Governing Informal Mobility in Luanda: Taxis, Urban Expansion and Everyday Access to the city

In the sprawling cities of the Global South, the way people move is often a story of adaptation rather than perfect planning. When a city grows faster than its roads, buses, or government budgets can handle, a gap opens up between where people live and where they need to go. In these spaces, informal transport systems emerge. These are not official, state-run bus lines with fixed schedules and printed timetables. Instead, they are networks of privately owned vehicles—minibuses, shared cars, and motorcycles—that operate outside strict government control. They fill the void, picking up passengers where formal services stop, charging fares based on demand, and navigating routes that official maps might not even show. For millions of urban residents, these vehicles are not a temporary fix or a sign of failure; they are the primary engine of daily life, connecting neighborhoods to jobs, schools, and hospitals. Understanding how these systems work, and how governments try to manage them, reveals a great deal about how modern African cities function, survive, and evolve.

This story plays out vividly in Luanda, the capital of Angola. Since the end of a long civil war in 2002, the city has exploded in size, swallowing up vast new territories and absorbing a massive influx of people from the countryside. The official public transport system, however, remained small, irregular, and unable to keep pace with this rapid expansion. Into this gap stepped the informal taxi. Today, the city's mobility relies almost entirely on a fleet of blue-and-white minibuses, motorcycle taxis, and small neighborhood cars. A new study by researcher Sónia Frias, based on fieldwork conducted between 2022 and 2025, argues that these vehicles are not merely a stopgap measure waiting to be replaced. Instead, they are a permanent, essential layer of the city's infrastructure, as vital as the roads themselves.

To understand the reality of this system, the researcher did not just look at laws or statistics. She spent time riding in these taxis, talking to drivers, fare collectors, and passengers. She observed the daily rhythm of the city, noting how people navigate the distance between their homes in the periphery and their workplaces in the center. She found that for many residents, the taxi is the only way to access the city. One passenger, a woman living in a neighborhood called Maculusso, explained that even though her hospital job was nearby, she could not walk to it. Her children also relied on taxis to get to school. Without these vehicles, she noted, the city would simply stop. The buses provided by the government were often too slow, too infrequent, or simply did not go where people needed to be. For the people of Luanda, the choice was not between a perfect system and an imperfect one; it was between a system that worked and no system at all.

The study reveals that these informal taxis do more than just move people; they organize the city. They create corridors of movement that link distant, hard-to-reach settlements to the bustling center. They connect new urban developments like Kilamba and Talatona to older neighborhoods. Along these routes, small businesses, street vendors, and waiting areas spring up, turning the taxi path into a social and economic artery. The flexibility of these drivers allows them to respond instantly to changing needs, picking up passengers in areas where a large, rigid bus could never turn around. In this sense, the drivers and their vehicles act as a form of living infrastructure, weaving together a city that official planning has left fragmented.

However, this system exists in a state of constant tension. The government of Angola has tried to regulate the sector through laws, licenses, and police enforcement. The intention is to bring order, safety, and professionalism to the streets. Yet, the drivers and their associations often experience these rules not as helpful guidelines, but as tools of punishment and extraction. They face frequent fines, arbitrary stops by police, and demands for money, all while the roads they drive on remain full of potholes and in disrepair. One driver described the situation simply: the state wants their money but does not fix the roads or help them work. This creates a cycle of distrust. Drivers feel the government cares more about collecting fees than about the safety of the passengers or the well-being of the workers.

Despite this pressure, the informal sector is far from passive. The drivers and collectors have organized themselves into powerful associations, such as the New Alliance of Taxi Drivers Association of Angola. These groups serve as a safety net for their members, providing support when a driver dies, when a vehicle breaks down, or when a family needs help. They also act as a political voice. When fuel prices rise or working conditions worsen, these associations can mobilize quickly. In July 2025, they called a three-day national strike that brought parts of the city to a standstill, demonstrating that the informal transport sector holds significant power. If the taxis stop, the city stops. This leverage forces the government to the negotiating table, even if the relationship remains fraught with conflict.

The research suggests that the solution to Luanda's mobility challenges lies not in trying to eliminate the informal taxis and replace them with a purely formal system. The paper argues that viewing these drivers as illegal or temporary is a mistake. They are a durable part of the city's urban fabric. The path forward requires a shift in how the government sees them. Instead of treating them as criminals to be policed, authorities need to recognize them as legitimate partners in urban life. This means moving beyond simple punishment and engaging in dialogue. It involves creating regulations that improve safety and labor conditions without destroying the flexibility that makes the system work. It means acknowledging that the drivers are not just moving people from point A to point B; they are sustaining the social and economic life of the entire metropolis.

Ultimately, the story of Luanda's taxis is a story of how people build a city when the official blueprint is incomplete. The drivers, the passengers, and the associations have created a complex, resilient system that keeps the city moving. They have filled the gaps left by the state, not out of rebellion, but out of necessity. The study concludes that for Luanda to become a more inclusive and accessible city, its leaders must stop trying to force the informal sector into a mold that does not fit. Instead, they must learn to govern with the system as it is, recognizing that the informal taxis are not a problem to be solved, but a vital part of the city's identity and survival.