Zimbabwe police crack down on e-tricycles, threatening rural women's livelihoods

In rural Zimbabwe, electric tricycles (e-tricycles) were once seen as tools of empowerment for women, helping them transport goods and earn a living. But since early 2025, a wave of police enforcement on registration, licensing, and fines has pushed many women into hardship.

In early June 2025, Daires Mutamangira was carrying passengers and food on her electric tricycle along a dusty path in eastern Zimbabwe when traffic police stopped her. They demanded vehicle registration and a driver's license—which she did not have. Despite trying to negotiate, she was fined $15 on the spot.

“It was scary,” Mutamangira told Al Jazeera. “I did not think they could be so cruel, when I was driving on the outskirts of a shopping center, far from the highway.”

Her experience reflects a growing police crackdown on e-tricycles in rural areas like Hauna and Chipinge in Manicaland province. The annual registration and licensing costs amount to nearly $500—far beyond the means of the 300 rural women operating the vehicles, most of whom are single mothers and widows.

E-tricycles, powered by lithium batteries with a top speed of 25 km/h, were introduced across the country to empower rural women. Mutamangira was one of 40 women who received a tricycle in May 2024 to run small transport services in Hauna. The vehicles can carry loads up to 450 kg—useful for farming communities 55 km from the city of Mutare. Farmers need to move produce like bananas, tomatoes, and onions from farms to the highway, and e-tricycles are the main mode of food and goods transport.

“In a good month, I make about $250 profit. My husband is unemployed, so I am the breadwinner,” Mutamangira said, noting that she covers bills and supports four children. In emergencies, the tricycles are also used as makeshift ambulances to transport women in labor and sick people to hospitals, as Zimbabwe faces a severe shortage of ambulances; remote areas like Hauna often have only one breakdown-prone vehicle.

Supported by Mobility for Africa, a local startup, the women pay a small fee to swap batteries at the Hauna charging station and an installment fee for the tricycle until they own it. For Mutamangira, the vehicle is not just an income source but also a symbol of economic independence. “It feels good to be a woman contributing financially to the marriage. I get respect from my husband because I bring value, not just being a housewife,” she said.

Everything changed in February 2025. Police, who had previously allowed free operation in Hauna and Chipinge, suddenly confiscated e-tricycles, demanding registration and driver's licenses. Zimbabwe still uses laws from the Rhodesia era to manage traffic, classifying e-tricycles as motorcycles, requiring licenses, registration, and operating permits on both urban and rural roads—with no distinction between gasoline vehicles and slow electric ones.

Sikhangezile Dube, coordinator of Mobility for Africa in Hauna, said that after police seized several tricycles, they worked with authorities but were told to comply with the law. “We had to stop operations,” Dube said. “In June 2025, we submitted documents to the tax authority and the central vehicle registration office, but there has been no progress.” When police confiscate a tricycle, it can only be retrieved after paying a $90 fine.

Mutamangira was forced to stop work, struggling to make ends meet. “It's tough. I am struggling to pay school fees. I had to change my lifestyle—instead of three meals a day, we now have only one,” she recounted. Rejoice Mandipedza, another operator, said the crackdown left her deeply in debt. “School fees and rent arrears are piling up. This was my only source of income,” she said.

After a three-month pause in 2025, the women gathered courage to return, but police tightened enforcement, even following them into neighborhoods and raiding shopping centers. Mandipedza said: “We have to hide the tricycle in a concealed place, only bringing it out when we have a customer.” As a result, incomes have plummeted: both Mutamangira and Mandipedza now earn only about $70 profit per month, if lucky. “I am barely surviving; I can't even save enough to get a driver's license,” Mandipedza said. To obtain a license, registration, permit, and insurance, they need nearly $500—“too much, I cannot afford it,” she sighed.

Mutamangira and her colleagues have lobbied the government to pass new laws recognizing slow, clean e-tricycles that improve rural mobility, proposing reduced licensing fees. But the process is complicated: the Ministry of Transport manages highways, Rural District Councils manage tertiary roads leading to schools and clinics, and the Ministry of Finance sets fees for permits and vehicles; police only enforce the law. From 2024 to 2025, Mobility for Africa sent multiple letters to the Ministry of Finance requesting fee reductions and to the Ministry of Transport for regulatory changes.

In a letter to Mobility for Africa in January 2025, Ministry of Transport Secretary Joy Makumbe said the fee reduction request was under review. In a letter to police, she recommended exempting women using e-tricycles from permits on rural roads connecting homes, clinics, and schools. Nevertheless, police in Hauna and Chipinge continued confiscations. Shantha Bloemen, founder of Mobility for Africa, commented: “Requiring a rural woman to travel to a major town to register a slow e-tricycle, obtain a motorcycle license, and pay hundreds of dollars in fees and travel costs is impossible. It creates a barrier for the target group—rural communities—who already struggle to transport farm produce and access services.”

Bloemen argued that as the world shifts to green transport, existing policies and regulations need re-examination. “We need to overcome many historical rules that once aimed to restrict the movement of Zimbabweans, and rethink transport to benefit the majority, support economic development—especially for small-scale farmers,” she said.

Manicaland Provincial Minister Misheck Mugadza said he visited one of Mobility for Africa's sites with Finance Minister Mthuli Ncube in 2025 and promised to resolve the issue. “I didn't know this was still happening. I thought they had sorted it out,” he said. Back in Hauna, Mutamangira urged the government to quickly amend the law so they can operate freely. “Let the fees be affordable so we can comply. My family depends on this work,” she said.