In the coastal regions of Bangladesh, access to safe drinking water remains one of the country’s most urgent and complex development challenges. Salinity intrusion, cyclones, tidal flooding, arsenic contamination, and groundwater failure continue to affect millions of people. In response, governments and NGOs have invested heavily in rainwater harvesting systems, pond sand filters, reverse osmosis (RO) plants, and deep tube wells.

Despite decades of intervention, many projects struggle to remain functional in the long term both for technical failures and a growing culture of dependency surrounding development projects in coastal communities.

During my PhD fieldwork across coastal villages in Khulna, Satkhira, and Bagerhat, I came across an interesting pattern among the household I surveyed. Most of the respondents assumed that anyone conducting research must be connected to an NGO or aid project. Some also expected immediate benefit and asked whether I would provide rainwater harvesting tanks, financial assistance, or NGO support. Others questioned the value of sharing information if no tangible return was offered. These reactions should not simply be dismissed as opportunistic behaviour. They reveal decades of externally funded projects in ways that unintentionally weaken community ownership.

Many coastal residents have become accustomed to seeing water infrastructure as something provided, financed, repaired, and maintained entirely by outside organisations. This expectation has limited the development of local responsibility and ownership. When a system breaks, communities often wait for another NGO or government project instead of organising local repair or maintenance efforts themselves, creating sustainability problems.

For example, in Betbunia village of Paikgachha in Khulna, a reverse osmosis plant stopped functioning after a critical component was stolen, but it was not replaced. The issue was not only technical but also institutional. No local mechanism existed to protect, finance, or collectively maintain the infrastructure. At the same time, demand for rainwater harvesting tanks remains extremely high even in some areas where groundwater is naturally safe for drinking.

For instance, in Dashalia village of Koyra in Khulna, residents have access to naturally drinkable groundwater through deep tube wells. Yet, some households still demand rainwater tanks because neighbouring saline-affected villages received them free of cost through government or NGO programmes. The tank itself becomes a symbol of entitlement and development access, rather than a response to actual water vulnerability.

Ironically, many residents in saline-prone areas still prefer harvested rainwater over RO-treated water. Some believe RO water does not suit their bodies or that it tastes unnatural. Such perceptions matter and highlight a gap between technical planning and local perception because water solutions fail when communities do not trust or culturally accept them.

This shows infrastructure alone does not solve water insecurity. Social behaviour, local awareness, trust, participation, and community ownership are equally important.

For years, development interventions in coastal Bangladesh have largely followed a distribution model that goes like this: install infrastructure, deliver technology, complete the project cycle, and move on. But when communities remain passive recipients rather than active stakeholders, long-term sustainability becomes fragile.

This does not mean poor communities should be blamed for expecting assistance. Safe drinking water is a basic human right and many coastal households face severe economic hardship. Their expectations are shaped by historical experience. If aid repeatedly arrives as free distribution without local accountability mechanisms, dependency becomes a rational social response.

Therefore, future coastal water interventions must move beyond charity-driven approaches toward shared responsibility models. Communities must become co-owners of systems. Even small symbolic financial contributions, community water committees, or locally managed maintenance funds can strengthen accountability and collective ownership.

Researchers and development practitioners also need more transparent communication with communities, explaining clearly that research does not automatically bring material assistance. Most importantly, development organisations must acknowledge an uncomfortable truth: decades of aid practices have sometimes created dependency alongside assistance. The coastal water crisis is not only a technical challenge but also a social and behavioural one. Without community ownership, even expensive infrastructure can quickly become abandoned, damaged, or unsustainable.