The woman who gave up her home for Dhaka’s stray cats and dogs

What’s your money worth? A series from the front line of the cost of living crisis, where people who have been hit hard share their monthly expenses.

Name: Dipanwita Ridi

Age: 37

Occupation: Founder and chairperson of Animal Lovers of Bangladesh (ALB) animal shelter, the country’s first animal adoption shelter for strays; freelance content writer and translator.

Lives with: Two rescue cats – a 13-year-old female called Pitu and a six-month-old male named Pouch. Various stray cats – a female and five males – come and go as they please.

Lives in: A one-bedroom apartment in Dhaka, the capital of Bangladesh.

Monthly household income: In August, Dipanwita earned 43,591 Bangladeshi taka ($390) from her freelance work.

The average monthly income is 7,614 taka ($68) nationwide and 10,951 taka ($98) in urban areas, according to the 2022 Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics Household Income and Expenditure Survey.

Total expenses for the month: 30,000 taka ($269) spent on rent, utilities, food and transport to attend a birthday and a wedding.

Since founding Bangladesh’s first animal adoption shelter about a decade ago, Dipanwita Ridi has become a key figure in the fight for animal welfare in her country.

She has dedicated her life to rescuing stray cats and dogs, including those that have been injured, abused or tortured, and helps find homes for rehabilitated animals.

Dipanwita, a tall woman with long green hair, tattoos on both hands and facial piercings, describes herself as an introvert. But when it comes to helping animals, she is outspoken and determined to do whatever it takes.

Dipanwita, who admits she feels more connected to animals than to people, first started rescuing strays when she was 12.

One day, a young Dipanwita encountered children in her neighbourhood drowning a kitten in a puddle of rainwater as others watched. Shocked, she marched over and took the kitten home. On another occasion, she came across a boy a little older than herself strangling a puppy with a rope. She told him to stop but he refused. They argued, and she remembers that after she threatened to get her parents, he released the animal which she then took home with her. At the time, her parents were going through a painful separation, and the rescued kitten (Kitty) and puppy (Joti) became her closest – and only – companions.

“Joti used to walk me to my school,” she recalls softly. Three years later, he was killed on the road after walking with Dipanwita to her school, leaving her devastated.

Throughout her teenage years, Dipanwita continued to rescue animals, taking care of them until they could be released back on to the streets. In 2010, before beginning her studies in fashion design, she began volunteering with an animal rescue and advocacy organisation. Three years later, she decided to establish a shelter.

“There were clinics before but no shelter,” she says. “Dogs and cats were left on the street after accidents or in sickness and someone had to start a shelter.”

Eighty dogs and 65 cats

The ALB animal shelter is spread over two houses which Dipanwita and her mother, who lives in her ancestral village about 200km (124 miles) away, own in the southeastern Dhaka suburb of Narayanganj.

Dogs can be heard barking from the road outside and as soon as Dipanwita enters the grounds, they flock to her, some jumping, many waiting or pushing to come closer for a cuddle and to rub their faces affectionately against her.

The shelter used to be Dipanwita’s home until 2018 when the number of strays reached the point where she was forced to move elsewhere.

Today, the shelter belongs to 80 dogs and 65 cats. Most are rescue animals and about 30 are neighbourhood dogs brought by people who pay a monthly fee for them to be cared for in a safe place.

The shelter is primarily funded by donations, the monthly fees, and Dipanwita’s own personal funds, including an amount she receives from her parents every month. This money goes towards the running costs of the shelter which include food, transport and treatment for rescue animals, staff salaries and utilities.

Sometimes, there are unexpected costs. In August, monsoon rains drenched the floors inside the shelter. Dipanwita raised 40,000 taka ($358) through crowdfunding and put 12,000 taka ($107) of her own money towards repairing them.

Having given up her childhood home to the shelter’s four-legged residents, Dipanwita today lives alone with her cats in a small, rented ground-floor apartment in the upper middle-class neighbourhood of Rayer Bazar, which is home to a diverse mix of students, families and young professionals.

Her apartment gets little natural light and she has a mattress to sleep on, two plastic wardrobes and other pieces of furniture, most of which were bought second-hand via Facebook. Dipanwita rarely throws out her belongings and stores old and winter clothes and bedsheets in polythene bags in a corner of the kitchen.

Most days, she wakes up at about midday, and lights a cigarette as soon as she gets out of bed. She does the dishes, boils drinking water and tops up the cats’ food and water bowls, then has something to eat. In the afternoon, she manages the shelter remotely – coordinating rescue work with volunteers and crafting awareness-raising Facebook posts.

“I try to do 99 percent of my work online – from grocery shopping to running the shelter – as that helps to save more money,” Dipanwita, who wears glasses and often dresses in black, explains. “I do not go outside very often except to the shelter a few times a month now as the transportation cost [for three-wheeler taxis] has also gone up.”

Dipanwita relies on the shelter’s Facebook page to learn about animals who need rescuing and to promote fundraising and adoption campaigns.

A minimalist lifestyle

For several years now, Dipanwita has led a minimalist lifestyle to afford the shelter’s expenses. Before the pandemic, she spent money as she pleased – she went to plays, ate out, and bought clothing and shampoo and other toiletry brands she liked. She’d buy dresses that cost 3,000 taka ($27); now she won’t spend more than 300 taka ($2.70) on one.

“When I started the shelter I was mentally prepared that I have to adjust. I knew that I had to cut down on my expenses, but not like this,” she says. “After the lockdown, the price of everything increased.”

The cost of pet food, rent and groceries have all gone up. The last year has seen particularly steep increases. After three years of paying 11,800 taka ($106) in rent, for example, it went up to 12,500 taka ($112) in January.

Dipanwita has cut back on everything. She no longer eats out to enjoy her favourite foods like pizza and creamy chicken soup, and foregoes the iced coffee she loves. At 250 to 300 taka ($2.20 to $2.70) per cup, it is the same price as a day’s worth of meals.

“From toothpaste to toilet tissue, I have changed everything that I need in my daily life. I have switched to cheaper options,” she explains.

To run the shelter and make ends meet, Dipanwita has worked as a freelance translator and content writer for the past four years. She starts that work at about 10pm after her evening chores – cleaning, watering her plants, refilling the jar for filtered water, all while listening to audiobooks, usually horror fiction or psychological thrillers. She works for a couple of hours, then at midnight, after feeding about 10 stray cats outside her building, she has dinner and goes to bed.

Working with abused animals and financial pressures are a source of stress for Dipanwita. But at the same time, she says, “I am happy, peaceful and satisfied that I work to save lives.”

Over the course of August, Dipanwita tracked her monthly expenses in collaboration with reporter Dil Afrose Jahan. Here are the expenses that tested her finances the most.

Food: ‘A luxury for me’

Dipanwita finds cooking for herself a hassle, so she orders all her lunches and dinners from a catering service which delivers twice a month.

She walks over to her fridge and opens it to show more than 25 containers of precooked meals inside. “This is the best option for me. I know the catering service from an animal lover,” she says. “Her mother cooks and I get a little bit of a discount as well.”

Some dishes have gone up in price like those made with chicken or tomatoes, such as lentil soup, so she’s stopped ordering them.

“I do not eat chicken any more. I only have budget for chicken for my kids [pets and rescued animals],” says Dipanwita, who refers to herself as the “mother” of her pets and rescued animals.

The only groceries she buys are rice and instant noodles.

“Food is a luxury for me,” she says glumly. “Whenever I felt sad, I used to order food online,” Dipanwita explains. But price increases mean she can no longer afford to do this. “Now I browse different online food services, and end up not ordering anything,” she adds, smiling softly.

Last August: an estimated 3,000-4,000 taka ($27-36) on readymade meals for a month
This August: 7,000 taka ($63)

Tattoos, hair dye and piercings: Sacrifices for the animals

Dipanwita likes travelling and going to the cinema but hasn’t done either since post-COVID inflation drove costs up.

“Sometimes I feel bad for myself. Then I tell myself that if I do not go to watch a movie, I will be able to treat a sick animal, and buy food for my children. I feel good when I see them recovering from their injuries and when they eat,” says Dipanwita as she sprays insect repellent around her apartment. Her apartment sits next to the building’s common rubbish disposal area, and flies enter, disturbing her pets.

Dipanwita has given up other activities like getting her hair coloured at the hairdresser’s. “I colour my hair at home because it’s very cheap compared to doing it in a beauty salon,” she says.

She also hasn’t been able to add to her 11 tattoos and nine piercings recently. The last time she got a tattoo, she had to pay the artist in monthly instalments as she could not pay all at once.

As she waters her plants, Dipanwita remarks that she used to have many more. But last year, after two of her cats who loved playing with plants died, she gave them away as it pained her to keep them.

Last year : 23,000 taka ($206) for one tattoo, two piercings, and plants
This year: 1,500 taka ($13) for plants

Rescue transportation: ‘I also have to pay a waiting charge’

Dipanwita coordinates rescues remotely which require hired transportation as well as taking animals to the vet for treatment. Once she is alerted about an animal in need of rescuing, she will arrange for a volunteer or a rescuer, who she pays 500 taka ($4.50), to collect it.

“I need to hire a CNG [three-wheeler] for the shelter’s rescue work, I also have to pay the waiting charge while rescuing any animal,” she says.

If it is a dog or two cats then a three-wheeler is a must, otherwise a motorbike is sufficient for one cat. “I do not have any private transportation of my own. It’s even more expensive than hiring transport,” says Dipanwita. Even so, the price of transport has doubled in the past year.

Last August: an estimated 800-1,000 taka ($7-$9) per trip
This August: 1,800-2,000 taka ($16-$18)

Food for the shelter: ‘I feel bad the dogs don’t get treats anymore’

For her rescue animals and pets, Dipanwita buys chicken, broken rice – a byproduct fed to livestock and animals – wheat, beef and eggs.

But for the past year, she has not been able to buy beef for the shelter’s dogs due to increased costs, when she used to every three months.

“I feel really bad that I cannot give any treats to the dogs at my shelter,” she says.

She buys chicken, which, though more expensive than it used to be, is still cheaper than beef. She requires 50kg a day to feed all the shelter animals.

Last August: an estimated 55,000 taka ($492) for food for the shelter animals
This August: 85,000 taka ($761)

Treatment for animals: A discount for rescue animals

The cost of visiting a vet and getting basic treatment has also increased. Dipanwita gets a small discount for bringing in rescue animals rather than pets. The animals require care for issues such as certain diseases, broken limbs as a result of abuse or accidents, and tumours.

As she holds Pouch and nuzzles her face into his back, she explains that visits to the vet have doubled in price. “The normal visit for a check-up was 300 taka ($2.70) and now it’s 600 taka ($5), [and] any kind of surgery would have cost 3,500 taka ($31) and now it’s 4,000 taka ($36).”

Last August: an estimated 27,000 taka ($242) for treating shelter animals
This August: 33,257 taka ($298)

Three quick questions for Dipanwita

1. What’s the hardest financial decision you had to make in August month? As it was monsoon, heavy rains caused waterlogging inside the shelter. I had to spend 52,000 ($471) to raise the floor height and bring sand to the outdoor area so that the animals can walk around, and play. Still, I am short of money to repair and build covers to protect them from the sun.

2. What’s your biggest money worry? I do not know what to do if inflation goes on like this. I want to make the shelter self-sufficient. So I am trying to stay positive. If I do not, I will not be able to survive this.

3. What’s the saving hack you are proudest of? Buying second-hand things and comparing prices to get the best deal.