Clay stoves in a gas-starved city: A new livelihood born from crisis

On a hot afternoon, a group of women can be seen sitting in front of the embankment near Sheikh Jamal School in Kamrangirchar. From a distance, it might look like a casual post-lunch gathering. But a closer look reveals that they are clearing water hyacinths along the riverbank and collecting soil into large bowls. Gradually, the soil piles up into mounds.

As the collection process nears completion, several women squat down and begin shaping clay stoves. Day fades into evening, yet with mud-stained hands and careful attention, they continue their work. These stoves are not craft items. They are survival tools – for both the buyers and the makers.

Dhaka has been experiencing a severe gas shortage this winter, causing widespread hardship for residents. Cooking has turned into a daily struggle in neighbourhoods such as Hazaribagh, Lalbagh, Shyampur, Mirpur, Kamrangirchar, and Keraniganj.

At times, it takes hours to cook a pot of rice due to extremely low gas pressure. Liquefied petroleum gas (LPG) cylinders are not a viable alternative for many households, as prices have risen sharply in recent months, putting them beyond the reach of low-income families. As a result, handmade clay stoves have become a practical solution for many households amid the prolonged gas crisis.

From riverbank to kitchen

Nurjahan Begum, in her sixties, arrives at the riverbank before sunrise each day. Grey streaks frame her face, but her movements are brisk and assured.

She wades into the mud, gathers soil by hand, and carries it back to the embankment. There, she begins shaping stoves—one after another—carefully forming their mouths, bases, and air channels. The process takes hours. When finished, she arranges them in neat rows to dry under the sun.

The next morning, she starts again.

Nurjahan came to Kamrangirchar from Barishal only four months ago. She learned the trade simply by watching others. Yet stove-making here is not new; women in this area say the practice has existed for nearly a decade, resurfacing whenever fuel shortages worsen.

Traditionally, demand peaked during winter, when gas pressure tends to drop. This year, however, there is no "season" anymore. The crisis has stretched across months, and the women now work almost every day to keep up with buyers.

A small trade, a crucial income

For 25-year-old Jhumur, stove-making is a second profession born of necessity. She works primarily as a tailor, but her earnings were not enough to sustain her household. About a year ago, she joined the others on the embankment.

So far, she has sold around ten stoves of her own. "Six or seven of us are working regularly now," she says. "When sales are good, more women become interested."

The income is modest, but steady. And that makes all the difference.

Prices vary depending on size, design and durability. For instance, small stoves sell for around Tk200, medium ones for about Tk300, larger, sturdier, and well-designed stoves can fetch up to Tk500. The cheapest variety can be bought for Tk100.
Customers from different parts of the capital such as Kamrangirchar, Hazaribagh, Lalbagh, Shyampur, Keraniganj, Mirpur, Gabtoli, and other parts of Dhaka come to purchase these clay stoves. 

For families living in semi-permanent housing or areas with irregular connections, installing alternatives like electric cookers is often impractical. LPG cylinders, meanwhile, can cost more than they can afford. A clay stove, by contrast, requires only firewood, scraps, or other low-cost fuel. It is simple. It is reliable. And it works.

As for the stove makers, the days stretch long. Morning to evening is spent moulding, drying, stacking, and selling. In between, they return home to cook, clean, and care for their families.

Nurjahan says she finds dignity in the routine. "It brings some money. People benefit. And my time is not wasted," she explains. She remembers the first day she made just four stoves. They sold quickly, earning her Tk2,000. That small success anchored her to the craft.

What began as a response to hardship has grown into a micro-economy shaped by resilience. In a gas-starved Dhaka, these humble clay stoves have become more than a workaround. They are a livelihood—fired by necessity, sustained by ingenuity.