The poor reksha driver
Beyond the Wheel: The Untold Struggles of the ‘Poor Rickshaw Driver’
In the bustling cities and dusty towns of South Asia, the rickshaw is more than just a mode of transport; it is a lifeline. For millions, it represents a livelihood, a最后的 resort for the unemployed, and a symbol of resilience. Yet, behind the handlebars and the constant honking lies a community grappling with a silent crisis. The “poor rickshaw driver” is a reality shaped by illiteracy, financial exploitation, brutal competition, and deep-seated social stigma.
The Trap of Illiteracy and Illegality
One of the most pressing issues, particularly in the Madhesh Province of Nepal, is the vicious cycle of illiteracy and illegal operation. A recent survey in Janakpur and Birgunj revealed a staggering statistic: 70.7 percent of e-rickshaw drivers do not have a license . The primary barrier is the written examination required to obtain one. Drivers like 57-year-old Shravan Thakur, who has been driving for eight years, simply cannot clear the test. "I cannot recognize letters and symbols. That's why I couldn't pass the written test," he lamented. "Once I took the test, after failing, I didn't take it again" .
This lack of licensing leaves drivers vulnerable. They face constant harassment, frequent fines from traffic police, and, most critically, a complete lack of legal protection in the event of an accident. Rahul Mahato, another driver from Janakpurdham, explained the daily dread: "Traffic is a pain... fines also have to be paid and there is a lot of trouble when there is an accident. Without a license, you have to run a lot even in normal accidents. I can't even claim insurance" . The absence of a license means that a minor collision can escalate into a financial catastrophe, often leading to jail time or displacement from their profession due to an inability to pay compensation .
The Price of a Ride: Financial Exploitation
The financial burden on these drivers is immense. They are squeezed from all sides—by the government, by vehicle owners, and by an exploitative system. In West Bengal, a political controversy erupted over the state government's imposition of new registration and monthly fees on "toto" (e-rickshaw) owners, with the opposition calling them "burdensome for the poor" . The claim is that drivers, some of whom are graduates forced into the profession due to a lack of jobs, are being "fleeced" to fill government coffers .
This exploitation trickles down to the streets. In Nepal, many drivers report being forced to pay monthly bribes of 500 to 1000 rupees to "leaders" or travel agencies. In return, they receive a sticker for their vehicle, which supposedly grants them immunity from traffic checks. "When any traffic police check, they leave after looking at the sticker. Be overloaded as soon as you see the sticker, whether it is a bill book or a license. They don't stop any traffic," one driver revealed, highlighting a systemic corruption that preys on the poor .
In Dhaka, the shift from pedal rickshaws to motorized versions—while necessary to keep up with a city in a hurry—has come with its own costs. Drivers who once owned their pedal rickshaws now find themselves as hired hands, paying hefty daily "deposits" to owners. Aminuddin, a driver who switched to a motorized rickshaw, explained that while he can make more money, the insecurity is constant. The vehicles are illegal, subject to seizure, and the physical toll of sitting for hours has led to deteriorating health, making some long for the days of manual pulling .
Competition and Social Stigma
The roads have become a battleground for survival. The introduction of e-rickshaws has devastated the incomes of traditional petrol rickshaw and sumo drivers. In Kashmir, drivers like Hilal face overwhelming competition from e-rickshaws that operate without fixed routes or proper permits while they themselves struggle with annual renewal fees of Rs 18,000 and insurance costs of Rs 12,000 . The result is a fractured community, fighting over shrinking passenger numbers. "Every day, we argue with auto or sumo drivers over passengers. No one thinks about how all this affects us," said Bilal Ahmad, an e-rickshaw driver in Srinagar .
To make matters worse, the government's fare regulations are often disconnected from reality. Bilal pointed out that fixed rates are so low that drivers can barely cover their expenses, forcing them to break rules just to feed their families .
Beyond the financial hardships lies a perhaps more painful wound: social stigma. Despite being the backbone of urban mobility, drivers are often viewed with contempt. In Kashmir, a recent report highlighted the deep-seated prejudice drivers face. Salim Manzoor, a 24-year-old B.Com student who drives an e-rickshaw to fund his education, expressed his anguish: "Being a driver is seen as a low-class job here. People pass countless hurtful comments without understanding how much it affects us mentally... we are labeled as drug addicts or alcoholics. Why this discrimination?" .
This stereotype is so pervasive that it creates an environment of fear and anxiety, with drivers constantly feeling judged and profiled .
Stories of Resilience
Yet, amid these overwhelming odds, stories of incredible resilience emerge. In Mumbai, a woman driver shared her story of taking over a rickshaw after her husband developed a mental disorder following a financial crisis. Despite facing vicious abuse from fellow male drivers who smashed her rickshaw’s lights, punctured her tyres, and issued death threats, she persevered. "Giving up wasn't in my dictionary," she said. With the support of a women's group and by relentlessly pursuing complaints up the police chain, she eventually earned their grudging respect. Today, she supports her daughters and works as a weekend bouncer, proving that "this woman isn't stopping anytime soon—she's zooming away in her rickshaw to new heights" .
Then there is the story of Rakesh Pal in Bengaluru, a former MNC employee who quit the "toxic" corporate world to drive an auto-rickshaw. Hounded by an insecure boss and battling depression, he found peace behind the wheel. "I may have lost a career, but I found myself," he says, engaging with passengers in perfect English and living life on his own terms .
Conclusion
The "poor rickshaw driver" is a multifaceted figure: an unlicensed laborer, a victim of corruption, a competitor in a brutal market, and a bearer of social shame. As the transport landscape evolves with electrification and new policies, the calls from drivers are unanimous. They do not ask for charity; they ask for dignity, fair policies, simplified licensing for the illiterate, and a recognition that they are not just drivers, but fathers, students, and providers keeping the economy moving. Until society and the state address these core issues, the struggles beyond the wheel will continue.