Who wants to kill the habal-habal?
By Rene S. Santiago
ACROSS the Philippines, the humble habal-habal — those two-wheeled lifelines threading through dirt roads and mountain trails — has become the most accessible ride for millions. But this unsung hero of rural mobility is now staring down a legislative guillotine. House Bill No. 10242, the 19th Congress’ consolidated attempt at regulation, nearly crossed the finish line. Had it passed, this “chariot of the masses” would’ve slipped into the shadows — to be hunted by those who wear uniforms.
The bill sought to brand habal-habal as a public utility needing a franchise — to be regulated by the same bureaucracy that mangled the country’s public transport system. Fueling the bill is a misguided belief that the ordinary Filipino cannot be trusted to do what is right in their personal lives.
A SYMBOL OF FILIPINO RESILIENCE (AND IMPROVISATION)
It had its humble origins, more than 20 years ago, as a ride-share on the dusty roads of Mindanao. It then spread to the Visayas and evolved into a for-hire business. Only when it invaded Metro Manila streets under the guise of Ride Hailing Apps (RHAs) that this “trusty steed, a motorcycle of humble breed” invited the ire of control freaks. It was not their creation; a middle finger pointed at them.
The lack of mobility options and employment opportunities fueled its rapid growth as a popular mode of travel. A product of Filipino resilience and government’s neglect, albeit not unique to the Philippines. Xe-om in Vietnam, Ojek in Indonesia, Motodop in Cambodia, Motor-sai rap chang in Thailand, Okada in Nigeria, Boda-boda in Kenya, and Moto-taxis in Latin America. A two-wheeled improvised public transport with many names and variations. None of the countries succeeded in regulating this mode of transport. Not even Vietnam, whose institutions are far more effective than the fumbling hands of the Philippines’ bureaucracy.
While legislators deliberate over franchises and frameworks, a two-wheeled savior climbs a muddy incline in Bukidnon — with no license, no applause, and no alternative in sight.
HOW MANY ARE THERE?
Hard to say, because they are not supposed to exist. The official data on registered number of motorcycles (MCs) showed 8.71m in 2024. That is odd. From 2015 to 2024, the domestic producers of MCs reported sales totaling 14m, against 19.9m new MC registrations — implying imports at 5.9m. Add that to the starting base of 4.9m in 2015, and you get 19M (not 8.7m) by 2024, assuming no attrition. For the numbers to make sense, at least one in 4.4 MCs is being “retired” every year. That runs counter to the Filipino’s penchant to use and re-use vehicles as long as possible, but jives with neglect of non-renewal of registrations. My guess: about 5m MCs are “missing.”
At 8.71m, MCs comprised 60% of total MVs; most probably 70% if the missing 5m+ is included. Tricycles is the segment of MC class equipped with sidecars. They function as the main public transport in more than 1,500 (out of 1,600+) local government units (LGUs) of the Philippines.
With a low density of 123 MCs per 1,000 population (vs Indonesia’s 466), MCs in the Philippines has plenty of room to grow.
URBAN-RURAL DIVIDE
To regulate or not to regulate? That is the question.
Many developing countries tried, failed, then retreated. The Philippines is doing the opposite, fantasizing success where others have failed.
By regulation, we mean the economic kind that entails franchising, fare control, and the like. An outmoded model that the Land Transportation Franchising and Regulatory Board (LTFRB) considers sacred. Not unlike requiring all food establishments selling hamburgers to secure a permit from a government-owned McDonalds or Jollibee.
Outside of “imperial” Manila, there is overwhelming support for habal-habal. No strident call to franchise, control, much less ban, the service. An accidental business that has carved out a loyal clientele outside the traditional modes, in some cases easing out the jeepneys. To reign in a sector that dares to rise without its imprimatur, the government created a faceless technical committee (aka Technical Working Group or TWG) — ostensibly to study and formulate a response to the mode. Had a TWG done its homework, it would have peered into the economic theory of regulation and conceded that government’s proffered hand is unnecessary, and futile. There is no problem to fix. No doubt riding a motorbike is risky, but requiring a franchise would simply escalate the risk into a cat-and-mouse game that would ensue on the streets.
THE BASICS OF REGULATION
By no stretch of imagination can habal-habal fit into the mold of a monopoly business or characterized with increasing economies of scale. Therefore, it should not be franchised, like electric or water utilities. Why require an extra layer of permit for a MC owner to earn an extra buck?
To be effective, economic regulation should be able to do: screen out the bad from the good, monitor performance, resolve complaints easily and rapidly, enable 2-way feedback between customers and sellers. A tall order for any government agency, especially for a digitally challenged agency. And yet, most of these functions are already being performed — by RHAs (like Angkas, Grab, MoveIt, and Joyride), albeit limited so far to urban areas. And RHAs can offer much more — if only the government does not stand in the way.
WHAT SHOULD (AND CAN) THE GOVERNMENT DO?
Do not interfere. Let the market work its magic. It has been so in the last three decades, and users and providers are none the worse. Regulating them as envisaged under HB#10242 will force millions of habal-habal to go underground. Road safety will worsen, rather than improve.
A big help is to remove its legal ambiguity — by rescinding a provision against it under an archaic law (RA#4136). Or treat MC-Tx as a private business that also serves the public. It is impossible to tax and would shrink naturally when Filipinos get better jobs and better public transit.
But if the government wants to strut its “big brother” cred, it could take a cue from Maribojoc, in Bohol that enacted in 2005 a velvet-glove ordinance for habal-habal. Or from self-help habal-habal association in a barangay in Bukidnon. Or from Cebu City, which enacted an ordinance on habal-habal in July 2024. After all, it is a form of local public transport mode that is best left to LGUs who are already performing that role over the sibling of MC-Tx, the tricycles-for-hire.
CONCLUSION
The habal-habal has outlasted neglect, outwitted regulation. It thrives not because it’s sanctioned, but because it is essential — woven into the daily lives of Filipinos whom planners forgot. Whether the government deems it legitimate or not, it will keep running. No law can erase what necessity breeds.
And as for public transport “modernization”? It is comatose hooked up to press releases. The supposed flagship is floundering under the care of interns masquerading as reformists. Ten more years won’t fix it. The people ride what works. And what works wears no franchise.
Rene S. Santiago is an international consultant on transport development, past president of the Transportation Science Society of the Philippines, and fellow of the Foundation for Economic Freedom and the Philippines Institute of Civil Engineers.
