Hey there! Here’s newsletter number two of Makeshift Mobility.
It’s gotten a bit more crowded since you were last here. Currently we’re just 15 shy of 200 subscribers—which is not bad for a newly launched newsletter. Or, so my social media maven friends, tell me. (Want to help me hit 250 after this second issue?)
Last time we talked about three-wheelers. This time let’s talk about four-wheelers.
If you’re in East Africa, you call them matatus, or dala-dalas, or haflas; if you’re in West Africa, you say danfo, or foula-foula, or tro-tro. In Latin America and the Caribbean, you say caminioneta or collectivo.
Funmi Oyatugun created a map of all the different names for these makeshift mobility four-wheelers across Africa.
Of course, the kids in reddit say some of the names are off, but it does show you how ubiquitous the form factor is across the continent. (Anyone want to do a version for Latin America or South East Asia?)
What do they call these four-wheelers in your home city? In many places, it’s simply called a bus or a mini-bus for good reason, as it carries more people (12, 15, 18, up to 30). You know, like a bus.
A movie metaphor by any other name is…
These mini-buses pretty much behave the way a city-bus would behave: There’s a fixed route. You hail the ride anywhere along the route. You pay a fare when you get on and you can get off wherever you want but only along the route. Like a city-bus.
Ok, so maybe “behave” is too strong a word.
I mean they would behave the same way a city-bus would…if city-buses were contestants in the Hunger Games.
…because they are competitive.
…and by competitive, I mean hyper-competitive.
…and by hyper, I mean drive-like-Imperator-Furiosa-in-Mad-Max-Fury-Road competitive.
(Incidentally, a ride in one of these is also usually accompanied by loud music. Very, very loud music.)
Here’s urbanist, author and Jeopardy champion Greg Lindsay’s experience of riding a jeepney in Metro Manila.
I edited (elided) it to try give you that cinematic staccato cut effect. (Sorry, Greg.)
Clambering into the back of what amounts to a stretched jeep with a tin roof, I slide down one of the vinyl seats to sit behind the driver…Eighteen of us sit knee-to-knee. Everyone covers their faces with a handkerchief in one hand while bracing themselves with the other, and for good reason. Jeepneys have neither emissions standards nor seatbelts nor retirement ages…A speaker mounted on the floor blasts the 1986 hit “(I Just) Died In Your Arms.” Not necessarily what you want to hear while swerving across multiple lanes of traffic at top speeds…As we race along the Avenue of Death, weaving between cars, trucks, buses…motorcycle taxis…Every few hundred yards a row of cinder blocks appears…We pull into one as if entering the pits at Daytona…Then we peel out again. Our driver is paid for how many fares he collects, creating the perverse incentive to race between stops when his cab is full or to interminably wait until it is. The only speed limits are those imposed by congestion.
I added the emphasis because Greg clues us into what drives the behavior. (Pun, haha.)
The informal transportation game is set-up to be hyper-competitive. Mad Max, hyper-libertarian, late-stage capitalism competitive. (Thank you, structural adjustment.) Income is only derived from fares.
The game is to load fast. Capture as many passengers as you can. Speed off. (Speed = more trips = more passengers = more income.)
So, most cities struggle to create a regulatory framework that works for these mini-buses. Mostly authorities use traffic rules and set fare rates. (I have yet to see anything in policy about service standards.) Mostly the rules are inadequate.
It’s the Wild, Wild West. (Ok, too many movie references.)
Thing is, most people in makeshift mobility cities depend on these mini-buses to get around. It’s a love-hate relationship.
Which is why you and I need to have some serious inter-city policy discussion on this.
Discussion that involves the drivers and the passengers, of course, because that’s the only way to be inclusive.
(Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to be the Developed-World-Makeshift-Mobility-Messiah, my colonizer friend. Besides, this is NOT just a developing world phenomenon.)
Here, there, everywhere
Did I say makeshift mobility is ubiquitous? I did?
Because, you know, it really IS ubiquitous.
Even NYC has its version of the matatu, a.k.a. the dollar vans, and they’ve been around since the 80s. Here’s the origin story. (Thanks to Phil Myrick of Project for Public Spaces for the link).
Just like in Nairobi or Lagos or Dhaka or Mexico City, the people who use dollar vans find it indispensable while the authorities are still trying to figure out the right way to regulate the privately-provided service.
The 2014 New York article was a part of a larger project by Aaron Reis to understand how the dollar vans worked for the Big Apple. Reis says:
The informal transportation networks fill that [public transit] void with frequent departures and dependable schedules, but they lack service maps, posted timetables, and official stations or stops. There is no Web site or kiosk to help you navigate them. Instead, riders come to know these networks through conversations with friends and neighbors, or from happening upon the vans in the street.
So, Reis also created a gorgeous interactive map to show the routes.
Which is a really good segue into the main channel of innovation we’re seeing for four-wheelers: digital mapping.
An online transit map by any other name is…
Where the lead tech innovation in three-wheelers was adapting the digital-ride hail model, the most visible innovation in four-wheeled makeshift mobility is to make the whole system visible by mapping the routes (via GPS) and putting them on the map. (No need to ask your neighbors how to get to X from Y.)
The first efforts at this started early this past decade with the Rockefeller Foundation funded Digital Matatu project in Nairobi. The project was (is) led by Jackie Klopp and Sarah Williams from Columbia U’s CUSD in partnership with the University of Nairobi and Groupshot’s Adam White. (Sarah has since moved to MIT to start the Civic Design Lab.)
In parallel, Kevin Webb and Holly Krambeck-Lee from the World Bank were also working on digital mapping jeepney routes in the Philippine cities of Cebu and Metro Manila through the Open Transportation Partnership. Kevin eventually went on to co-found SharedStreets.io.
Both teams were adapting GTFS to map the routes. The two teams came up with an extension to GTFS that would work for makeshift mobility.
The Digital Matatu team also came up with a gorgeous system map that Google accepted and published, making it the first ever online map of makeshift mobility. The city of Nairobi was so excited (after an initial lukewarm reception) and adapted the paper version of the map as their first ever official city transit map.
Since then, similar efforts have blossomed across the world such as volunteer-led Digital Cairo; Urban Launchpad and Kewkarandong mapping Dhaka’s system; and Whereismytransport in South Africa offering digital mapping as a paid service for cities.
Google has even initiated a voice guide to Lagos’ danfo and motor-taxi routes via Google Assistant, complete with a Nigerian accent.
For now, the work is to make the system legible and to provide guided navigation (e.g. what route should you to take.) A few are attempting electronic payment systems or proximity ride-hail (think Uber pool but with dollar vans). But electronic payment systems tend to fail because makeshift mobility prefers to transact in cash.
The holy grail would be some sort of fleet management system that could rationalize the supply of mini-buses on the road based on demand. The problem of course is that hyper-competitiveness game setup that we talked about earlier.
Fleet management requires fleet level control which is practically absent in makeshift mobility. On average, mini-bus operators own 1 to 2 units. A few can own as much as ten. No owner has a fleet big enough to shape the market.
Despite the atomized market, GoMetro in South Africa and Data Integrated in Kenya are giving fleet management a try. Let’s see if they can make it work. Stay tuned.
One more note
Unless regulation prevents them, most of these vehicles are gregarious and fabulously decorated, festooned with ornaments, and airbrushed with legit pieces of art.
Photo from The Guardian
I told you makeshift mobility is exciting, and not just for transport reasons.
Ok. That’s it for now. Catch you in two weeks. If you enjoyed this, hit the button below to share.
Hit this one to subscribe and help me get to 250. (“And beyond!”)
I’m Benjie de la Peña, a transport geek and urban nerd. I live in Seattle with my wife, two kids, and two cats. One of my cats is orange, the other is black. I also think a lot about strategic design, institutional shifts, and innovation. I believe makeshift mobility could be the single greatest lever to decarbonize the urban transport sector -but only if we can organize.
Mapa dos Chapas de Maputo: https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B-Kpgak-0FIYcmg3QWVFUnhHYUk