Why every government fails to regulate battery-run autorickshaws
Bangladesh’s battery-run autorickshaw crisis shows how the political economy of informal transport governance has endured for decades, with regulation now caught between revenue losses, safety concerns and the livelihoods of millions of drivers
Back in 1996-97, researcher and political analyst Firoz Ahmed was still a university student. One day, he saw one of the ruling party MPs attending a procession.
"The previous government maintained a rickshaw thief network. Rickshaw-pullers had to pay Tk300 every month, and their rickshaws had a sign behind it that read — 'Rickshaw Theft Prevention Committee'. Those who refused to pay the money had their rickshaws stolen," Firoz recalls the MP as saying.
Three decades later, another vehicle governance crisis plagues our urban discourse — to ban batter-powered autorickshaws, or not to ban, that is the question. Rickshaws got motors, but the political economy Firoz Ahmed observed 30 years ago has survived remarkably well.
The government now estimates that between 50 lakh and 80 lakh battery-run autorickshaws and electric three-wheelers operate across Bangladesh. The Bangladesh Road Transport Authority's estimate is above 60 lakh, including 10–12 lakh in Dhaka.
To regulate them, the government plans on implementing a colour-coded zoning system that divides Dhaka into eight distinct regions, mandating digital tracking and QR codes to prevent cloned registrations, and cracking down on unauthorised manufacturers and the 48,000 illegal charging stations that, according to a recent statement by Home Minister Salahuddin Ahmed, cost the state roughly Tk4,000 crore in annual revenue.
While autorickshaws have been strictly banned from major national highways to reduce accidents, the city streets are still full of them, and it still seems unlikely that the government may go for a massive crackdown to protect the livelihoods of millions of drivers.
What previous governments tried, but failed, to do
The previous Awami League government tried to regulate the battery-run autorickshaws in May 2024. On 15 May, then road transport and bridges minister Obaidul Quader ordered the authorities to stop battery-run rickshaws from operating in Dhaka.
Drivers responded violently by blocking roads. On 19 May, protests paralysed parts of Mirpur. Demonstrators vandalised at least four buses and set fire to a police box at Kalshi. Police used batons and tear gas; clashes left at least 20 injured.
The ban lasted only a few days. On 20 May, Quader announced that then prime minister Sheikh Hasina had allowed the vehicles to continue operating in Dhaka, considering the suffering of low-income drivers. Restrictions on highways remained.
The cycle repeated after the July Uprising.
On 19 November 2024, the High Court ordered the authorities to stop battery-run rickshaws in Dhaka within three days. Drivers again blocked roads and railway tracks. On 25 November, following an appeal by the government, the Appellate Division imposed a one-month status quo on the order. The vehicles returned.
"Regulation has stayed on paper because each one reached for a ban and mistook eviction for regulation. You cannot ban a vehicle that has already become an industry," said Mohammad Subail bin Alam, director at the executive committee of the Bangladesh Sustainable and Renewable Energy Association (BSREA).
The state abandoned the last-mile vehicle
While arguing about the abundance of battery-run autorickshaws, critics often forget the reason why they became so popular in the first place. They filled a genuine transport vacuum. Then the politically connected garage-owners saw the opportunity and flooded the streets.
Buses do not enter narrow residential streets. Metro stations do not carry passengers to their homes. CNG-run autorickshaws are often too expensive for routine short journeys. Paddle-run rickshaws are too slow for the city. And anyone who thinks walking is a good idea in Dhaka city clearly has never walked through the footpaths of New Market, Gulistan, Mirpur-10 or Farmgate before 11am or after 5pm.
The battery rickshaw offers a cheap ride available near the passenger's doorstep.
"There is a social demand for transport, and who is responsible for meeting that demand? The government and the city corporations," Firoz Ahmed said. "When they fail to provide formal transport options, informal forms of transport inevitably emerge."
This is why law enforcement or shouting 'Ban autorickshaws' or Sohani Shifa's stunts to confront the drivers like an angry Indian-film heroine cannot eliminate them.
"If the government does not provide adequate transport for short-distance and last-mile journeys, people will find another way," Firoz Ahmed said. "You cannot simply stop this through enforcement. The first task is to provide alternatives."
Thailand offers a useful comparison, he added. Bangkok had far more rickshaws 10 or 15 years ago, but their numbers fell as other transport options improved. Informal transport was gradually pushed towards the margins.
Millions of vehicles, but no accountable owner
The autorickshaw economy now runs through a long chain of component importers, assembly workshops, mechanics, vehicle owners, fleet operators, garages, charging businesses, drivers, local leaders and protection networks.
Yet regulatory proposals usually begin at the end of the chain with the driver.
"Regulation has stayed on paper because each one reached for a ban and mistook eviction for regulation. You cannot ban a vehicle that has already become an industry."
Because the vehicles generally have no BRTA registration, identification number or reliable ownership record, the police cannot issue conventional traffic fines. Authorities can seize them, but do not have enough dumping space for a fleet numbering in the millions. A driver may be removed today and replaced tomorrow.
Even licensing authority remains contested. BRTA has said responsibility has not been formally assigned to it, while city corporations claim jurisdiction over rickshaw licensing. The Road Transport and Highways Division drafted an Electric Three-Wheeler Management Policy in 2025; the Local Government Division later developed separate guidelines amid reported BRTA objections.
"The fragmentation is almost designed to preserve disorder. The failure so far has not been technical but political — a matter of bureaucratic tangle and vested interest," Subail bin Alam said.
The toll on road safety is no longer insignificant
Passengers and other road users know the common hazards like abrupt turns, wrong-way driving, excessive speed, weak lighting and brakes that fail under load. Many pedal rickshaws were fitted with motors without redesigning their frames, braking systems or centres of gravity.
According to the Bangladesh Jatri Kalyan Samiti, Bangladesh recorded 6,729 road crashes in 2025, causing 9,111 deaths and 14,812 injuries. Battery-run autorickshaws were involved in 13.54% of those crashes.
Buet engineers have already developed a standardised model featuring hydraulic and parking brakes, indicators, mirrors, automatic half-doors, a reinforced driver compartment and a vehicle identification number. The recommended speed is 27–30km/h, with a braking distance below 10 metres.
Therefore, the engineering problem, in other words, is solvable. The problem lies in the governance.
Behind every vehicle is the question of electricity theft
The transport disorder hides a second economy inside garages.
The home minister told parliament that the country has only around 3,300 legal charging points, while Dhaka alone contains more than 48,000 informal or illegal ones. He estimated that illegal charging deprives the government of about Tk4,000 crore in annual revenue.
The fleet may consume 5% or more of Bangladesh's electricity generation. Charging several vehicles simultaneously from residential connections can overload transformers and distribution lines, while commercial operators pay subsidised household rates or bypass meters altogether.
Shafiqul Alam, lead energy analyst for Bangladesh at the Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis, said, "The pressure can be managed if charging facilities are adequate and users pay properly for their electricity. Solar power could meet part of the additional demand where sufficient capacity is installed."
But charging is only one part of the environmental cost. Most vehicles use relatively cheap lead-acid batteries with short lifespans. Informal dismantling and recycling expose workers, who are sometimes children, to surrounding communities to lead contamination. The World Health Organization says there is no safe level of exposure to lead.
"The government also needs to ensure that the batteries and charging systems being used meet appropriate quality and safety standards," Shafiqul said. "A proper licensing mechanism could provide one way of bringing it under control."
"Any policy that registers drivers but leaves garages, charging operators and battery recyclers untouched will formalise the visible vehicle while protecting the invisible money," he added.
Why is the mess profitable?
Why, then, has a workable system not emerged? The answer is practical. Informality distributes benefits. Owners avoid taxes and compliance costs. Garages profit from unmetered or underpriced electricity. Local intermediaries collect payments for access, routes and protection.
That is why an autorickshaw garage that used to house 10-15 rickshaws immediately after the July Uprising now houses about a hundred.
"There is also an institutional interest in maintaining informality," Shafiqul Alam said, "Whenever a large informal sector develops, it creates opportunities for informal businesses and networks to extract money in exchange for protection or access."
"The problem with maintaining disorder is that it creates discretionary power," Firoz Ahmed said, "When traffic is controlled manually rather than through functioning signals and predictable rules, enforcement officers have greater control over who moves and who does not."
Firoz argues that citizens, traffic engineers and transport specialists must participate in designing and reviewing traffic rules, rather than leaving crucial operational decisions almost entirely to police.
"The more effectively you formalise an informal sector, the less space there is for these informal networks," he said.
Shafiqul warned that without transparent structures and oversight, the sector will remain vulnerable to political patronage particularly given the amount of money involved.
That is the real choice facing the government. Proper governance and regulation can turn millions of vehicles, garages and workers into a regulated, safe network. Or it can announce another ban like its predecessors, provoke another protest, retreat again, and critics can continue calling an economy of millions of vehicles illegal because recognising it would require the state to govern it.
