Whispers of Water, Echoes of Hope

Kutupalong Refugee Camp, Bangladesh – Noor Ayesha sits near the doorway of her home, drawing flowers in her notebook as the steady rain falls. Behind her, her sister Noor Hasina lies still, her eyes quietly following the shape of the drawn flower.

For the first time in years, the rain doesn’t mean dread. It doesn’t mean trudging through the mud to find a toilet, fetching water from 300 feet away, or searching for clean cloth after an unexpected period. 

Today, as the rain falls outside, the girls are safe, wrapped in quiet comfort.

Here’s their journey.

“If she could speak about her pain,  
it would have given me peace.”

Noor Hasina’s eyes speak in a language only her mother, Shahjan Begum, can understand.

At 21, Noor Hasina has not spoken or moved in nearly two decades since a serious medical condition took away her ability to do so.

Wistfully, Shahjan Begum recalls the days when Hasina was three, full of energy and endlessly chatting about food. She loved mangoes.

These days, Shahjan follows a careful routine—feeding Hasina at set times and observing closely for the slightest cues—be it a glance at the plate or a flicker in her eyes, Shahjan knows.

“I always know when she’s hungry or thirsty,” says Shahjan, “I’m her mother.”

Caring for Hasina is not easy, especially during her menstrual cycles. Each time, there’s more laundry, more discomfort, and more worry throughout the day. “I have to wash her clothes again and again,” Shahjan says. “And taking her outside to use the toilet hurts us both.”

Because Hasina cannot express her pain, whether from hunger, thirst, or the struggles of her menstrual cycle, it makes the weight of care even heavier. Shahjan wishes she could understand Hasina’s suffering more clearly. “If she could speak about her pain, it would have given me peace.”

When the Water Was Too Far to Reach

17-year-old Noor Ayesha’s world is small, simple, but rich.

She wants to be a teacher when she grows up. She enjoys tutoring the younger children in her camp, sketching the flowers she knows best, and caring for her elder sister, Noor Hasina.

Hasina’s back had been curved since she was five years old, when a small lump appeared and slowly changed the shape of her spine. Over time, it became difficult for her to sleep, lifting things became tougher and even water, something so basic, felt out of reach.

The path to clean water stretched over 300 feet, across rough, uneven ground. Most days, she had to rely on someone else for help. But Noor Ayesha was never one to wait—she never wanted the world around her to shrink like this.

But when water becomes a long, arduous journey, freedom begins to feel far away.

And then, something changed.

Building a World on Dignity and Hope

A quiet but meaningful change began to take root, with the support of UNICEF and its partners. 

A disability-inclusive latrine was installed directly inside their shelter. No more walking through slippery paths. No more lifting Hasina across long distances. The facility was designed with their reality in mind, with gentle steps, secure handholds, and a sense of privacy.

Next arrived, water.

A tap stand was set up just a few steps from their home. Now, instead of walking 300 feet, they only need to turn the handle to get water. They also received two jerry cans with secure caps, giving them better control over their use of water. Additionally, they also received hygiene kits, designed for people with specific care needs.

For Shahjan, this included a Menstrual Hygiene Management (MHM) kit, complete with reusable pads, underwear, and laundry soap, that changed the way she cared for Hasina during her cycle. Ayesha no longer has to deal with emergency washes either. Alongside, guidance was provided by a volunteer who understood their needs. Hygiene volunteer Sajeda Alam regularly visits Shahjan and her daughters, serving as an important link to the services they depend on.

On Ordinary Days Too

Before, their days were defined by what they couldn’t do. Today, the smallest choices feel like freedom returned.

Ayesha can fetch water without the fear of falling. Hasina rests in comfort and dignity. And Shahjan, for the first time in years, can breathe between tasks.

Water is near. Cleanliness is possible. That too, every day, not just on good days. And the weight of care, once shouldered in silence, is now shared.

UNICEF wishes to express sincere gratitude to the German Federal Foreign Office for their continued support and invaluable contribution to the well-being of refugee children and their families in Bangladesh.