Tough life Boda Boda riders go through to earn a living

Bennie is one of Kenya’s more than one million boda boda riders, a growing workforce that keeps the country moving. They are the unofficial emergency service, last-mile delivery system, rural taxi network, and in many places, the heartbeat of the modern economy. But behind the constant buzz of engines lies a world few Kenyans ever see.

A Job Born Not Out of Choice, but Survival

“I never dreamt of doing this,” Bennie admits, leaning on his bike during a short mid-morning break. “But when the jobs refused to come, the bike became my employer.”

Like many youths, he finished Form Four with hopes of college. But poverty, unemployment, and the pressure to provide for his family pushed him into the boda boda business. He borrowed KSh 50,000 from a cousin to buy a second-hand bike. Since then, the road has been both a blessing and a battlefield.

Danger on Two Wheels

Every day, boda boda riders take risks that most Kenyans never think about. Bennie has witnessed everything—head-on collisions, robberies, and violent passengers.

“You never know who you are carrying,” he says.

His eyes darken as he remembers a night he was attacked by two men posing as passengers. They stole his phone, money, and nearly his bike.

Accidents remain the biggest threat. Riders often work long hours, navigating reckless drivers, potholes, and unpredictable weather. Many ride without proper safety gear—not by choice, but because they can not afford it.

A Business Built on Trust

Despite the risks, boda boda riders are deeply rooted in their communities. They deliver shopping to elderly women, rush sick children to clinics, and pick up school-going kids when parents are away. “Sometimes a customer trusts me with their house keys,” Bennie says proudly. “They call me even at midnight.”

For many families, boda riders are more than transport—they are lifelines.

The Unseen Struggle

Behind the scenes, life is tough. Rising fuel prices cut into the little profit they make. County officers harass them for permits they can barely afford. And on days when the weather is bad, income drops to almost nothing.

Bennie’s average earnings are about KSh 800–1,200 a day. Out of that, he must pay fuel, maintenance, savings for repairs, and daily household expenses.

“Sometimes you take home KSh 200,” he says. “But you must smile because tomorrow you still have to ride.”

Dreams Beyond the Handlebars

Yet, hopes and dreams survive even in hardship. Bennie is slowly saving to start a spare parts shop. Another rider, Mwikali, dreams of opening a salon. Many others hope to go back to school one day.

For them, the boda boda is not the destination—it is the bridge.

The Pulse of a Nation

As the sun sets, Bennie prepares for the evening rush, adjusting his reflector jacket and checking his lights. The familiar vibration of his motorcycle hums softly beneath him, like a heartbeat.

“I know this work is hard,” he says, “but it feeds my family. And until God opens another door, this road is mine.”

With a twist of the throttle, he disappears into the fading light—one rider among thousands, carrying the weight of Kenya’s economy on two wheels.