From early morning to midnight: The demanding life of ride-sharing bikers

Muntaha, a third-grade student, never sleeps until her father, Mustafa M, returns home. Although her school starts early at 7am, she waits for her father, a part-time ride-sharing motorcyclist, to come home around 11pm or midnight – just to share a meal with him before heading to bed.
Mustafa, around 50 years old, follows a demanding routine. He wakes up early for Fajr prayers, helps his daughters get ready for school and drops them off before resting for a few hours. By 8:30am, he is up again, takes a shower, has breakfast and heads to his office.
After finishing his workday, he takes his motorcycle on the roads from 6pm until late in the evening, riding for about 18-20 days each month to support his family.
In July 2022, Mustafa bought a Bajaj Pulsar motorcycle and since then he has ridden it over 36,000km. Despite his hard work, he faces constant challenges on the road. "If Dhaka roads were in good shape, my income would be at least 1.5 times higher," he said, reflecting on the difficulties caused by traffic jams, potholes, roadblocks, and unpredictable pedestrians.
Mustafa, originally from Jashore, came to Dhaka like many others in search of better job opportunities. "People don't come here by choice; they come out of necessity," he shared.
Dhaka, though crowded and polluted, offers greater job prospects compared to his hometown, where life is simpler and cheaper. However, the high cost of living in Dhaka demands a tough work ethic. His monthly expenses total nearly Tk45,000, which includes rent, food, education for his daughters, and medical costs.
Despite his sacrifices, there are moments when his work takes a toll on family time. On weekends, his daughters long for his presence, but he must sometimes work extra hours to meet financial needs. "They want me to spend at least those two days with them," he said with regret.
Mustafa holds both a bachelor's and a master's degree in political science. Initially, he felt a bit embarrassed when he first started working as a ride-sharing motorcyclist. "But after two and a half to three years, I've gotten used to it," he confessed.
He's learned that necessity often outweighs pride. "When necessity comes first, other things don't matter as much," he said.
At Mirpur 10 Circle, a popular spot for ride-sharing motorcyclists, a group of riders wait for passengers. Among them is Mamun Mollah, 32, who moved to Dhaka from Chapainawabganj after the pandemic crippled his mango business.
The transition to ride-sharing was tough. "My accent gave me away as a newcomer, and passengers took advantage of that," he recalled. After a couple of months, however, Mamun learned the city's routes and gained confidence.
He now spends 8-10 hours a day on the road, focusing on the busy morning and evening rush hours. Mamun, who has no plans of staying in this profession long-term, understands the physical toll it takes.
"You can't do this job for more than four or five years – the body doesn't hold up," he said. His goal is to save enough money and transition to a new profession.
Another rider, Hasan Ahmed, a diploma engineer, shares his frustrations. After losing his job in a real estate company, he turned to ride-sharing as a means of survival.
"Everyone blames us bikers for everything," he lamented. "But look – hawkers take over footpaths, processions block roads, yet the police do nothing. But for us? They slap a Tk2,000 fine. One fine wipes out two days of earnings."
The physical demands of the job are intense, but Hasan has learned to endure the aches and pains. "You have to be polite and stay alert at all times. The job requires patience and respect, especially when dealing with difficult passengers," he added.
Mohammad Ali, 37, used to work as an accountant for an NGO but left his comfortable desk job due to personal moral and religious beliefs. He now rides his motorcycle full-time, making a living while navigating Dhaka's harsh roads.
"Sometimes, you sit idle for two or three hours. Other times, you make Tk1,000 in just a few hours," he said, reflecting on the unpredictable nature of the job.
Mia Md Hafiz, a former sweetmaker, also joined the ranks of ride-sharing motorcyclists after developing an allergy to sweets. Despite the physically demanding work, Hafiz remains committed to it as long as his body holds up.
"There are no bosses, no one to answer to. As long as my body allows, I'll keep doing this," he said with a sense of independence.
Sabuj, 25, is a student who rides his motorcycle between classes to cover his expenses. He values the independence the job provides, even though it comes with risks.
"I've heard that criminals sometimes trick riders into isolated areas, where they are ambushed and their bikes stolen," he warned. He advised new riders to avoid risky areas, like narrow alleys and shortcuts.
Despite the challenges, many riders avoid using ride-sharing apps like Pathao or Uber, as they reduce their income due to platform commissions. "For a 7km ride, a negotiated fare can earn me at least Tk130, while Pathao offers only around Tk90," said Mohammad Ali. "I'll only use the app when I have to."
Bike riding has been a recognised profession in Dhaka for nearly 10 years. Many ride-sharing motorcyclists work part-time, while others do it full-time. Over time, it has become more accepted as an independent profession.