One afternoon earlier this year, Mridula collapsed on the floor of the Dhaka garment factory where she works, overcome by dizziness in the heat. The 20-year-old sewing operator, who works at a factory in Mirpur, northwest Dhaka, said summer heat often leaves her restless and “physically uncomfortable.” “The heat can be very difficult to tolerate,” said Mridula, a pseudonym. Co-workers with high blood pressure seem to struggle even more during the hotter months, she has noticed. After she collapsed, she was taken to the factory’s medical room. She said the doctor told her to rest, then sent her home. “He gave me leave from work,” she said. Mridula was eventually diagnosed with jaundice, which can be exacerbated by dehydration and physical exertion. As temperatures climb, heat is becoming a serious concern for Bangladesh’s garment industry. Dhaka’s summers are setting new records. On April 15, 2023, the city reached 40.6°Celsius (105° Fahrenheit), then its highest temperature in decades, according to World Weather Attribution. Then, the following year, the country sweltered through a heat wave that lasted 30 days without a break. A 2025 report by the World Bank shows that Bangladesh’s maximum temperature has risen about 1.1°C (about 2°F) since 1980. Meanwhile, researchers are increasingly concerned about the health and economic consequences of rising temperatures, particularly for workers exposed to prolonged heat. For Bangladesh’s 4.2 million garment workers, approximately 60% of whom are women, who work indoors, rising temperatures raise urgent questions about occupational health and workplace safety. Factory workers operate…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Anna Fatuma is a 31-year-old woman who runs a kibandaski in Tumboni village, Kitui county in eastern Kenya. Kibandaski is Kenyan urban slang for an affordable, open-air urban eatery, often a small shack made of iron sheets, 3-ply wood or canvas. They are popular with low-income customers. Inside, smoke from firewood beneath simmering pots hangs in the air, while dark stains from settled soot mark the walls around cooking areas. The heat from the food, the smoke and the cramped space make the kibandaski humid and uncomfortable. Fatuma’s kibandaski is one of these small roadside eateries. She opens every day at 6 a.m., cooking and serving meals until about 8:30 p.m. The most expensive meal on her menu costs 250 Kenyan shillings, about $2. She started the business in 2024, hoping it would improve her financial situation and that of her husband, Sam. “Cooking gas is expensive. I can’t afford to buy and use it here,” she says. “Kuni, firewood is easier to find and cheaper to use. Charcoal is my preferred option, though it is expensive.” Fatuma often collects the firewood herself. The work leaves her with a persistent backache. On some days, she pays someone to collect it so she can arrive early enough to open the “hotel,” as she calls it. “Kamgongo kanauma. My back aches,” she says. “Paying someone to collect firewood isn’t ideal, but sometimes I am forced to. It’s also to make sure I open the hotel early.” Her routine might seem far removed…This article was originally published on Mongabay