An environmentalist’s quest to grow a mini cloud forest

In Dhaka, it is rare to find a green escape that makes you forget the chaos of this bustling metropolitan city. Yet, thanks to the relentless dedication of MK Alam, a serene mini cloud forest thrives in the heart of Dhanmondi Lake — offering a peaceful refuge for both residents, and numerous visiting birds.
For those unfamiliar with the concept of mini-cloud forests, it is a condensed version of the larger cloud forests, typically found in mountainous regions with consistent cloud cover. These ecosystems are known for their immense biodiversity and dense vegetation, which create a unique microclimate that is cooler and more humid than the surrounding areas.
A retired banker and philanthropist by nature, Alam took the initiative to establish this mini cloud forest many years ago.
He explains, “Roughly in 1990, with my little knowledge and understanding, I dared to establish a mini cloud forest at Dhanmondi Lake. I started with planting trees here and there. But many people took this as a nuisance rather than supporting me. They said the trees would create a breeding ground for mosquitoes.”
“However, I didn’t pay heed and continued to do what I believed in — planting trees and caring for them.”
In an urban setting like Dhaka, a mini cloud forest can serve as a vital ecological sanctuary that would support local wildlife, while also improving air quality and moderating city temperatures.
“Over the years, I’ve introduced a variety of plants, particularly medicinal ones like the Horitoki tree. The forest has also attracted rarely seen birds, such as the Indian Pond Heron, although their numbers have recently dwindled due to increased fishing activities in the lake,” Alam notes.
Despite its beauty and ecological importance, the forest’s journey is fraught with challenges. “Every year, especially in June, we plant numerous trees. Sadly, within a few months, they are often neglected,” Alam shares, highlighting the dire need for continuous care and community engagement.
“It’s overwhelming to face these challenges alone. I yearn for support, not necessarily from the government, but at least from local communities and organisations who share a similar vision,” he urges.
We need to understand that urban green spaces like this forest are not just aesthetic enhancements, but functional necessities that contribute to the health and well-being of the population.
Drawing parallels with global standards, Alam points out, “Look at Singapore, a city-state that champions public health by integrating vast green spaces into its urban planning. They understand that investing in greenery is not just about beautification — it’s about the health of their people.”
The path Alam has chosen is lonely and fraught with obstacles, but he is determined to take care of the trees for as long as he can. His environmental advocacy extends beyond the forest. In Satkhira, he established Fatic Khira S A Girls High School, providing free education and championing the inclusion of nature conservation in the curriculum.
“Our educational systems need to instil a sense of responsibility towards nature. We need to engage students and teachers alike in nurturing our environment as part of their learning,” he insists.
As Alam contemplates his retirement, his commitment remains unwavering. “What is my retirement plan? To continue championing the environment. This work gives my life purpose and grounds my identity in the collective conscience of those around me, known and unknown,” he said.
Ultimately, the mini cloud forest is not just Alam’s legacy — it is an invitation to every city dweller to reconsider their relationship with nature. It challenges Dhaka and cities worldwide to not only coexist with nature, but to embrace it as a fundamental aspect of urban life, ensuring that cities can breathe, flourish, and sustain themselves for generations to come.