As the general strikes and blockades rage on, rickshaws reign supreme on Dhaka streets. A large part of the character of Dhaka city has always come from its rickshaws. They are part of our brand.
Rickshaws and the artwork that adorn them exert tremendous fascination over many, especially foreigners, with an interest in all things ethno-chic. They have a reputation for being simple, green, and aesthetically pleasing, in contrast to the gas-guzzling automobiles that serve the global corporate nexus. Rickshaw art is now its own legitimate genre, with well-off people showcasing them on their coffee tables.
That particular image of the rickshaw is a nicely packaged one. Although Bangladesh certainly was not the birthplace of the rickshaw (it is well known that the origin of the name is Japanese), it is one of those things we have no qualms about claiming as truly Bangalee, along with the hilsa, the Jamdani sari and the Fazli mango.
But for those of us who live in this chaotic metropolis, the romance of it all has to be set aside while we try to get to work, school, or to see the doctor. With crude bombs and Molotov cocktails being tossed indiscriminately at cars, buses and other engined vehicles, rickshaws have become the preferred mode of transportation for many people in the city.
Even those not so accustomed with these rickety rides are getting used to hopping on. The nation is choking from a political crisis that shows no signs of coming to an end, and not showing up for work is simply not an option.
The rickshaw is not a very fast-evolving creature. Even those with far-reaching memories of our city will tell you that, since the origin of cycle rickshaws up until the present day, there have been few, if any, structural changes.
Here’s the basic arrangement. The sweaty, lungi-clad rickshaw puller pedals while sitting on a plastic seat. Up to two passengers legitimately sit in the back. A hood, which was not designed with basketball players in mind, may be pulled up in the event of rain or too much sun.
Sometimes three passengers will get on. That is not the most comfortable kind of ride for the passengers, and is certainly hard on the puller, but is understandable for short distances, and when the group is hard to break in half. Four passengers hopping on a single rickshaw, however, is inexcusable, though it is seen on our roads often enough.
Finally, the rickshaw is fragile and risky. It is so light that the slightest knock from any sort of beefier vehicle could send it flying into space. The rickshaw-puller and passenger both take chances with their lives every time they get on. If a four-wheeler hits you from behind with any momentum whatsoever, that’s the end of that rickshaw, and possibly you.
And there’s not much you can do about it. Maybe this was not a problem in Japan in the beginning of the 20th century, when there weren’t many punk kids on the road with the tendency to step on the gas a little too hard.
In 21st century Dhaka though, this has become an issue. Our roads have changed (for the worse). The number of people, hence number of cars, has changed (for the worse). And yet, in all this time, the rickshaw has not evolved beyond its flimsy origins: tough on the puller, dangerous for both puller and passenger.
Until now. The humble, analog rickshaw has evolved by merging with battery-powered machinery. These new cyborgical rickshaws, seen in increasing numbers on the streets of Dhaka, significantly reduce the exertion required by the rickshaw-pullers. But in that case, why did this development take so long to happen?
It is probably because, in spite of looking pretty nifty at first glance, it is a horrible idea. This is evolution for the worse. The rickshaw needs to backtrack and revert to its organic form, because we have screwed it all up.
These battery-wheelers are much more susceptible to accidents than regular ones because of their flawed design. A rickshaw is meant to be pedalled manually, so it can go at 5km to 10km per hour at most. Even though its structure makes it vulnerable at any speed, when a battery-mechanism propels the thing forward at four times the speed that its structure should ever be moving, the rickshaw is well and truly out of its element.
The puller, no matter how skilled, is unable to control the rickshaw. There are no brakes adequate for this kind of speed. The risk of accidents is thus extremely high. So much for a newer model.
There is a ban on this type of rickshaw as there should be. But unfortunately, as with many other things on our roads, a ban only means another opportunity for law enforcers to get their palms greased. Meanwhile, commuters continue to gamble with their lives because they really don’t have a choice.
Change is good, and technology should be making our lives easier. Innovations are seen everywhere, every year, from cars to fighter jets to bicycles. There is no reason our very own rickshaw should be left out. But we should do it properly, with a little more thought.
We should increase our safety, not reduce it. Our engineers could think about a speed limit on the engines, for example. That would make life easier for the rickshaw-puller without raising the risk level. If we’re going to use technology to move forward, let’s at least do it a bit more carefully.