Hatching hope with ducklings: Inside rural Bangladesh’s low-tech poultry revolution
Producing millions of ducklings each month, a traditional, electricity-free hatching method has turned struggling households into profitable, self-reliant hatcheries across Netrokona, Sunamganj and Habiganj
Inside a modest tin-roofed hatchery in the village of Kothurikona in Netrokona's Madan upazila, 42-year-old Yasin Mia carefully lifts a mattress covering a row of wooden racks.
"These are today's batch; we call it the art of hatching life," he says with a smile, holding the newly hatched ducklings nestled in the warmth of rice husk and heat from a kerosene lantern.
Yasin's journey into this "art" began with desperation. "There was a time when feeding my seven-member family felt impossible," he recalls.
But a suggestion from his elder brother changed everything: hatching ducklings using the traditional rice husk method. "I bought 1,000 eggs, followed what he taught me, and somehow, it worked."
Today, he hatches over 150,000 ducklings every month and trains farmers across borders — from Meghalaya to Nepal.
This is not only a success for Yasin and his fellow villagers, but rather it is a revolution in the haor lowlands of Bangladesh, where hundreds of families are turning to indigenous rice husk incubators as a low-cost, electricity-free alternative to commercial machines for hatching millions of ducklings each month.
It is an innovation that is not just transforming rural livelihoods but also reshaping the economics of poultry farming in the floodplains of Netrokona, Habiganj and Sunamganj.
Hacking the hatching process
While natural incubation relies on the hen's instincts, requires less technical management, and is suitable for small-scale or heritage breed preservation, commercial incubation allows for controlled conditions, higher hatch rates and the ability to incubate large quantities.
The process is very simple but requires precision, discipline and generational knowledge.
First, hatchery owners collect fertilised eggs, usually aged between five and seven days, and clean them with water before drying them in the sun.
"We place them in earthen or brick-built rooms in a bamboo-made paddy granary," Yasin explains. "The granaries are surrounded by rice husks and are covered with thick cloth or mattresses. Rice husk surroundings and mattresses keep the temperature inside in control. We light the kerosene lanterns and keep them inside the chamber for four hours first, and after four hours, we take the lanterns out and put the eggs in for four hours. We do this in rotation for 18 days."
In Sunamganj, most of us are farmers who could not afford commercial hatcheries. But with rice husks and a bit of training, I turned a room in my home into a hatchery. I now produce around 1,100 ducklings a month.
After 18 days in the initial phase, the eggs are transferred to a hatching bed covered with mattresses for 12 days. Every step is closely monitored.
"On day 25, we check the eggs with a torchlight to remove the rotten ones. By day 28 or 30, most ducklings hatch," he adds.
In Kothurikona alone, more than 180 families have adopted this process full-time. The village, now dubbed "Hatchery Palli" by locals, produces a staggering 80,000 to 90,000 ducklings daily.
The breeds range from Indian Runner and Beijing to the popular Khaki Campbell and Jin Ding. Both Khaki Campbell and Jin Ding are known as "kings of eggs" for their high productivity and are the most desirable breeds.
Research by the Poultry Production Research Division of the Bangladesh Livestock Research Institute in Baniachang upazila of Habiganj shows that each household sets an average of 10,125 eggs per month, achieving a 70% hatchability rate and producing around 7,088 ducklings.
The financials are equally compelling: with a monthly operating cost of Tk110,666, including the cost of eggs, rice husk, and other expenses, households earn approximately Tk177,200 by selling the ducklings at Tk25 each, resulting in a net profit of Tk66,534 and a 60% profit margin.
This rice husk-based model is particularly suited to haor regions, where frequent power outages and the high cost of commercial incubators make electric solutions impractical.
But there are seasonal fluctuations; egg prices rise to Tk11.5 and ducklings fetch Tk26 in late winter, and drop to Tk9.5 and Tk24, respectively, in the rainy season. The profitability remains strong and consistent though.
Another study by the Department of Poultry Science at Sylhet Agricultural University examined similar hatcheries in Sunamganj district and found consistent success across different farm sizes.
Small farms, incubating around 1,256 eggs per month, earn an average profit of Tk9,753, while medium farms handling 1,727 eggs make around Tk13,667. Large farms, setting approximately 4,561 eggs monthly, generate a profit of Tk14,346.
Although large farms earn more in absolute terms, small and medium-sized operations enjoy higher profit margins — up to 71.5% — due to lower operational costs and the ability to sell ducklings at higher per-unit prices.
"In Sunamganj, most of us are farmers who could not afford commercial hatcheries," says Rabeya Akter, a hatchery owner in Derai upazila. "But with rice husks and a bit of training, I turned a room in my home into a hatchery. I now produce around 1,100 ducklings a month."
Her story reflects a broader trend in the region, where women, often excluded from formal employment, are becoming entrepreneurs through low-cost hatchery ventures. "This is not just a business, it's independence," she added.
Further south in Habiganj's Baniachang upazila, 37-year-old Abdur Razzak began his hatchery operation with a mere 800 eggs and a borrowed lantern. "I saw this on TV and thought, why not try?" he says. Today, Razzak operates a medium-sized farm, producing over 1,100 ducklings each month.
Backed by the findings of the Livestock Research Institute, the district's hatcheries now produce hundreds of thousands of ducklings monthly. "The demand is crazy. People from Cumilla, Barishal, and even Chattogram call me every week for delivery," Razzak says.
Poverty to prosperity
Yasin's story is no longer an exception. Since the late 1990s, when the rice husk and kerosene-based incubation method was first introduced in Kothurikona, transformation in the village has been remarkable.
Once struggling to afford three meals a day, Yasin is now a certified trainer recognised by the Bangladesh Livestock Research Institute and India's Meghalaya Basin Development Authority, with a brick house and land of his own.
Kothurikona now produces over one million ducklings each week, supplying markets across the country. Approximately 85% of the village's population is now economically self-reliant through hatchery-based livelihoods, generating an estimated Tk2 crore in monthly revenue from the sale of day-old ducklings.
The socio-economic effects are clear. "Hatcheries have reduced youth migration. Boys who once left for Dhaka in search of menial jobs now stay back to run family hatcheries," Yasin said.
Women, too, are increasingly engaged in key roles such as cleaning eggs, sorting, and managing the incubation process.
Infertile eggs, which once went to waste, are now sold for consumption, adding up to Tk6,932 per month to family incomes in Sunamganj farms. And while commercial hatcheries remain dominant in cities, rural farmers are proving that sustainability and success can go hand-in-hand with tradition.
While the government has taken notice, sending teams to study and recommend improvements, support is still limited. Most hatchery owners fund their operations out of pocket or through informal loans.
"If we had access to low-interest loans and basic training, we could double production," says Razzak.
Nevertheless, the rice husk revolution continues to crack open new possibilities, egg by egg, hatchling by hatchling. And in villages like Kothurikona, what started as an act of survival has now become a symbol of rural resilience, ingenuity and hope.
