, breeding social tension as their numbers are overtaken by those they shelter. Myanmar’s discriminatory laws — curbing marriage, schooling, travel and religious practice for Rohingya — remain intact, and evidence of ‘ethnic cleansing’, even genocide, has yet to be addressed through genuine accountability.
Humanitarian budgets have been stretched thin by global crises from Ukraine to Afghanistan, leaving the Rohingya appeal of more than $1 billion a year competing for attention. Cuts in Washington have removed over $15 million from key services such as medical supply chains, child-protection teams and gender-violence prevention. Inflation and fiscal caution among major donors, including the UK and Germany, have meant the 2025 Joint Response Plan is only 16 per cent funded against its $934.5 million target. For food security, the WFP has been indispensable: until early 2025 each refugee received monthly coupons worth $12.50, but by April rations were close to being halved to $6 per six weeks, with a last-minute donation staving off the cut. Even so, Bangladesh faces a $173 million gap to maintain full rations through November; beyond that, food aid will simply run out.
Every reduction reverberates through the camps. When rations were previously trimmed by one-third, malnutrition soared and child mortality spiked. Present shortages are already forcing families to skip meals, pawn assets or borrow at ruinous interest, deepening hunger above emergency levels. Clinics have closed non-urgent services and disability support, depriving more than 300,000 people of prenatal care, chronic-disease treatment and mental-health support. Education and skills initiatives — covering psychosocial counselling, fire safety, first aid and other courses that nurture community leadership — are also jeopardised. Denied legal work, the Rohingya depend on dwindling charity, while competition for scarce firewood, water and health care heightens resentment among local residents. The state’s limited resources for both groups are strained, creating conditions for crime, exploitation and recruitment into trafficking networks.
Bangladesh’s interim administration, led by professor Muhammad Yunus, is contending with its own fiscal headwinds while absorbing the burden left by shrinking grants. Camps still offer no prospect of integration and long-term public spending threatens national development goals. A collapsing humanitarian response could also destabilise borders, as refugees look to poorer neighbours or attempt perilous sea journeys towards Malaysia or Indonesia. Rising violence inside the camps risks spilling into nearby villages, complicating policing and undermining diplomacy. Efforts to improve infrastructure and relocate some residents to Bhasan Char have eased pressure on the mainland, but concerns about consent and safety persist.
Professor Yunus has advocated a ‘triple nexus’ approach — linking humanitarian relief, development and peacebuilding — to help refugees and hosts towards self-reliance. To make this credible, conventional donors must recommit to WFP, UNHCR and partner NGOs so that rations and essential services are not curtailed. Creative financing — blended funds, private-sector partnerships, regional development banks — could underwrite livelihoods, steering people away from permanent dependency. At the same time, stricter oversight of international overheads and more direct channelling of resources to local NGOs would stretch scarce funds and build domestic capacity.
When UN Secretary-General António Guterres joined professor Yunus in Cox’s Bazar in March, the visit signalled a renewed push for burden-sharing among OIC, ASEAN and Gulf states. Yet current trends point towards falling support and continued displacement, inviting a cycle of despair. Unless the government and its partners act decisively — strengthening camp-based training and microfinance, and sustaining dialogue with Myanmar and its allies over repatriation — progress since 2017 may unravel, leaving Bangladesh exposed to chronic instability.
The Rohingya tragedy illustrates how forced migration is entangled with geopolitics and global resource competition. Meeting it requires resolve, inventive funding and an unflinching commitment to humanitarian principles. Without urgent, coordinated measures, eight years of hard-won gains risk erosion and the resilience of Bangladesh itself will be imperilled.
