Dhaka's streets tell a story of transition. Where pedal rickshaws once dominated the city's intricate network of narrow lanes and busy intersections, battery-powered variants now weave through traffic with increasing prevalence. This shift represents a fundamental restructuring of urban mobility, livelihoods, and city planning challenges.
Innovision Consulting, Bangladesh's leading management consulting firm, recently released a comprehensive study titled Urban Mobility Study: From Battery to Pedal - Rickshaws in Transition, examining this transformation. Based on surveys of 384 rickshaw drivers, 392 passengers, and 63 garage owners across Dhaka North and South City Corporations, the report offers fascinating insights into one of the city's most visible yet poorly understood economic sectors.
Here are several key takeaways from the report that highlight the complexity behind Dhaka's evolving transportation landscape. You can read the full report here.
When asked why they switched from pedal to battery, "42.34% of drivers cited reduced physical strain, the single largest factor." Passenger demand came second at 31.53%, with higher income third at 20.72%.
This reveals something often overlooked in economic analyses: the brutal physical toll of driving a pedal rickshaw. For aging workers or those seeking sustainable long-term employment, battery rickshaws offer dignity alongside income.
We think this dignitary aspect deserves more weight in policy discussions. When regulators talk about "cleaning up the streets" or "modernizing transport," they rarely acknowledge that they're discussing people's bodies, the knees, backs, and cardiovascular systems that pedal rickshaws destroy over decades of work.
Battery rickshaws aren't just about earning more; they're about surviving longer in the profession. Any policy that forces workers back to pedal rickshaws is effectively mandating bodily harm for aesthetic or administrative convenience.
The registration numbers are damning: "97.4% of battery rickshaws operate unregistered, compared to 86% of pedal rickshaws." According to official data cited in the report, "there are 1,82,630 registered pedal rickshaws under [Dhaka South City Corporation's] jurisdiction and there are 30,000 rickshaws under the Dhaka North City Corporation's jurisdiction. However, this data is not up-to-date."
Without registration, there's no accountability, no maintenance standards, no driver licensing, and no meaningful regulation. The sector exists almost entirely in the shadows of the formal economy.
But here's where we need to interrogate the assumption that formalization necessarily improves outcomes. Bangladesh's vehicle registration systems are notoriously corrupt, slow, and expensive. The BRTA is not exactly known for efficient, citizen-friendly service.
The question isn't whether rickshaws should be registered, it's whether our registration systems are fit for purpose. If formalization means drivers spending days at BRTA or other government offices, paying unofficial fees to speed things along, and facing harassment from people who treat registration as a revenue opportunity rather than a public service, then we might actually be making things worse.
We genuinely believe no regulation would be better than hyper-regulation implemented through Bangladesh's current administrative infrastructure. We've seen this pattern repeatedly: well-intentioned rules become extraction mechanisms, driving more activity underground rather than bringing it into the formal economy.
Here's an interesting paradox: passenger preference splits roughly 50-50 between battery and pedal rickshaws (50.77% prefer battery, 49.23% prefer pedal), yet 74.23% actually use battery rickshaws for daily commutes.
The reasons are clear from the data. Of passengers who prefer battery rickshaws, "82% stated that it was more time efficient." Meanwhile, of those who prefer pedal rickshaws, "93% cited safety."
People know battery rickshaws are more dangerous, but they just can't afford the time cost of the safer alternative. It is hardly ignorance; it’s called rational decision-making under constraints.
We think this revealed preference matters enormously for policy. When regulators decide what's "best" for people, they often ignore these constrained choices. A middle-class policymaker who drives to work might find it easy to prioritize safety over speed. A garment worker who loses wages for being late understands the calculation differently.
This doesn't mean abandoning safety improvements. It means recognizing that people are making informed tradeoffs, and policy should enhance choices rather than eliminate them. Give people safer battery rickshaws, not just pedal rickshaws or nothing.
The core user base consists of adults aged 18-34 (52%) with monthly household incomes between BDT 20,001-50,000. The report notes that "approximately 79% of the passengers within this income bracket are aged between 18 and 44 years."
These aren't the city's poorest residents, but they're not wealthy enough for private transport either. The report found that "Approximately 55.36% of respondents with a monthly household income between BDT 10,001 and 50,000 reported spending BDT 10–110 per day on rickshaw rides for personal travel needs. This suggests that individuals within this income bracket represent the primary and most significant commuter segment for this mode of transportation. Moreover, as income increases, the number of passengers spending BDT 10-109 and BDT 110-209 increases as well until the monthly income of the passengers reaches the range of BDT 20,001 – 30,000. Beyond BDT 30,000, passengers become less dependent on using rickshaws to travel, as income and expense begin to have an inverse relationship. This shows that as income increases, the number of passengers willing to spend on rickshaws decreases."
This income band is politically invisible. Too "well-off" for poverty programs, too poor for car-centric infrastructure, they're the people who actually make Dhaka function: office workers, shop employees, small business owners, students.
When we implement regulations without considering their constraints, we're effectively taxing the city's working backbone. The wealthy adjust (they take Ubers), the poor endure (they walk), but the lower-middle-income workers, who are trying to climb economically, get squeezed hardest.
The usage data reveals rickshaws' true role in Dhaka's transport ecosystem. Top uses include "going to work (17.34%), commuting to public transport (13.77%), and children's school runs (9.94%)."
The report emphasizes: "Nearly two-thirds of passengers use rickshaws for short trips of 1–3 km, while over one-third rely on them for longer-distance travel."
Rickshaws don't compete with buses or CNGs for long hauls. They solve the "last mile problem" that plagues public transit systems worldwide, connecting homes to transit hubs and workplaces to main roads.
This functional role should shape regulation fundamentally. The report's recommendation for "zone-based operation regulations (allowing battery rickshaws only in alleys/inner roads)" makes sense precisely because that's already what most passengers use them for.
But we worry about implementation. "Allowing only on inner roads" sounds reasonable until you try to define which roads qualify, then enforce those definitions across thousands of narrow, unmarked streets. The regulatory ambiguity becomes another harassment opportunity.
We've seen this with street vendors, small manufacturers, and informal services. Vague rules that give enforcers discretion always become extraction mechanisms. If we can't write clear, map-based regulations that drivers can follow with minimal official interaction, we shouldn't implement them at all.
The report found that "79% of passengers support stricter regulation of battery rickshaws." But when asked what the government should actually do, 78.06% favor zone-based regulation over outright bans.
The most popular approaches: "allow them only on inner roads, not on main roads (33.93%), require valid driver licenses (22.19%), and impose speed restrictions (21.94%). Only 21.94% support complete prohibition."
This is sophisticated public opinion, recognizing both the service value and safety concerns, seeking balanced solutions rather than blanket bans. The report characterizes this accurately: "support for stricter regulation of battery rickshaws is high (79%), rather than an outright ban."
But we need to be careful about interpreting "support for regulation" as a blank check. The public wants better, safer service; they're not asking for bureaucratic harassment of drivers or corruption-enabling administrative processes.
The second-order consequences of regulation matter enormously. When you require licenses, who issues them? How long does it take? What unofficial fees emerge? When you impose speed restrictions, who enforces them? With calibrated equipment or arbitrary judgment? When you designate allowed roads, who decides? With community input or administrative fiat?
Our public policy record suggests these details get captured by rent-seeking interests, turning reasonable regulations into unreasonable burdens. Policy makers must be mindful of this challenge, not just what they intend regulations to do, but how those regulations will actually function in Bangladesh's administrative reality.
The 63 garage owners surveyed have a median of 18 years in the business; these are experienced entrepreneurs, not opportunistic newcomers. The report notes: "Garage owners act as the backbone of this informal economy, with a median of 18 years in the trade."
Collectively, they own 1,400 pedal rickshaws versus 975 battery units. But the transition is underway: "35% of the garage owners surveyed transformed their previously owned pedal rickshaws to battery rickshaws" at a weighted average cost of BDT 62,230 per vehicle.
Currently, "62% of garage owners prefer battery rickshaws over pedal rickshaws," citing higher demand, greater income potential, and operational flexibility.
This is one of the most actionable insights in the entire report. Garage owners have capital, experience, and long-term stakes in the sector. They're the natural partners for formalization, if incentives align properly.
The report recommends that "NGOs & MFIs could provide the 'affordable credit' required to incentivize the transition from pedal to battery rickshaws. Furthermore, garage owners can be offered this credit only if they purchase battery rickshaws produced through the standardized manufacturing procedure."
This makes sense, but the devil is in the details. "Standardized manufacturing" could mean genuine safety improvements, or it could mean politically-connected manufacturers getting a captive market. "Affordable credit" could ease formalization, or it could create new debt dependencies.
We think the right approach is carrots, not sticks, to make formal, standardized operations more profitable than informal ones, rather than making informal operations illegal. But this requires the government to actually deliver value: faster registrations, protection from arbitrary enforcement, access to designated parking and charging, maybe even preferential routes or hours.
If formalization just means more costs without more benefits, garage owners will stay informal and use their superior resources to evade enforcement, while drivers bear the costs.
Here's an insight that emerges from combining data points: the report shows that converting a pedal rickshaw to battery power costs approximately BDT 62,230, and this is "typically financed via MFIs."
But new battery rickshaws cost BDT 35,000-200,000. This suggests the conversion route, taking existing pedal rickshaw frames and adding motors, is actually more expensive than buying purpose-built battery rickshaws at the lower end of the range.
Why would owners do this? Possibly because they already own the pedal rickshaws (sunk cost), have relationships with specific fabricators, or face credit constraints that make BDT 62,230 in conversion loans easier to obtain than BDT 100,000+ for new vehicles.
But it also suggests the informal assembly market is inefficient and potentially produces lower-quality vehicles. Purpose-built battery rickshaws from standardized manufacturers might actually be cheaper and safer than ad-hoc conversions.
This creates a policy opportunity: rather than banning conversions, make standardized options more attractive through credit access or registration preferences. Let the market shift toward quality rather than forcing it through prohibition.
The report notes that among challenges faced by garage owners, "more than 60% commonly struggle with frequent need for repairs, battery costs, and replacements." It also mentions "charging infrastructure gaps, such as the lack of accessible charging stations, also limit operational efficiency."
This is actually good news for policymakers, because infrastructure is something the government can directly provide without getting entangled in complex enforcement.
Designated charging stations, possibly operated through PPPs or utility company tie-ins, could be a genuinely helpful intervention that doesn't require harassing drivers. It would also create visibility into fleet size and usage patterns, registration through service provision rather than through bureaucratic decree.
We think this is the model worth pursuing: make formalization attractive by solving real problems that the informal sector can't address on its own. Need charging? Register your vehicle. Need parking? Show your license. Need access to better roads during certain hours? Comply with safety standards.
This flips the logic from punishment to incentive, and creates systems where compliance is the path of least resistance rather than the greatest hassle.
One of the most important insights comes from combining the accident and income data. Battery rickshaws have higher accident rates and severity, but also higher income potential for owners. Pedal rickshaws are safer but physically destructive and lower-earning.
But this tradeoff isn't technologically determined; it's a function of current vehicle design, driver training, and road infrastructure. The report's recommendation for "standardized vehicle design" recognizes this.
Speed governors, better brakes, improved stability, mandatory lights and reflectors, driver training on defensive techniques, all of these could improve battery rickshaw safety without eliminating their economic advantages.
The question is whether regulation mandates these improvements in ways that actually happen, or in ways that just create compliance costs without safety benefits.
We’re reminded of the helmet law debates in many South Asian countries. Mandatory helmets are obviously good for safety, but enforcement often means police taking bribes rather than ensuring helmet use. The regulation exists, compliance is low, rent-seeking is high, and safety doesn't actually improve.
We need to design for the political economy we have, not the one we wish for. In Bangladesh's current governance context, that means simple, verifiable standards that are hard to fake and hard to selectively enforce. "Your rickshaw has working brakes and lights" is enforceable. "Your rickshaw meets 47 different specifications requiring expert assessment" becomes an extortion opportunity.
The report found that "46.88% of pedal drivers and 47.40% of battery drivers desire to drive another vehicle" in the future. Among battery drivers specifically, "40% expressed aspirations to transition to driving motor vehicles."
The top aspiration for pedal drivers? Battery rickshaws (36.62%). For battery drivers? CNG/Auto-rickshaws (27.69%) and private cars/pickups/buses (15.38%).
This reveals rickshaw driving as a transitional occupation, not a destination. People enter the sector looking for something better than farming or daily labor, but hope to exit into more prestigious, higher-earning transport work.
We think this matters for how we talk about formalization. The goal isn't to trap people in rickshaw driving with better regulations; it's to make the sector a functional stepping stone. That means training that's transferable (defensive driving, traffic rules, customer service), licensing that builds credit history and formal identity, and income levels that allow saving for the next transition.
If regulation makes rickshaw driving more expensive to enter or more difficult to leave, we're making the poverty trap deeper, not lifting people out of it.
The demographic shift is striking. Battery rickshaw drivers have a median age of 38 years compared to 42 for their pedal-pushing counterparts. More tellingly, they're better educated, 32% have completed education beyond grade six, versus 26% of pedal drivers.
This suggests battery rickshaws are attracting a different type of worker: younger, slightly more educated, and likely viewing this as a stepping stone rather than a lifetime vocation. The profession is evolving from a last-resort occupation to something that might offer genuine economic mobility, at least in perception.
We think this matters more than it appears. Education levels in informal transport work often correlate with bargaining power, safety consciousness, and ability to navigate regulatory systems. A more educated driver workforce could be crucial for any formalization effort. At the same time, it also indicates that we are not able to create higher-value opportunities for our human resources.
Perhaps the most consequential finding: pedal rickshaw drivers average 15 years of experience, while nearly 60% of battery drivers have less than two years behind the handlebars. The report notes that "43.75% respondents reported having more than 15 years of experience in driving a pedal rickshaw, indicating a long-standing and stable workforce within this segment."
This creates a safety paradox. The sector is rapidly expanding with operators who lack the street wisdom, traffic navigation skills, and passenger handling experience that comes from years on the road. It's a recipe for accidents, and the data bears this out.
But here's where we need to think carefully about policy responses. Driver training programs sound reasonable, but Bangladesh's history of licensing requirements often becomes a rent-seeking opportunity for various stakeholders. The cure can be worse than the disease. Any training mandate needs built-in accountability measures and transparent, corruption-resistant implementation; it just becomes another tax on poor workers.
About 24.5% of battery rickshaw drivers previously operated pedal rickshaws, representing the largest single occupational background among battery drivers. This reveals a clear migration pathway within the sector itself.
The remaining came from farming (21.35%), daily labor (5.21%), garment work (6.25%), and other informal occupations. The report explicitly states that "this potentially indicates that the battery rickshaw is attracting more workforce in the sector."
Battery rickshaws aren't just replacing pedal ones; they're expanding the sector entirely, pulling workers from across Bangladesh's informal economy. This has significant implications: we're not witnessing a simple technology substitution, but sector expansion that's absorbing labor from agriculture and manufacturing.
This makes blanket bans particularly destructive. You're not just affecting existing rickshaw drivers; you're eliminating economic opportunities for rural migrants and displaced workers who see battery rickshaws as their best available option. To meaningfully address this challenge, stakeholders have to create alternative economic opportunities to absorb these people.
According to the report, "92.50% pedal rickshaws cost between BDT 3,000–15,000, while 97.01% battery rickshaws are typically priced between BDT 35,000–200,000."
This capital barrier fundamentally shapes ownership patterns. While 35% of pedal drivers own their vehicles (often purchased with personal savings), only 21% of battery drivers can claim ownership. The rest rent, paying daily fees that are three times higher than pedal equivalents. The report also suggests that battery rickshaw ownership also pushes owners to rely on MFI and other forms of loans.
This ownership structure is deeply concerning. When the vast majority of operators don't own their means of production, they have minimal voice in how regulation affects them. Garage owners, who have the capital and connections, will navigate any new regulatory framework. Drivers will bear the costs.
The report found that "pedal rickshaws are primarily purchased using personal savings (60%), whereas battery rickshaws are more commonly financed through loans from NGOs or microfinance institutions (59.7%)."
The debt burden is substantial: "80% of battery rickshaw drivers borrow between BDT 40,000 and 120,000, with an average loan size of approximately BDT 80,000."
This creates both opportunity and vulnerability. Drivers gain access to higher-earning vehicles but carry significant financial risk in an unregulated sector. One regulatory crackdown, one police harassment campaign, and these drivers can't make loan payments.
We think this microfinance dependency should temper any aggressive regulatory intervention. These aren't speculative investments; they're survival debts. Policy changes that disrupt earning potential could trigger a wave of defaults, harming both drivers and the microfinance institutions that serve low-income communities.
Here's where economics gets interesting. The report provides detailed income breakdowns that reveal the sector's actual power dynamics.
For rented vehicles, "the daily net income for rented pedal rickshaws is BDT 484, which is higher than the daily net income for rented battery rickshaws—BDT 418." The higher rental costs eat into battery drivers' earnings.
But for owners, the gap is dramatic: "a battery rickshaw generates a significantly higher income of BDT 970 daily" compared to BDT 530 for pedal rickshaws, nearly double.
The real winners? Garage owners are collecting rent. The report calculates that "each rented battery rickshaw generates a gross revenue of BDT 832 per day, composed of the driver's net income: BDT 418 and the weighted average of the rental payment to the owner: BDT 414."
Think about that: nearly half the gross revenue goes to the owner. The report itself notes this concern: "Possible exploitation of the battery rickshaw drivers may also be occurring, as almost half of the gross income is taken away from battery rickshaw drivers."
This is why we’re skeptical of regulations that primarily target drivers rather than ownership structures. The current system already extracts significant value from workers. Additional compliance costs will likely be passed down to drivers, not absorbed by owners.
After absorbing all this data, we keep returning to one fundamental conclusion: the problem isn't that we lack good policy ideas; the Innovision report offers a thoughtful, multi-stakeholder framework that balances safety, livelihoods, and mobility needs.
The problem is that Bangladesh's administrative state has repeatedly proven incapable of implementing nuanced regulations without turning them into harassment and rent-seeking opportunities.
We've tried to formalize street vendors, small manufacturers, home-based workers, and various informal transport sectors. The result is usually: some formalization at the top end (those with capital and connections), continued informality in the middle, and intensified harassment at the bottom (those who can't afford compliance or can't navigate bureaucracy).
Given all this, what do we think should happen? A few principles:
Start with infrastructure, not enforcement. Build charging stations, create designated parking, and improve road surfaces in rickshaw-heavy areas. Provide services that make formalization attractive before demanding compliance.
Keep rules simple and verifiable. "The vehicle has lights, brakes, and horn" can be checked in 30 seconds. "Vehicle meets BRTA Standard Specification 47B subsection 12" requires an expert and creates discretion. Minimize discretion.
Create benefits for compliance. Registered rickshaws get charging access. Licensed drivers get accident insurance. Compliant garages get MFI credit. Make formality more profitable than informality, not just more legal.
Pilot before scaling. Try zone-based regulations in one neighborhood, learn what actually works, adjust, then expand. Don't impose citywide systems that have never been tested.
Build from existing structures. Garage owners already organize drivers, manage fleets, and maintain vehicles. Work through them rather than trying to reach hundreds of thousands of individuals. Create garage owner associations with formal status, then regulate those.
Accept imperfect compliance. Aiming for 95% registration is futile and will create massive enforcement costs. Aiming for 60% might be achievable and still transform the sector's safety and visibility.
Ruthlessly punish official corruption. If we're asking poor drivers to comply with rules, we must hold officials and stakeholders to even higher standards. Any bribe-taking in rickshaw registration or enforcement should mean immediate termination, not just a warning. This matters more than the rules themselves.
Monitor outcomes, not just inputs. Don't measure success by registrations issued or drivers trained. Measure accident rates, driver income stability, passenger satisfaction, and congestion impacts. If regulations aren't improving these outcomes, change the regulations.
The Innovision report documents a remarkable market-driven transformation. Without government planning, hundreds of thousands of workers have shifted toward battery rickshaws in response to real economic and physical incentives. Millions of passengers have voted with their daily choices, revealing preferences for speed despite safety concerns.
This is the market working: aggregating dispersed information, responding to incentives, solving coordination problems that planners couldn't anticipate.
But markets alone can't solve collective action problems like safety externalities, congestion, and environmental impacts. That's what regulation is for.
The challenge is implementing regulations that actually help rather than just imposing costs. Given our administrative capacity and governance culture, that's not a technical problem; it's a political economy problem.
We think the Innovision report provides excellent evidence and a solid framework. What it can't provide, what no report can provide, is the state capacity and political will to implement nuanced regulation without corruption.
Until we address that fundamental challenge, we remain convinced that imperfect markets with minimal regulation are preferable to perfect regulations with corrupt implementation. Let battery rickshaws continue evolving through market forces, provide infrastructure support where possible, and focus regulatory energy on the most critical safety interventions that are simple enough to be corruption-resistant.
That's not the ideal outcome. But in Bangladesh's current governance reality, it might be the best achievable one. And achieving modest improvements for millions of people is better than designing perfect systems that fail in practice.
The urban mobility transition is happening whether we plan it or not. The question is whether our institutions can adapt to help, or whether they'll just get in the way.
