These are the remaining food storage of Fatema Khatun and her husband, Ruhul Amin Seikh.

"I started walking from early morning. Before the sun sets, I return to our village. I walk miles after miles and sell homemade crackers. My husband died 35 years ago. My only daughter is severely ill, and her husband is bedridden too. If I can sell crackers, my family will have something to eat. I can hardly earn 100 Taka ($1.5) if I can walk the whole day. Some days I can not move, my feet get swollen, and my eyes hurt. We are not afraid of the virus, but we fear hunger" – Arati Biswas, a 70 years old widow who lives at the shore of the Bay of Bengal, doesn't know what "Climate Crisis" is and why her food storage is getting shorter day by day.

Arati Biswas sells crackers to the people living in the villages; she buys food for her family with the sale.

"We are left with one bucket of rice and some vegetables for our twenty-one members' family. Since the virus hit, we are no longer allowed to go fishing. I entered the jungle for only seven days in the last seven months. My sons are trying to work as laborers now. But there is very little work now. Our lands went into the river, with every passing year, calamities are hitting us hard. There is little drinkable water left in the area, and now the devastation of this pandemic will kill us with food scarcity. Our children are hungry all the time. When again will we be able to eat a proper meal, we do not have any idea"? – Motiar Rahman Gazi, 60 years old, has a big family to feed. But this pandemic has hit hard to this already vulnerable family in Ahsasuni at the Bay of Bengal. Their land is gone in the river, and their survival depends on their work for a living. The scientists forecasted that the seawater will drown the whole coastal belt of Bangladesh around the Sundarbans by 2050.

These are the remaining food of Motiar Rahman Gazi and his large family for the day.

"Six months ago, during cyclone Amphan I lost my cattle, all domestic animals. Since then, I have continued living in our wrecked house all alone. My children have left for the city to find a job. They could not manage to come since lockdown. I started to raise animals again and protect them all the time. The river is coming close; I might lose my destroyed home any day. I used to work at people's houses in return for food. When I could not assist anything in household chores, I went fishing. There is no work in this locality; we hardly catch fish. I have little left to eat. How am I going to survive with so much struggle? I do not know" – Helena Begum, 55 years old, lives in the Bengal Delta with her animals. She has little or almost no food left to reply on another day.

It is the only food Helena Begum has for lunch, and she still doesn't know what she and her husband will eat for dinner.

"After eleven days of cyclone Amphan, my daughter was born. We had no electricity, no food, not a drop of drinking water. My husband could not go fishing in the river for lockdown in coronavirus. Since now, my husband hardly could manage permission to enter the jungle. I got married when I was fifteen in the aftermath of another cyclone. Every year, our house has been destroyed by cyclones, tornados, or storms. We suffered terribly from drinking water as every year salinity is increasing. Now my husband and I eat once daily. During the lockdown, I hardly ate as there was no food at all. My youngest child is now six months old; she is severely underweight. What could we do? I have to first give food to my father-in-law and mother-in-law, who are in their nineties. And then I feed our children; if we have something left, my husband and I will have. There is nothing in our food storage. We have one-kilogram rice, a few onions, garlic, and vegetable leaf. This will last only today. I have nothing to cook tomorrow" – 25 years old Marzina Begum (25) lives at the shore of the Bay of Bengal

It is the only food Marzina Begum has for her family.

"My husband went fishing after ten months. Since lockdown, they could not enter the forest. He and the other four fishermen have seven days' permission to fish in the river. For another month, there will be closure. I often stand here and check the weather. My four-member family has been starving since the beginning of the pandemic. I do not have a cent in my house. My husband took some loans and managed to go fishing. He bought some rice and lentil for the family. If he gets fish, we will eat something. But after repaying loans for months, we will have little to depend on for a month. We have been surviving cyclone after cyclone. Aila, Sidr, Bulbul, Amphan; cyclones are becoming violent and frequent. Now, this virus has taken away all our hope" – Rehana Begum (38) lives with her two sons and husband at the shore of Bengal Delta.

These food storages are the remaining for Rehana Begum and her family.

"I collect firewood and sell from house to house. Most often, I get 100 takas ($1.5). I lost count of how many times the storm destroyed our house. My husband is a honey collector. Since the pandemic started, he could not be able to earn anything. My legs hurt for walking from miles to miles. But when there is no food at home and children are hungry, I continue to walk. If it continues like this, half of the inhabitants of Sundarbans will be hungry. Drinking water was scarce, and now we have no food at home. We are just dying slowly." – Jaheda Begum, 45 years old, is a mother of four children. She collects firewood and sells it in the village. Since the pandemic, her honey collector husband has been out of work.

Jaheda Begum doesn't know how she will survive with this bit of amount of food for the week.

"We are starving today. Yesterday, we finished the only food we had. My husband searched for work even though it's risky to go outside now. We heard the virus is dangerous, but we do not have any food. How can we wash our hands? I forgot when last time we ate something good. And now we do not have even half a plate of rice. If my husband does not return with food, I will go from door to door for my mother and son. Everyone is in crisis; getting a loan is impossible. Sometimes I wonder why we are suffering miserably. Our land is gone; the forest is shrinking. As far as we see, we cannot get drinkable water. Salinity will kill us someday. But until then, we have to find a way to live" – Khuku, 24 years old with her mother Khadiza, and son Mohan. The family lives with thousands of other families in the Bay of Bengal. Their land is gone in the river, and their survival depends on their work for a living.

Khuku and her family already had their lunch; she has to manage dinner food.