In the quiet district of Barguna, an extraordinary initiative is reshaping the way people think about trees, memory, and the environment. Suranjana Eco Tourism & Resort has created what locals now call a "Tree Hospital"—a sanctuary where uprooted and endangered trees find a second life instead of being reduced to stumps or firewood.

The idea began in early 2023, with a dilemma familiar to many families. When physician Dr Moniza's family had to sell part of their ancestral property and construct a new home on the remaining land, they faced the heartbreaking necessity of cutting down several trees their late parents had planted decades ago. These trees were not merely greenery; they carried the fragrance of childhood, the shade of remembered afternoons, and the stories of a family's journey.

But instead of felling them, Suranjana Eco Tourism stepped in. Using careful techniques, the team uprooted the trees and transplanted them to their eco-resort. Today, when the family visits Suranjana, they also visit their trees—still standing tall, still thriving, and still part of their lives.

Retired district judge Rokhsana Benju tells a similar story. "Due to space constraints, I had to remove several trees from my yard. But thanks to Suranjana, they're now preserved. Visiting them brings immense joy, and I feel a deep emotional connection," she said.

The project, believed to be the largest private effort in Bangladesh to preserve native trees, has quickly captured public imagination. Environmentalists, development workers, and ordinary citizens have welcomed it as an inspiring model.

At the heart of the initiative is Sohel Hafiz, founder of Suranjana Eco Tourism & Resort. His team has so far rescued and replanted more than 200 trees, many of which would have been casualties of cyclones, river erosion, road expansion, or housing projects. "There's no government mechanism to save such trees," he explained. "If they could be relocated to tree-less spaces like government campuses or along roadside strips, it would transform both our environment and our urban aesthetics."

They have also submitted a formal petition to the Ministry of Environment and Forests. The proposal calls for a law banning the cutting of any planted tree before it reaches the age of 18. Hafiz draws a striking parallel: "Just as you can't marry off a daughter before she turns 18, no one should be allowed to cut down a tree before it turns 18. This would protect families, preserve ecology, and safeguard our future."

Professor Dr Md Alamgir Kabir, chairman of the Climate-Smart Agriculture Department at Patuakhali Science and Technology University, noted: "In many countries, long-lived trees are preserved for urban beautification. But in cyclone- and erosion-prone areas like Barguna, such initiatives are not just creative—they're essential. Every district should replicate this model."

Animesh Biswas, Additional Deputy Commissioner (General) of Barguna, described Suranjana's Tree Hospital as "a unique and exemplary effort." He pointed out that the eco-resort has planted over a thousand trees, including endangered native species such as palmyra, wild olive, monkey jack, and wild almond. "It is not only preserving trees but also creating a safe haven for birds and building a vital ecological hub," he said.

The symbolism of the Tree Hospital is powerful. It shows that preserving the environment is not only about protecting forests far from human settlements—it can be about saving the tree in your backyard, the one planted by your grandparents, the one that carries memories of your childhood games.

If adopted more widely, the idea could become a cornerstone of eco-tourism across Bangladesh, combining conservation with community pride. More importantly, it challenges all of us to rethink our relationship with nature. As Suranjana's Tree Hospital shows, it is possible to build, develop, and modernise—while still letting the trees live.

Sohrab Hossain is a journalist at The Daily Star