While scaffolding still rises over Dhaka’s 26 officially designated cattle haats, a different story is unfolding behind the high walls of the capital’s private agro farms.
With Eid-ul-Adha approaching, wealthy buyers are finalising purchases in discreet visits to farms in Beribandh, Mohammadpur, Basila and Gabtoli, but none would able to know it talking to the sellers.
This year, silence is the new sales strategy.
A field visit to the Beribandh, Mohammadpur, Basila, and Gabtoli belts on Thursday and Friday revealed a striking contrast: a crush of luxury cars parked outside farm gates, set against a backdrop of uncharacteristic silence from the owners.
In a sharp U-turn from previous years, these high-end traders – once famous for their loud, high-octane marketing of “upper-class” and “highly educated” breeds – have retreated into a “no comments” policy, choosing to conduct their lucrative business well under the radar.
This sudden modesty is no accident; it is a defensive crouch born of recent notoriety.
The shadow of 2024 looms large, particularly the scandal involving Sadiq Agro, which sparked a national firestorm after selling a “high-breed” goat for a staggering Tk15 lakh. That deal ended in disaster: the buyer went into hiding, the goat’s pedigree was debunked by investigators as a fraud, and the farm found itself embroiled in allegations of land grabbing and money laundering.
Haunted by the twin spectres of law enforcement and extortionists, this year’s sellers are playing it safe, swapping their “high-breed” boasts for humble claims of stocking only standard Deshal and Shahiwal cattle.
The disconnect between corporate narrative and boots-on-the-ground reality is palpable. At Sadiq Agro, manager Md Nesar Uddin painted a bleak picture for TIMES of Bangladesh, citing a sluggish economy and claiming only a handful of sales from a small herd.
However, the view from the paddock told a different story. To the eyes of a prospective buyer, the farm appeared to house at least 150 cattle, the vast majority of which were already marked as “sold” or “booked.”
While staff officially quoted prices between Tk80,000 and Tk6,00,000, the actual negotiations were ushered behind closed doors, away from the prying eyes of the press and the public.
Even at Al Madina Cattle Farm, where the scale of operations is massive, the atmosphere remains guarded. Manager Rajib Ahmed confirmed they have prepared over 350 animals, with some heavyweight specimens tipping the scales at over 1,000kg and commanding prices upwards of Tk22 lakh.
Yet, even as they celebrate the sale of “Samrat”, a gargantuan Shahiwal bull that fetched a king’s ransom, the farm remains adamant that the final figures remain off the record.
In Dhaka’s high-stakes cattle market, it seems that wealth is still flowing, but this year, it prefers to move in the shadows.
The manager of Al Madina Cattle Farm pointed out that transparency often brings trouble. “Disclosing prices creates complications,” he explained, noting that many high-end buyers now insist on total discretion to avoid the scrutiny that has plagued both traders and customers in recent seasons.
Despite the secrecy, business is brisk; the farm boasts an exotic roster ranging from Thai white buffaloes and Nepali breeds to Brahma and Shahiwal crosses.
Having cleared over 300 head of cattle last Eid, the staff are confident of a repeat performance, though they noted that the market for smaller, more affordable cows has already peaked, with stock virtually exhausted.
Across in Gabtali, Evoke Agro is showcasing a diverse collection of some 150 domestic and cross-bred cattle, including the Hasa-Ulbari and Kankaraj.
According to owner Humayun Kabir Sohel, who also operates farms in Nilphamari and Chuadanga, 80 per cent of his stock is already spoken for.
While medium-sized cows fetching between Tk6,00,000 and Tk8,00,000 remain his primary earners, the farm also does a steady trade in garols, a variety of lamb, which sell for up to Tk55,000 each.
For the true heavyweights, however, the price tag is a matter of private negotiation, determined not by the scales, but by the animal’s “outlook,” colour, and aesthetic appeal.
The digital marketplace is also driving physical footfall.
Fazlur Rahman, a buyer from Dhanmondi, was drawn to Evoke Agro specifically to hunt down a majestic, big-horned Kankaraj bull he had first spotted in an online video.
This pattern of pre-booked success continues at smaller outfits like Dudhder Bari Agro and Anwara Agro in Mohammadpur.
Here, the focus is on indigenous and cross-bred cattle, with prices starting at a baseline of Tk80,000. Most of their inventory is already marked with “sold” tags, reflecting a robust demand that belies the nervous atmosphere.
Yet, there is a lingering tension beneath the surface. When asked why they remained so guarded despite the healthy sales, the staff at Dudhder Bari Agro offered only uneasy laughter.
Their reticence stems from a deep-seated anxiety over the country’s current law and order situation and the fear of sudden, unpredictable interventions.
For these traders, the goal is no longer just a high profit margin, but to navigate the remaining days until Eid without drawing the kind of attention that could bring their business crashing down.
While the high-society trade at the agro-farms reaches its crescendo, the capital’s official municipal markets are only just beginning to stir. At the Gabtoli cattle market on Friday, the air was thick with the sound of hammers and the smell of fresh canvas as workers scrambled to hoist tarpaulins against the unpredictable sun and rain.
Nearby, the seasonal rhythm of the blacksmiths has already hit its peak; temporary forges have sprung up overnight to meet the demand for the tools of the trade.
Biplob Sarkar, owner of ‘Babu Lal Kamar Shop’, explained that his inventory, ranging from heavy bone-cutters to delicate skinning knives, is largely sold by weight, though a significant portion of his business involves sharpening the rusted blades of customers preparing for the sacrifice.
The main cattle pens at Gabtoli may still be under construction, but a lively trade in smaller livestock has already taken root in one corner of the site.
Goats, priced between Tk12,000 and Tk30,000, have begun to arrive in significant numbers, alongside slightly more expensive sheep.
Veteran trader Atoar Sheikh, who has been making the trek from Kushtia for over a decade, has already unloaded a flock of fifty. “I’ve been doing this for more than ten years,” he remarked, noting that his sheep typically fetch between Tk25,000 and Tk45,000. Experience tells him that his stock will be cleared by the holiday, a sentiment echoed by other vendors who are waiting for the sighting of the moon to trigger the final, frantic week of sales.
For now, the presence of cattle at the haat is limited to a few early arrivals.
Al Amin, a vendor from Keraniganj, stood vigil with just two cows, asking a modest Tk38,000 for his smallest and Tk85,000 for the other.
While a few curious passers-by were seen haggling over the price of goats, the cow pens remained largely devoid of serious bidders.
It is a waiting game that has yet to even begin in other parts of the city; the Basila cattle market, for instance, remains a ghost town of empty bamboo frames and quiet fields.
In the outskirts of Keraniganj, however, local farmers are playing a different strategic game. Many have begun showcasing their livestock in smaller, informal neighbourhood markets, hoping to secure a decent price without the overheads of the city.
Their plan is simple: if they can strike a good deal locally, they will take it; if not, they will hold their breath and join the late-season rush into the massive, high-pressure arenas of Gabtoli or Basila in the final days before Eid.
