Dignity can't wait

Sanitation*: beyond the missed targets

Our CEO, Jo, reflects on the state of sanitation as we approach the Sustainable Development Goals 2030 deadline.

The latest Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) progress report has landed, and it makes for sobering reading. We are not on track.

3.4 billion people still lack safely managed sanitation. 1.7 billion don’t have access to basic hygiene services at home. 427 million children go to schools without toilets or handwashing facilities. To reach universal coverage by 2030, the World Health Organization warns that progress would need to quadruple.

In Bangladesh, more than 23 million lack basic sanitation. Almost three out of ten children are living in multidimensional poverty without decent housing — housing that should protect and provide. These figures are vast. But they are also deeply personal. In the rural northwest region where AzuKo works, women and girls carry the weight of this crisis: missed schooling during menstruation, illness from waterborne diseases, the constant risks of finding a safe space to go to the toilet.

We say our work is about housing, but it always comes back to the basics — a toilet, a tap, a safe place to wash.

I recently attended the Sustainable Sanitation Alliance meeting and World Water Week conference in Stockholm. Sitting among policy makers, engineers, activists, and community leaders the conversations circled the same hard truth: we will not reach the targets by 2030. Yet there was no sense of defeatism. Instead, there was urgency and questioning — what comes next?

35th SuSanA Meeting © GIZ GmbH / Ashley Perl

Again and again, the answers pointed to women. For too long, sanitation systems have been designed for communities, but not by them — and certainly not by women. And yet, it is women who manage households, and who suffer most when sanitation systems fail. When women are truly involved in decision-making, financing and building, entire communities are lifted. Their insights bring new perspectives on safety, privacy, dignity, and menstrual hygiene — and how to design effective sanitation systems to address these challenges.

Conversations also emphasised how sanitation must adapt to the climate crisis. In Bangladesh, rising seas, salt-contaminated water, floods, cyclones and heatwaves are not abstract theories. They are here, and they are disproportionately affecting the poorest in society. Sanitation must be climate-resilient — not just functional for today, but able to withstand tomorrow.

And while policy makers debate, communities are already leading. Sanitation systems that endure are those rooted in local skills and knowledge. When communities drive development, systems are maintained and replicated.

Governments and funders face a choice. Sanitation is too often treated as a niche. But it’s not niche — it is central. If you say you care about climate adaptation, you must care about sanitation: floods destroy toilets and contaminate water sources. If you say you care about girls’ education, you must care about sanitation: a girl cannot stay in school without a private toilet. If you say you care about women’s empowerment, you must care about sanitation: equality cannot be claimed while 84% still report harassment in public spaces, and the simple act of using a toilet exposes them to risk.

Only a quarter of countries are on track to achieve their sanitation targets. Two-thirds spend less than half of what is needed to meet these targets. Globally, aid is being squeezed — redirected to defence, geopolitical conflicts, and climate mitigation. All urgent, all necessary. But every time sanitation slips further down the list, it is women and girls who pay the price.

Cutting funding for sanitation is not neutral. It’s a decision to accept that women and girls will continue to live without safety, without dignity, without opportunity.

Funding sanitation is not charity — it is justice. And justice demands more than infrastructure. It requires capacity building, systems that last, behaviour change, and above all, leadership by women.

At AzuKo, we see this daily. Toilets co-designed by women are safer, better maintained, and used with pride. A water point closer to home is not simply convenience — it is hours freed each day. Hours that restore choice.

Beyond 2030?

For AzuKo it means continuing to integrate water, sanitation and hygiene into everything we do — not as an add-on to housing, but as the very foundation of a decent life. When I think of the future we are building, I don’t see numbers. I see a girl who stays in school. A mother living in good health. A grandmother who no longer fears searching for a place to go to the toilet at night.

That is progress worth fighting for.

I’m grateful for the chance to share these perspectives in Stockholm. But the real leadership is not in these conference halls. It is in the homesteads of rural Bangladesh, where women are already shaping a more dignified future — one toilet at a time.

 

Read about AzuKo’s work delivering Decent toilets →

* Sanitation refers to the provision of facilities and services for the safe disposal of human urine and faeces.

DATA SOURCES

Thoughts on World Humanitarian Day

Raymond Lopinski is a Trustee at AzuKo, and engineer by training. He brings deep expertise in human-centric design, systems thinking and sustainable development, and is passionate about using technical skills to empower communities and drive social impact.

  • Tell us a bit about yourself and your professional background …

    I am an engineer by training and have spent my career in Corporate Services planning, developing and operating office expansions and campus’ for Fortune 500 companies globally. Through this, I have gained a deep appreciation on how human-centric designed environments can empower people and communities to be more participatory, resilient and prosperous, and transform lives.

Trustee, Raymond Lopinski
  • You’ve worked across more than 20 countries. What first drew you to humanitarian and community-focused work?

    Working in such diverse cultures and industries, I realised that success hinges on prioritising people — their needs, productivity and collective well-being. This perspective aligns closely with humanitarian principles: designing for people and communities has a transformative impact for all, and can boost entire economies.

  • World Humanitarian Day celebrates the people who help others in times of crisis. What does the word ‘humanitarian’ mean to you personally?

    I believe all technical, all professional work shapes lives, so should inherently be humanitarian. Whether designing infrastructure, buildings or financial systems, success and value are defined by how it improves lives. To me, ‘humanitarian’ means that your decisions are driven by the impact on people and communities leading to increased value and positive systemic change.

  • How did you first connect with AzuKo, and what inspired you to join the board as a Trustee?

    I discovered AzuKo through their collaboration with Engineers Without Borders UK. What stood out was their undertaking to not just solve the immediate problem. Co-designing with the community, understanding their problems and teaching them how to process their individual needs equips them with lasting skills and sustainable purpose-fit solutions. This commitment resonated deeply with my belief in sustainable, regenerative, effective solutions.

  • From your perspective, what makes AzuKo’s approach to community-led design distinctive and impactful?

    In my work, I’ve seen how community-oriented design leads to more successful, sustainable and economical outcomes. AzuKo exemplifies this by proving that the ‘right’ solution — one co-created with communities — is often more meaningful, impactful and cost effective than conventional approaches.

Involving the community reduces failure rates, accelerates adoption, reduces costs and makes for a higher valued, successful environment — a competitive advantage.
  • Is there a particular AzuKo project or story that has stayed with you or changed how you view development work?

    The amazing work being done in Bangladesh. By training women in data gathering, technical and financial skills, AzuKo sparks a ripple effect — empowering them to uplift entire communities. It’s a powerful model for regenerative development. AzuKo delivers holistic solutions for change.

Women changemakers in Bangladesh
Community space planning workshop
  • From your experience, what role do technical professionals, like engineers, designers or architects, play in creating more just and resilient communities?

    All professionals have a responsibility to apply their skills through a humanitarian/people lens. Professionals are not neutral. Every decision either includes or excludes someone. The same budget can build sterile structures or resilient, sustainable communities. The difference is in how you guide the process, bring diverse disciplines and views together to co-create. Community partnership isn’t just ethical, it is more efficient, effective and adds value.

  • Working in the corporate sector as well as nonprofits, how do you think these two worlds can better collaborate to tackle global challenges?

    The corporate sector is increasingly recognising that long-term success depends on serving all stakeholders; employees, customers, and communities, alongside shareholders. Nonprofits can help bridge gaps by sharing on-the-ground insights and a more holistic view, while companies bring scale, innovation and funding. Together, they can create solutions that are both impactful and sustainable. Tackling the global challenges creates value, differentiation, expands to new market… everything a company needs to succeed. It creates a high ROI (return on investment) and has a systemic impact. These two worlds are interlinked, not separate.

  • What advice would you give to professionals who want to use their skills for social good but don’t know where to start?

    You start by NOT being quiet — speak out. Most technical focused professionals are analytical and introverts so speaking out, talking to people, understanding their context is sometimes a challenge. Get outside of your technical/specialist bubble to understand the interconnectivity of what you do and the impact on other elements of society. Advocate for sustainable solutions in your current role — whether in meetings, projects, or client work. ‘Unintended consequences’ are minimised when we break down silos and co-design. Volunteering is another great way to learn from communities directly. The more we listen, the better we can align technical expertise with real needs.

The more you listen to people, understand people — the better professional you will be.
  • What gives you hope? What are you optimistic about when you look at the future of humanitarian and development work?

    While challenges like shrinking social programmes are real, I’m encouraged by the growing understanding that social responsibility isn’t optional — it’s foundational to increased returns and long-term success. If more businesses embed these principles into their core operations (every product and service they deliver), this will create sustainable value for them and we’ll see communities thrive in ways that benefits everyone. Human-centric design is a huge competitive advantage.

Learn more about AzuKo’s human-centric work

Amena's kitchen of hope

Sitting down with Amena in her home, the first thing we notice is how alive the place feels.

Strings of onions hang in neat clusters from the roof. Garlic dries on the floor. In one corner, a mound of potatoes waits for market; in another, a sewing machine stands ready for work. The walls are patched with colourful landscapes cut from old calendars, bringing the world indoors. Every inch of space is used with care and purpose.

Tailoring, a vital source of income

Amena lives in a village in rural northwest Bangladesh with her two sons. She’s a skilled tailor, making clothes for her family and selling salwar kameez to her neighbours. Her community is a close-knit mix of Hindu and Muslim families who celebrate together and look out for each other. Most earn their living as agricultural day labourers — a life of hard work for little pay.

All around the village, tall chimneys from brick factories rise above the fields. These traditional, outdated kilns burn coal and wood, releasing thick black smoke into the air. The pollution damages crops, contaminates soil, and worsens the already fragile climate. Farmers like Amena struggle to grow staples such as rice because the falling ash and poor air quality damage the plants before they can mature.

Amena’s life has been shaped by loss and resilience. In 2017, while she was in the capital Dhaka receiving treatment for cancer, floods swept through her village, destroying her home. They rebuilt what they could, but their house remained fragile. Then, in 2021, tragedy struck again — Amena’s husband died, taking with him not only her life partner but the family’s main source of income. She sold everything she could — belongings, animals, land — just to survive.

I had no financial support at the time. I learned if I have to do something, I can stand by myself. I just need the opportunity.
Amena’s previous cooking space
Amena and her new improved kitchen

That opportunity came when Amena joined AzuKo’s construction training. Using her new skills, she has built a stronger, safer kitchen — one that has transformed her daily life. She invested 6,000 BDT (£53) of her own money into the project, determined to contribute to her family’s future.

Her new kitchen is a far cry from the crumbling, smoky space she once cooked in. It now has solid foundations, crossbracing, and strong joints. There’s an electric stove, lights to cook under at night, a water station, and room to gather.

It’s the heart of the home — a place to talk, do homework, share meals and welcome guests.

Gone are the days of collecting firewood, breathing in smoke, and preparing meals on an unhygienic earth floor. Cooking is easier, faster, and safer. Amena now has more time to spend with her children and on her land, where she raises cows and chickens, and harvests rice and corn.

A dedicated space for washing and food preparation
Homework underway in the kitchen
Bamboo crossbracing

She has also joined a women’s savings group, supported by AzuKo. Every month, she puts aside a small amount, knowing she can access a low-interest loan if disaster strikes again. This safety net has given her peace of mind for the first time in years.

Amena’s dream is simple yet powerful,

I can’t dream for myself — only for my children. I want them to get a good education and have a better life.

She hopes one day to buy her own land and build a new, forever home, using everything she’s learned.

With your support, more women like Amena can turn hardship into hope. Give what you can, today →