Hundreds of women in rural Zimbabwe who rely on electric tricycles for work and getting around are now at risk as police crack down on the vehicles more and more. These e-tricycles were brought in by a startup called Mobility for Africa with the goal of giving rural women a way to earn money by moving farm produce, groceries, and even sick people through areas where roads are bad, and vehicles are hard to come by.
The program launched in Hauna, in eastern Zimbabwe, back in 2024 and has grown from around 20 women to many more since then. Those who get access to the tricycles can make money by moving crops and supplies for nearby farmers, with many saying they bring in around $25 to $30 a day. They do not own the vehicles outright from the start — instead, they work under a lease-to-own arrangement that also covers maintenance and battery swaps.
Access to the tricycles runs through a shared, community-centered setup where women either lease or take turns using them. Since reliable electricity is hard to come by in many of these areas, solar-powered charging stations keep the vehicles running. On top of that, the program has created local jobs in maintenance, battery management, and delivery services.
The financial gains have been meaningful, but the changes go beyond money. Women who once had little say in household matters and few ways to earn income are finding their voices in both family and community decisions. A number of participants say they are now able to cover school fees, fix up their homes, and provide more reliably for their families.
The issue is under current traffic laws, these low-speed electric tricycles are treated no differently than motorcycles. That means operators are expected to have licenses, registration, insurance, and permits — costs that can pile up to nearly $500 a year, according to reports. For women who are largely single mothers and widows scraping together a living, that amount is simply not realistic. Police have responded by handing out fines, taking vehicles away, and demanding that operators follow rules most of them cannot afford to follow.
The fallout has been serious. Women who had built up a steady income to cover daily needs and school costs have suddenly found themselves with almost nothing coming in. Some have slipped into debt, cut back on meals, or started hiding their tricycles to keep them out of reach of authorities.
People pushing for change argue the existing laws are behind the times and lump clean, slow-moving electric vehicles in with standard motorized ones without any distinction. They want updated regulations, lower costs, and special exceptions that would let rural women keep working without fear of penalty. Conversations with government officials have happened, but little has moved forward, leaving many women uncertain about what comes next.
