In the parched fields of northwest Bangladesh, farmers in the Barind region are watching the foundations of rural life literally disappear underground. The earth has hardened into cracked red clay under an unforgiving sun, and the aquifers that transformed this once-arid area into a productive agricultural belt are collapsing under the combined weight of the climate crisis, erratic rainfall, and decades of intensive extraction. Recent studies show that more than 82% of the region is already under serious water stress - a statistic that sounds bad because it is.

"We have to place pipes deeper underground than before," says Ataur Rahman, a 48-year-old farmer whose family has cultivated the same land for generations. "Even after going deeper, we still don't get water like we used to." Across Barind, irrigation has become more expensive, less reliable, and increasingly contested. In some villages, tube wells barely provide sufficient drinking water during the dry season. Sreemoti Shobdorani, 40, a farmer from Tilibari, puts it bluntly: "Sometimes we pump the tube well and nothing comes out. We think maybe the motor is broken, but actually the groundwater itself has gone down."

Last year, the crisis hit a turning point when the Bangladesh government banned groundwater extraction for irrigation across nearly 5,000 villages in Rajshahi, Naogaon, Chapainawabganj, and Natore districts, declaring them "water-stressed areas" for the next decade. Under the order, groundwater can only be used for drinking - irrigation and industrial extraction are prohibited. Most farmers found this abrupt and destabilising, especially since many had already borrowed money for seeds, fertiliser, and land preparation. In January, the government quietly lifted the ban for two years, but many fear the reprieve is as brief as it is uncertain. "There is no clear roadmap for farmers," says Mohammad Shamsudduha, professor of water crisis and risk reduction at University College London. "Implementing bans without viable alternatives risks triggering a serious humanitarian and economic crisis across rural communities."

Since the 1980s, the state-run Barind Multipurpose Development Authority (BMDA) has installed about 18,000 deep tube wells across Rajshahi and Rangpur divisions, helping to expand irrigation and reshape agricultural production. The system significantly increased crop yields and allowed many farmers to cultivate year-round, but it also intensified dependence on groundwater - particularly for water-intensive boro rice. For farmers like Rahman, the contradiction is impossible to escape: without irrigation, crops fail, but continued extraction threatens the future of farming itself. "We feel bad about lifting water like this," he says. "But what option do we have? Without irrigation we cannot cultivate, and without cultivation we cannot survive."

The crisis has hit women particularly hard. Shobdorani's days begin before sunrise and stretch late into the evening as she moves between field and home - planting rice seedlings, carrying soil, caring for livestock, and raising children. "One hour of irrigation water used to cost 90 taka [55p]," she says. "Now it costs 120. Fertiliser prices have increased. Labour costs have increased. But crop production has gone down." Farmers are shifting to less water-intensive crops, but even then, irrigation remains unpredictable. Water is bought by the hour using prepaid cards connected to deep tube wells, but weakening groundwater pressure means they often receive far less water than before. "Now, even after paying more money, less water comes out," says Mohammad Asif, 27.

Many younger men have already migrated to Dhaka or other cities in search of work. Asif's greatest fear is the future his child will inherit: "By the time my son is 20 years old, the land will have changed drastically. Sometimes, I fear the struggle for water will become so brutal that people will go to war over it." A recent study by development NGO Brac, the Global Center on Adaptation, and the International Water Management Institute found that rising temperatures, declining rainfall, and expanding boro rice cultivation are pushing the region towards critical groundwater depletion within the next two decades. In response, Brac ran a pilot scheme training more than 2,400 farmers in climate-resilient agriculture and water-saving methods such as alternate wetting and drying - where rice fields are allowed to dry for a few days before being watered again, without harming the crops.

For many farmers, the answer lies not underground but above it: capturing rainwater, restoring wetlands, and rebuilding ponds capable of storing water through the dry season. "If ponds were excavated deeper, rainwater could be stored for irrigation during dry seasons," says Shobdorani. "I do not see enough effort to preserve water properly." Experts estimate that more than 2.5 million hectares (6.2 million acres) of farmland could remain uncultivated, reducing crop yields by 2.7 million tonnes. For households already struggling with rising living costs and repeated climate shocks, failed harvests could deepen debt, accelerate migration, and worsen food insecurity. The challenge facing Bangladesh is no longer simply how to conserve groundwater - it is how to do so without abandoning the farming communities who have cultivated the land for generations, and whose survival depends upon it.