Boda Boda blues: Kenyans hold onto old bikes as import costs bite

The roar of boda bodas which dominate Kenyan streets, might be replaced by husky roar from old motorbike engines. Data from the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics (KNBS) paints a stark picture: a 77.5 per cent plunge in imported motorcycles and motorized cycles in the first nine months of 2023 compared to the same period in 2022. This isn't a waning love for two wheels, but a desperate grip on rusty handlebars in the face of a brutal economic squeeze.

Soaring import costs are the first hurdle. The Kenyan Shilling's dizzying descent has transformed every new motorcycle into a financial Everest. Bikes that once cost Sh135,000 now demand a gut-wrenching Sh200,000, enough to make any rider whose livelihood depends on affordability wince. "Those days of selling your boda boda after two years and upgrading are gone," sighs Robert Mwesige, his calloused hands gripping the worn handlebars of his well-worn bike which he tries to camouflage the many dents by paint. "In these hard times, we're holding onto every nut and bolt."

But sticker shock is just the first blow. The market itself is overflowing with two-wheeled steeds, an estimated 1.8 million buzzing across the country. Nzau Wilberforce, another rider, shakes his head. "There are just too many out there. Who needs another one?" With the swarm already deafening, the allure of adding another rider to the fray dims considerably.

This trend throws a wrench into the Kenya Kwanza administration's ambition of an e-mobility future. Boda bodas were seen as the crucial gateway to electric vehicles, but the plunge in new purchases throws a wet blanket on that vision.

So, what's the new reality for Kenya boda riders? Holding onto their trusty steeds appears like the only sensible option. Rising costs, a saturated market, and a tinge of uncertainty around e-mobility's future make the familiar rumble of gasoline engines a comforting constant.

But the equation isn't just about personal finances. "Jobs are scarce too," says Kevin Onyancha, his voice etched with concern. "People who used to rent our bikes to make ends meet are struggling themselves. We have to keep these wheels turning for ourselves if we want to eat."

For now, the roar of new, well-oiled two-stroke Indian made boda bodas might dim, replaced by the hum of careful maintenance and the clinking of repaired parts. But the resilience of the Kenyan rider, etched in every patched tire, faded leather jackets and dented yellow helmet, remains undimmed.