Poorest hit hardest by new taxi regulation

These days it takes Ana more than three hours to make the 10 km journey to work and costs her nearly US $2 - time and money she can little afford. Like most people living in the Angolan capital, Ana is reliant on taxi-buses, known locally as 'Candongueiros', to get around the city. But in the last few weeks, candongueiros - easily identifiable by their often-blaring music and sometimes reckless driving - have become scarce. The provincial government of Luanda has clamped down on the 5,000 taxi-buses it says are operating illegally, blaming them for increased congestion and road accidents. Now they must stay off the roads until they are properly registered. "There are so few taxis that you have to fight to get on board. I prefer to wait a bit longer until there is less of a mad crowd trying to get on at once, even if it means I'm late for work," Ana said. Angola is rich in oil but most of its 13 million people live in abject poverty; unemployment is sky-high and those who have jobs are desperate not to lose them. Standing at the back of a morning rush-hour queue in downtown Luanda proved too much for one disgruntled customer. "There are so few candongueiros on the roads now, and those that pass by are totally full so they don't stop to pick us up. I'm not going to bother waiting any longer - I'm going to walk," he said. "I'll get fired if I don't get to work soon." The heavy demand has sent travel costs soaring, with a 30 kwanza ($0.35) journey now costing up to 50 kwanza ($0.59). To cash in on the extra business, some taxi drivers have also shortened each trip, meaning more queues with passengers who have to fork out more money. "For people who live out of town it can now cost 400 kwanza ($4.71) just to come to central Luanda," said the man as he set off on foot. For those earning the minimum monthly wage of $50, getting to and from work each day can add up to more than twice their salary. According to state media, only 2,577 candongueiro drivers have register their vehicles since the government ordered them to comply three months ago. This week, those who had not were given an additional 30 days to register, or stay off the roads until next year when the books reopen. For smaller investors, buying a vehicle and putting it to work as a candongueiro represents a viable business opportunity, but the registration process has hiked start-up costs, making it a less attractive option. Estimates for the cost of registration vary, with most drivers saying it can set them back around $1,000 annually, including the paperwork, insurance and a generous tip (or bribe) that is usually required, especially if the vehicle is in bad condition. For many, the process is simply too costly. "I can't afford to cough up that much money, especially if I don't keep on working," said one unregistered driver carrying a taxi-load of passengers. "The government only sees things from its point of view. You've seen how bad the potholes are in Luanda - they should first sort out the roads and then ask us to pay," he added. Drivers who get their documents in order are provided with an orange sticker; those who don't say that dodging into side streets is the best way to avoid traffic police, who impose heavy fines or ask for bribes. For Ana, this government measure is no different to others before it, because it hits the country's poorest the hardest. "Our leaders keep on telling us that they are going to make our lives better. But instead of helping us, they make things more difficult."