Cheap transport, heavy cost: The toxic trail of rickshaw batteries

Every morning, eight-year-old Rafi used to race down his lane laughing, his backpack bouncing as he made his way to school. Lately, though, his parents began to notice worrying changes. He struggled to concentrate on simple lessons, forgot things he had just learned, and seemed tired all the time.

Alarmed, they took him for a medical check-up. The results were shocking: Rafi had dangerously high levels of lead in his blood.

He had never handled a battery, nor had anyone in his family. Yet in a city crowded with vehicles, workshops, and small industries, lead had quietly found its way into his life—through the soil he played on, the air he breathed, the water he drank, and the food he ate. It was harming his growing body without anyone realising.

The damage was already visible. His learning difficulties and constant fatigue were early signs of deeper, long-term health problems that could follow him well into adulthood.

Rafi's story is not an isolated case; it is a warning. Across Dhaka, countless children are absorbing lead every day from their surroundings, often without anyone noticing until the harm is already done.

The risk is even greater for pregnant women. Lead stored in a mother's body can pass into her bloodstream and breast milk, interfering with a child's brain development even before birth.

This invisible poison does more than make children tired or forgetful. It damages the brain, slows growth, weakens vital organs, lowers IQ, and can cause anaemia, kidney disease, and lifelong behavioural problems.

Adults are not spared either. Long-term lead exposure increases the risk of heart disease, neurological disorders, and reproductive complications.

By the time symptoms become obvious, the damage is often permanent. Entire lives—not just childhoods—are altered. The most frightening part is that much of this exposure happens at home, in neighbourhoods we assume are safe.

Recent research shows just how widespread the problem has become. An icddr,b survey of 500 children aged two to four in Dhaka, conducted between 2022 and 2024, found that 98% had blood lead levels above the US CDC reference threshold of 35 micrograms per litre. The median level was 67 micrograms per litre—nearly double the point at which serious concern begins.

Another national survey by the Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics and UNICEF (MICS 2025) found elevated blood lead levels in 38% of children aged 12 to 59 months. In Dhaka, the situation was even worse, with 65% affected.

Medical science is unequivocal: there is no safe level of lead in the blood. Even very small amounts can harm a child's developing brain.

These figures are not just numbers. They point to a city-wide public health emergency that can no longer be ignored.

One major but often overlooked source of lead exposure may be the batteries used in Dhaka's battery-powered rickshaws. Public debate usually centres on their speed, accident risk, or role in traffic congestion. Far less attention is paid to the toxic legacy of the batteries that keep them running.

Most of these batteries are cheaply made, poorly maintained, and short-lived. When they wear out, they are often dumped or recycled informally. In the process, lead leaks into the soil, air, and water, slowly finding its way into homes, schools, and playgrounds.

While battery-run rickshaws provide affordable and relatively clean transport, they are also quietly poisoning a generation.

Bangladesh's lead problem is already severe, and the rapid, largely unregulated expansion of battery-powered rickshaws threatens to make it far worse.

There is no central registry, but the Bangladesh Road Transport Authority estimates that more than six million battery-run rickshaws now operate nationwide, with around one to 1.2 million in Dhaka alone.

Each rickshaw depends on lead-acid batteries that typically last just one to one and a half years. Their constant replacement creates an endless stream of hazardous waste. This is not just a transport or congestion issue.

Every poorly handled battery adds to the toxic lead building up in our soil, water, air, and food, putting entire communities—especially children—at risk.

The danger is compounded by how these batteries are recycled. Around 70% of lead-acid batteries in Bangladesh are processed informally, often in small workshops with little or no safety oversight.

Workers break open batteries by hand to extract lead, and an estimated 15% of that toxic material ends up directly in the environment, contaminating land and water.

Each year, the country generates roughly 480,000 tonnes of lead-acid battery waste, yet only a small portion is handled by formal recycling facilities. Every improperly recycled battery becomes a ticking time bomb, continuing to expose children like Rafi long after the rickshaw itself is gone.

Some experts argue that Bangladesh should move away from lead-acid batteries altogether and switch to lithium-ion alternatives. The argument is persuasive.

Lithium-ion batteries last six to seven years instead of barely one, charge faster, weigh less, and eliminate the risk of lead contamination entirely.

But the transition is not simple. Lithium-ion batteries are far more expensive, putting them out of reach for most rickshaw owners without financial support.

Bangladesh also lacks a proper recycling system for lithium-ion batteries, and careless disposal could create new environmental problems.

The real challenge, then, is not just choosing one battery type over another, but building a system that keeps batteries safe throughout their entire life cycle.

In many developed countries, lead-acid batteries are recycled through tightly regulated, near closed-loop systems rather than informal backyard operations. In the United States, for example, almost 99% of used lead-acid batteries are collected and recycled through authorised facilities.

At these plants, batteries are carefully dismantled. Lead, plastic, and acid are separated and reused. The lead is refined into ingots, plastic casings are cleaned and remoulded, and the acid is neutralised or repurposed for other industrial uses.

Across Europe, strict regulations ensure high collection and recycling rates, making lead-acid battery recycling one of the most efficient waste-management systems in the world.

To avoid a deepening crisis, Bangladesh urgently needs a clear national plan to manage the rapidly growing volume of used lead-acid batteries. The solutions are not complicated, but they require political commitment.

First, all battery-powered rickshaws must be formally registered so authorities know how many vehicles—and batteries—are in circulation.

Second, the Extended Producer Responsibility system, which makes manufacturers and importers responsible for waste, must be properly enforced. Companies must be compelled to collect and safely recycle spent batteries, reducing reliance on informal smelters.

Third, the country needs a network of licensed, closely monitored recycling facilities across major districts, supported by incentives that push old batteries into safe, formal channels instead of illegal furnaces.

The biggest obstacle is not policy design but implementation. Many rules already exist but are rarely enforced.

Bangladesh must strengthen environmental standards, carry out regular inspections, penalise illegal recycling, and run public awareness campaigns so families understand the dangers of lead exposure.

Only a coordinated response—from government, industry, and communities—can pull the country back from the edge of this growing catastrophe.

Sketch: TBS

Sumanta Saoree Shreya is a development practitioner specialising in social policy. She is currently working with BRAC's Advocacy for Social Change programme.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.