Feni Flood Relief

[4L5A]

Amateur Radio Operators Play Critical Role in Feni Flood Relief Efforts Feni, August 28, 2024 — In the wake of a sudden and devastating flood that struck Feni on August 19, amateur radio operators—often known as "hams"—stepped in to provide vital communication support, coordinating rescue and relief efforts across the flood-ravaged district. Among those affected by the disaster was Dr. Asif, an amateur radio operator who found himself trapped by the rapidly rising waters. Unable to reach emergency services, Dr. Asif used his radio to contact fellow operators in Dhaka, sparking a widespread response from the amateur radio community. "We couldn’t get to him immediately," said Abdullah Al Fahad (S21AF), who led the operation from Dhaka. "But Asif kept us informed about the flood situation in Feni, and we knew we had to act quickly." With traditional communication networks down, amateur radio operators mobilized to fill the gap. Using their own funds and equipment, they set up a network that became the backbone of the relief operation. On August 22, Fahad and his team established the first base station on the rooftop of a 15-story building in Feni, alongside a control room at the Deputy Commissioner’s (DC) office. The initial response team included operators Sabbir Hossain, Mob Jihad, and Monirujjaman Rifat, with Zihad coordinating closely with the DC office. By the following day, additional operators, including Sunny, Mutammim Mahmud Asif, and Dr. Dipto, along with a team of medical students from the 'Platform for Doctors and Medical Students' community, joined the effort. They extended the network by setting up stations at the Mohipal Army Camp and a temporary Army Medical Camp, allowing for seamless communication between the DC office, the army, and field rescue teams. "In Dhaka, we set up a base at the Kakrail Scout HQ and another at my home in Demra," Fahad explained. "Although I could only send information one way, the team in Feni could hear me. I kept sending details about people in need, which helped the Army and the DC office deploy resources effectively." As the floodwaters disrupted the Army’s communication systems, the amateur radio network became essential for coordinating rescue missions. Radio operators accompanied Army rescue boats to maintain communication with the Feni control room, ensuring updates were relayed every 30 minutes. To conserve power, the radio equipment was switched off between transmissions. For the first four days, the operators worked tirelessly, maintaining communication across a 70-kilometer radius and facilitating over 375 rescue operations in remote areas like Parshuram and Phulgazi. "We were the only link between the rescue units and the control room," Fahad noted. "Without our network, the situation would have been much worse." The effort was a community-driven initiative, involving a diverse group of volunteers, including scout members, Red Crescent volunteers, doctors, engineers, and university students. The response began with a conversation in a social media group, quickly evolving into a coordinated relief operation. Despite challenges such as the limited number of radio devices permitted by BTRC and the high cost of importing equipment, the amateur radio operators successfully managed the crisis. Fahad emphasized the need for more accessible policies to enhance their capacity for future emergencies. As communication is gradually restored in Feni, the amateur radio network’s role in the flood response is being hailed as a critical lifeline. Their efforts are ongoing, with operators now assisting in the worsening flood situation in Noakhali. "Even though we weren’t under any official banner, just a group of friends doing what we could, we made a real difference," said Fahad. "And if the need arises again, we’ll be ready to do it all over."

[4L5A]

A Story of Hope and Ham Radio The Floods of Feni, Bangladesh: A Story of Hope and Ham Radio. When the floodwaters began to rise in Feni on August 19, it felt like the world had turned upside down. The usual hum of life in the district was swallowed by the sudden and unprecedented deluge, plunging the entire area into chaos. Communication lines went down, isolating everyone caught in the disaster. Amidst the turmoil, one of our own, Dr. Asif, found himself trapped by the encroaching waters. Asif is not just any man—he’s a ham radio operator like me callsign S21NWR. And in that moment of crisis, he did what any of us would do: he reached out. His call for help didn’t go to emergency services or government agencies, but to his fellow amateur radio operators in Dhaka. “We’re cut off,” he told us, his voice steady despite the growing danger. “I need your help to get the word out.” But we couldn’t reach him immediately. The roads were gone, and the waters kept rising. All we had was our radios, and so, from hundreds of kilometers away, Asif kept us updated on the situation in Feni. He told us how the flood was tearing through the district, leaving destruction in its wake. We knew we had to act. The decision was made quickly. Using our own funds and resources, we began coordinating a response. This wasn’t just a matter of helping Asif—this was about helping everyone caught in the flood. Traditional networks were down, so we, the amateur radio operators, had to fill that void. It was our duty. On the evening of August 22, we established our first base station on the rooftop of Tara Nibas, a 15-story building in Feni. I remember looking out over the flooded streets below and feeling a deep sense of urgency. We also set up a control room at the Deputy Commissioner’s office. That same night, at 9 PM, our first team—Sabbir Hossain S21ACP, Mob Jihad S21MOB, and Monirujjaman Rifat S21AIG—arrived to help. Fahim, another dedicated operator, took charge of coordinating with the DC’s office to make sure everything ran smoothly. By the next day, more operators had joined us, including Sunny S21TE, Mutammim Mahmud Asif S21NN, and Dr. Dipto S21HK, who brought along a team of medical students from the ‘Platform for Doctors and Medical Students’ community. Together, we extended our network further, setting up stations at the Mohipal Army Camp and a temporary Army Medical Camp. We knew time was against us, and every second counted. In Dhaka, we established a base at the Kakrail Scout HQ and another at my home in Demra. I couldn’t be at the scout office all the time, so having a station at home meant I could stay involved around the clock. The only catch was that I could only communicate one way—I couldn’t hear back from the team in Feni. But on the rooftop of that 15-story building, they managed to pick up my transmissions. They confirmed they could hear me, so I kept sending updates and information about people in need. Every bit of information I relayed helped the Army and the DC office direct their resources more effectively. As the flood raged on, our network became the lifeline for the entire region. The Army’s communication systems had been damaged by the flood, so they relied on us to keep in touch with their teams in the field. Every rescue boat deployed to the most distant and dangerous locations had one of our operators on board, maintaining a constant line of communication with the Feni control room. We had to conserve power, so after establishing contact every 30 minutes, we’d switch off our devices to save battery life. But we never lost that connection. At the DC office, there was a constant hum of activity. For the first four days, our team worked non-stop—24 hours a day—coordinating rescue efforts and relaying crucial information. Our work helped facilitate over 375 rescue missions across some of the most remote and difficult-to-reach areas like Parshuram and Phulgazi. Over a 70-kilometer radius, our amateur radio network was the only link between the different rescue units and the control room. Without us, the situation would have been far worse. But it wasn’t just me or any single person leading this effort. It was a community—a group of individuals from all walks of life, connected by our shared love of radio. We had scout members, Red Crescent volunteers, doctors, engineers, university students—people from all over the country. Many of us were connected through informal communities on social media, and when the time came, we mobilized like a well-oiled machine. It all started with a conversation in a Messenger group. A few of us who had received the Amateur Radio Service Certificate began discussing the situation. Under my coordination, along with Sunny and Asif, we devised a plan. “Feni will be our focus,” we decided. We talked about who could go, what equipment we had, and what steps we needed to take. Despite the challenges—like the limited number of radio devices allowed by BTRC and the high cost of importing equipment—we pushed forward. We were the first responders, the ones who kept the lines of communication open when everything else had failed. Looking back, I’m proud of what we accomplished. But it wasn’t just about the technology or the radios. It was about people. We weren’t operating under any official banner; we were just a group of friends, and friends of friends, doing what we could to help. And if we had to do it all over again, we wouldn’t hesitate for a second. Now, as communication slowly returns to Feni and the floodwaters begin to recede, I can’t help but think of the next crisis. Because if there’s one thing we’ve learned, it’s that when disaster strikes, we hams will be ready—ready to do whatever it takes to keep people connected and to help those in need. Even now, as the situation worsens in Noakhali, four of our members are there, extending our network, doing what we do best. And I know that no matter what comes next, we’ll rise to the challenge—because that’s what it means to be an amateur radio operator. Abdullah Al Fahad, S21AF.