Beirut's servees, the shared taxis that are the most common form of public transport in the capital, have raised the usual fare from 200,000 to 300,000 Lebanese lira. The increase followed a government fuel tax in February, nine days before the Iran war began, and passengers are switching to cheaper motorcycle taxis. The National report
Fuel and the shared fare
According to the Syndicate of Gas Station Owners, fuel prices have nearly doubled since the tax, after the war disrupted shipments from Gulf producers. A fare of 200,000 lira is about $2.20. The monthly minimum wage is $300.
From Ras Al Nabaa to Jisr Al Wati, a motorcycle taxi booked through a ride-hailing app cost 200,000 lira, cheaper and faster than flagging a cab and haggling. Some servees drivers now ask 400,000 lira or more. Ibrahim, waiting at the Cola intersection, still charges 300,000 lira.
On two wheels
Adam, who drives a Nissan Sunny, takes almost any passenger, including offers below 200,000 lira. "A lot of customers can't afford the fare, so they offer 200,000 lira ($2.20) or less. People won't ride if the price is too high." He cannot afford to turn fares down, and after hours on the road he sometimes barely breaks even.
Moussa, a paramedic in his thirties, has given up driving himself to appointments in Clemenceau, a neighbourhood known for its gridlock. A fill-up that cost him $45 now costs almost $90 to $100, sometimes more. He sends his pickup location to a dispatcher on WhatsApp. "Motorcycle taxis are cheaper and more economical considering how much petrol prices have risen recently. Everyone is trying to save money."
A decade ago it was rare for a woman to ride pillion with a stranger. The crisis that began in 2019, which the World Bank has described as among the worst in modern history, locked depositors out of their savings. The national currency lost more than 98 per cent of its value against the US dollar.
The red plate
A red number plate, the licence to operate a taxi, costs about $16,000, before the car itself. Some drivers rent a licensed taxi and pay the owner about $20 a day. Petrol at these prices leaves no room to cut the fare.
Ibrahim's complaint is that a motorcycle can take the same passengers without that outlay. "Someone with a cheap motorcycle comes along, picks up passengers and drives off like he's a taxi. It's not safe. It's not legal. If there's an accident, there's no insurance or anything. Our cars cost money. We have to repair them, we work hard and we still can't make ends meet."
Private cars on white plates are working as taxis too, through ride-hailing apps and WhatsApp groups.
Wael uses a motorcycle in the daytime and his licensed taxi at night. The bike uses less petrol, is easier in traffic and fits in more trips, so the daytime work pays better. At night, lighter traffic, airport runs and Beirut's nightlife make the taxi the more workable option. He belongs to two WhatsApp groups that arrange motorcycle rides, each with more than 350 riders. "I'd be making a lot more money as a taxi driver if it weren't for the motorcycle competition. They're taking half our business. But I don't think they're the problem. It's the state, which has done nothing to regulate the taxi-motos or fix the economy. People are turning to motorcycles because they have to, not because they want to endanger themselves."
Asaad, another motorcycle taxi rider, sees regulation as the best outcome. "Because motorcycle taxis aren't going away. They're the future."
Motorcycles weave around potholes and through traffic, rarely with a helmet, and often through red lights. Beyond the occasional crackdown on unregistered bikes, the government has done little to regulate the trade.