Monica Atieno and her husband, Stephen Ochieng, drive motorcycle taxis. Tara Todras-Whitehill/The New York Times

The Taxi Drivers Who Wear Pink

Kenya’s “Boda Girls” are turning a male-dominated industry upside down

When her three children didn’t have enough to eat, Monica Atieno decided to apply for a job through a new program in Kenya that was recruiting women to become motorcycle taxi drivers—a profession long dominated by men.

At first, she kept her plan a secret from her husband, who was himself a motorcycle taxi driver in their town of Ukwala, in western Kenya. When he found out, he was furious and threatened to leave. But Atieno says she told him: “I’m going to do it because I know what I’m going to achieve.”

Last year, after hundreds of hours of training, she became a motorcycle taxi driver—a “Boda Girl,” as they’re called, named after the two-wheeled taxis called boda-bodas. Atieno’s now one of about 1,000 women among the estimated 2.5 million motorcycle taxi drivers in Kenya, according to the Boda Boda Safety Association, an advocacy group.

Monica Atieno’s three children didn’t have enough to eat. She decided to apply for a job through a new program in Kenya. The program was recruiting women to become motorcycle taxi drivers—a profession long dominated by men.

At first, she kept her plan a secret from her husband. He was a motorcycle taxi driver in their town of Ukwala, in western Kenya. When he found out, he was angry and even threatened to leave. But Atieno says she told him: “I’m going to do it because I know what I’m going to achieve.”

Last year, after hundreds of hours of training, she became a motorcycle taxi driver. She’s called a “Boda Girl.” The name refers to the two-wheeled taxis called boda-bodas. Atieno’s now one of about 1,000 women among the estimated 2.5 million motorcycle taxi drivers in Kenya, according to the Boda Boda Safety Association, an advocacy group.

“When I joined Boda Girls, my life changed completely. My kids can dress nicely. They can get food every day.” —Lilian Rehema

The road to success in this East African nation has been full of obstacles. Many of the women who signed up, like Atieno, had never before driven a motorbike, let alone a car. They’ve faced harassment from passengers and fellow drivers. Their husbands have voiced disapproval.

The women received training in essential skills such as self-defense and mechanics. Now many say they’ve begun to earn incomes and independence, discovered new strengths, and, in some cases, started to support their entire families—accomplishments they once thought impossible.

“When I joined Boda Girls, my life changed completely,” says Lilian Rehema, one of the first female motorcycle taxi drivers in her area. “My kids can dress nicely. They can get food every day.”

It has not been an easy road for the Boda Girls in Kenya. Many of the women who signed up, like Atieno, had never driven a motorbike or a car. Other drivers and passengers harassed the women. Their husbands voiced disapproval.

The women received training in essential skills such as self-defense and mechanics. Now many say they’ve begun to earn incomes and independence. They have discovered new strengths, and, in some cases, started to support their entire families. These accomplishments were once thought impossible.

“When I joined Boda Girls, my life changed completely,” says Lilian Rehema, one of the first female motorcycle taxi drivers in her area. “My kids can dress nicely. They can get food every day.”

Jim McMahon

Creating Jobs

Boda-bodas originated in the 1960s when riders along the border between Kenya and Uganda would shout “border to border” to attract customers, according to researchers. What started as bicycle taxis eventually transformed into motorcycle taxis—often cheap, imported bikes from India. Boda-bodas became one of Kenya’s major economic forces.

The Boda Girls program started when Dan Ogola, who had helped found the local Matibabu Hospital two decades ago, noticed that women were regularly coming to the hospital in search of work—whether as cooks, cleaners, or receptionists.

The hospital was one of the largest employers in Siaya County, where
1 million residents live mostly in villages and small towns connected by red soil roads that wind through flat plains and rolling hills. Many people make a living by farming maize, cassava, or sweet potatoes. Others fish in Lake Victoria, Africa’s largest lake. Jobs are scarce, especially for women.

Boda-bodas originated in the 1960s. According to researchers, riders along the border between Kenya and Uganda would shout “border to border” to attract customers. What started as bicycle taxis eventually transformed into cheap motorcycle taxis imported from India. Boda-bodas became one of Kenya’s major economic forces.

The Boda Girls program was started by Dan Ogola. He had helped found the local Matibabu Hospital two decades ago. Ogola noticed that women were regularly coming to the hospital in search of work—whether as cooks, cleaners, or receptionists.

The hospital was one of the largest employers in Siaya County. The area is home to 1 million residents who live mostly in villages and small towns. These are connected by red soil roads that wind through flat plains and rolling hills. Many people make a living by farming maize, cassava, or sweet potatoes. Others fish in Lake Victoria, Africa’s largest lake. Jobs are scarce, especially for women.

Tara Todras-Whitehill/The New York Times

Lilian Rehema prepares to drive a client and her child.

At the same time, Ogola noticed a troubling pattern: When these same women became patients, they couldn’t afford transportation to the hospital for medical checkups. Many had to walk up to two hours, even when pregnant, to reach the hospital. Some ended up giving birth en route.

So with the support of an American charity, the Tiba Foundation, which also helps fund the hospital, Ogola hired a driving school to train female motorcycle taxi drivers. In April 2022, he recruited 10 women from nearby villages—the first cohort of Boda Girls.

“We kill poverty by creating jobs for them,” he says, “and they bring people to us and make health services accessible to women.”

At the same time, Ogola also noticed a troubling pattern. When these same women became patients, they couldn’t afford transportation to the hospital for medical checkups. Many had to walk up to two hours, even when pregnant, to reach the hospital. Some ended up giving birth on the way to the hospital.

With the support of the Tiba Foundation, an American charity that helps fund the hospital, Ogola hired a driving school. The goal was to train female motorcycle taxi drivers. In April 2022, he recruited the first cohort of Boda Girls, which consisted of 10 women from nearby villages.

“We kill poverty by creating jobs for them,” he says, “and they bring people to us and make health services accessible to women.”

Tara Todras-Whitehill/The New York Times

Learning how to change the oil on their motorbikes

‘I Could Learn’

After Rehema’s husband died, she and her four children could no longer survive on money from growing kale on her small farm. On the verge of losing her home, she was forced to beg for money. After years of struggle, she came across Matibabu Hospital’s surprising job opportunity when she went there hoping to find work as a cook. She had never before heard of women driving boda-bodas.

“I didn’t know how to ride, but I could learn,” Rehema says.

Rehema’s husband died and she could no longer take care of her four children on money she earned from growing kale on her small farm. She was forced to beg for money to keep her home. After years of struggle, she went to Matibabu Hospital hoping to find work as a cook. It was then she discovered the opportunity of women driving boda-bodas.

“I didn’t know how to ride, but I could learn,” Rehema says.

Many people in the area make a living by farming, while others fish in Lake Victoria. Jobs are scarce, especially for women.

With time and persistence, she mastered the skills to navigate the region’s unpredictable dirt roads: hitting the brakes just before turns and leaning into corners while keeping steady. She learned how to change engine oil in inconvenient conditions.

Two years ago, she became one of the first female drivers in her area. Now she rushes expectant mothers to deliver their babies in the hospital and transports women and their babies to checkups. When she arrives at the hospital, she greets everyone with warm smiles and kisses babies and shakes hands like a beloved local politician.

With time and persistence, she mastered the skills to navigate the region’s unpredictable dirt roads. She learned to hit the brakes just before turns and to lean into corners while keeping steady. Rehema also learned how to change engine oil in inconvenient conditions.

Two years ago, she became one of the first female drivers in her area. Now she rushes expectant mothers to deliver their babies in the hospital. She also drives women and their babies to checkups. When she arrives at the hospital, she greets everyone with warm smiles and kisses babies and shakes hands like a beloved local politician.

Tara Todras-Whitehill/The New York Times

Some Boda Girls also make money by doing hair and making soap (right).

A Changing Landscape

The Boda Girls program was an instant hit, and women like Rehema inspired others, such as Lucy Odele, to join. Each morning, Odele marveled at the confidence of the Boda Girls zooming past her house. Odele had had polio as a child, leaving her with a limp and making it hard for her to stand for long. It also made finding work even more difficult. As a single mother living with a parent, Odele longed for independence.

She applied to the program, and in May 2023 joined 13 other women as part of the second cohort. But Odele initially struggled, finding it hard to swing her leg over the bike.

The Boda Girls program was an instant hit. Women like Rehema inspired others, such as Lucy Odele, to join. Each morning, Odele marveled at the confidence of the Boda Girls zooming past her house. Odele had had polio as a child. This left her with a limp that made it hard for her to stand for long. It also made finding work even more difficult. As a single mother living with a parent, Odele longed for independence.

She applied to the program. In May 2023 she joined 13 other women to become part of the second cohort. But Odele initially struggled, finding it hard to swing her leg over the bike.

Trainees have pink seats on their motorbikes. When they graduate, they’re given purple leather seats displaying the Boda Girls logo.

“I used to cry. I would see others make progress, while I stayed where
I was,” she says.

She refused to give up, and the program found her a solution: a smaller scooter that she could mount more easily. At night, she wheels it carefully into her cramped house, positioning it next to her sofa like a trusted friend.

“I know what it’s like, walking long distances to clinics,” she says. “I don’t want anybody to suffer the way I suffered.”

The program has now trained 51 women. In the early mornings, some of them can be seen on their colorful bikes with bright-pink seats, a mark of their trainee status. When they graduate, they receive purple leather seats, each displaying the hand-stitched Boda Girls logo.

Not everyone is a fan of the program, however. Many male boda-boda drivers say that women are taking their jobs.

“Before the Boda Girls arrived, I was doing well, but things changed,” says Frederic Owino, a longtime boda-boda driver in the county. “Since they came, my work has decreased.”

“I used to cry. I would see others make progress, while I stayed where I was,” she says.

She refused to give up. The program found her a smaller scooter that she could mount more easily. At night, she wheels it carefully into her cramped house, putting it next to her sofa like a trusted friend.

“I know what it’s like, walking long distances to clinics,” she says. “I don’t want anybody to suffer the way I suffered.”

The program has now trained 51 women. They can be seen on their colorful bikes with bright-pink seats, a mark of their trainee status, driving around in the early mornings. When they graduate, they receive purple leather seats, each displaying the hand-stitched Boda Girls logo.

Not everyone is a fan of the program. Many male boda-boda drivers say that women are taking their jobs.

“Before the Boda Girls arrived, I was doing well, but things changed,” says Frederic Owino, a longtime boda-boda driver in the county. “Since they came, my work has decreased.”

Tara Todras-Whitehill/The New York Times

Self-defense drills teach Boda Girls how to protect themselves.

Kevin Mubadi, chair of the Boda Boda Safety Association of Kenya, which supports inclusion for female drivers, says, “Some passengers still find it strange for women to ride boda-bodas.”

He adds that women often experience “sexual harassment from male clients.” To protect themselves, the Boda Girls learn self-defense. Trainers teach them to stop the bike if a passenger is inappropriate, firmly assert the rules, and take a defensive stance—arms extended, palms out, ready to kick if threatened.

The Boda Girls have gone on to share these skills with girls in nearby schools. The landscape is slowly changing, with more women joining the industry not just as drivers but as engineers and mechanics as well.

Atieno’s once-skeptical husband, who had threatened to leave when she first enrolled in the program, changed his mind after a month when he saw that she was already earning double what he made. With her Boda Girl earnings, she bought a cow and several pigs, and expanded into other ventures such as making soap and tailoring.

One morning in July, she carried two of their children to school on the back of her purple motorbike. Her husband hopped on too so he could attend a parent-teacher meeting. After dropping them at school, Atieno rode on—off to work.

Kevin Mubadi, chair of the Boda Boda Safety Association of Kenya, which supports inclusion for female drivers, says, “Some passengers still find it strange for women to ride boda-bodas.”

He adds that women often experience “sexual harassment from male clients.” The Boda Girls learn self-defense to protect themselves. Trainers teach them to stop the bike and assert the rules if a passenger is inappropriate. The training includes learning to take a defensive stance—arms extended, palms out, ready to kick if threatened.

The Boda Girls have gone on to share these skills with girls in nearby schools. The landscape is slowly changing. More women are joining the industry not just as drivers but as engineers and mechanics as well.

Atieno’s once-skeptical husband, who had threatened to leave when she first enrolled in the program, changed his mind after a month. He saw that she was already earning double what he made. With her Boda Girl earnings, she bought a cow and several pigs. Atieno has expanded into other ventures such as making soap and tailoring.

One morning in July, she carried two of their children to school on the back of her purple motorbike. Her husband hopped on too so he could attend a parent-teacher meeting. Then after dropping them at school, Atieno rode off to work.

Sarah Hurtes covers international news for The New York Times. Tara Todras-Whitehill is a freelance photojournalist.

Sarah Hurtes covers international news for The New York Times. Tara Todras-Whitehill is a freelance photojournalist.

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