Barind’s Farmers Have Bigger Worry than Water

From 11 to 13 September, I travelled through the Barind tract of Rajshahi expecting to talk about water. This is one of the most drought-prone regions of Bangladesh, where groundwater tables keep falling, and deep tubewells decide who can grow a second crop. I carried questions about irrigation, heat and the long-term threats facing our delta.

The farmers had another agenda. Whatever I asked, the conversation came back to one thing: fertiliser. Not the water under their land, not the climate over it, but a sack of Triple Superphosphate (TSP) they could not find at the government price. Their complaints were strikingly consistent. Dealers say fertiliser is out of stock. A short walk away, a shop sells the same product at a far higher price. A few farmers stated they had paid up to three times the official rate. The worst is dealers are pushing for urea sales; no urea, no TSP. 

These are not isolated stories. Reporting across the north tells the same story. In Rajshahi's Tanore, farmers said TSP was selling for Tk 1,700-1,800 per bag and Diammonium Phosphate (DAP) for around Tk 1,600, while under government-fixed rates a 50kg bag of TSP costs Tk 1,350 and DAP Tk 1,050. Elsewhere, TSP has reportedly been sold for around Tk 2,000 in the open market, and Muriate of Potash (MOP) priced at Tk 1,000 through dealers for around Tk 1,350 in outside shops.

The forced bundling I heard about in Barind has surfaced elsewhere too. In Magura, a farmer reported being denied adequate TSP and DAP unless he also bought excess urea and potash. Anger has spilled onto the roads. Around 300 farmers in Rajshahi blocked the Dhaka-Rajshahi highway for about an hour, demanding adequate supplies and action against what they called a syndicate creating an artificial shortage.

The most frustrating part is that the fertiliser exists. According to the Ministry of Agriculture, Bangladesh has 51.83 lakh tonnes of fertiliser in government stocks against projected demand of 35.20 lakh tonnes through February. Rajshahi itself has not been short-changed: the district's combined July allocation of TSP, DAP and MOP rose from 5,876 tonnes in 2025 to 7,033 tonnes in 2026.

So where does it go? Local reporting points to a familiar chain. Farmers allege that some dealers sell allocation orders to black-market traders before supplies even arrive, while others sell directly to retailers from warehouses instead of designated outlets. Poor timing made things worse. The disruption stems from the distribution chain after the government began implementing a new dealer policy during peak Aman demand. Meanwhile, around 3,759 dealer points had become vacant after dealers appointed under the previous government left their positions. Reforming the dealer system may be necessary, but doing so in the middle of the Aman season left a gap, and the syndicate filled it.

The government has acted, but modestly. Five dealership licences have been suspended and around 25 dealers fined. For a problem spread across dozens of districts, that is a warning, not a deterrent.

Beyond the price, three problems deserve attention. First, forced urea sales damage the soil. Barind soils need balanced nutrition, especially phosphorus and potassium. Excess nitrogen degrades soil health, pollutes water and releases nitrous oxide, a powerful greenhouse gas. Forcing urea on a farmer who asked for TSP should carry explicit penalties, enforced through mobile courts during peak seasons. Dealers currently receive Tk 2 per kg as commission, a rate set in 2008 that also covers carrying costs. An outdated margin invites dealers to find profit elsewhere. Revising it, alongside strict monitoring, removes one excuse for diversion. 

Second, our subsidy is leaking. Nearly 80 per cent of Bangladesh's public spending on agriculture goes into fertiliser subsidies, and the World Bank found that the wealthiest 20 per cent of landowners receive roughly half of all fertiliser subsidies, while the bottom 40 per cent receive only about 15 per cent. Every taka a farmer pays above the official price is public money captured by middlemen, not a benefit to the grower.
Third, our supply base is fragile. The seven state-run fertiliser plants have a combined capacity of more than 37 lakh tonnes but produced only 11.06 lakh tonnes, around 30 per cent of capacity, in 2025-26. That leaves us dependent on imports at a time when global fertiliser prices have almost doubled since January, from around $400 to nearly $800 a tonne. And reserves are thin: DAP reserves of 3.90 lakh tonnes have fallen below the five-lakh tonne safety threshold. Dealers should display daily stock and official prices on a public board and issue receipts linked to farmer cards. Upazila offices could publish dealer-wise stock by SMS so farmers know where fertiliser is. Over time, digital transfers to small and marginal farmers could ensure that public money reaches the people who need it most. 

Policymakers often discuss climate adaptation, water security and the Delta Plan in the language of decades. The farmers of Barind reminded me that long-term resilience begins with getting this season right. A farmer who cannot afford phosphorus today will not be thinking about groundwater tomorrow. 

The fertiliser is there. The subsidy is there. What is missing is a system that delivers both honestly to the farmer's field. Whether we admit it or not, local political muscle is stronger than ever. Through fear or favour, local leaders keep a loyal few supplied, and everyone else pays. Breaking that grip is not a technical challenge. It is a question of political will. 
_____________________________________
The writer is an Assistant Professor at the Institute of Development Studies and Sustainability (IDSS), United International University (UIU) and is an Adjunct Faculty member in the Department of Agriculture at Daffodil International University