Living in a suburban village located in one of the small roads on the island with an airstrip, I often encounter eco-friendly, disaster-waiting-to-happen, three-wheeled vehicles we affectionately call ‘trisikads’. If you think motorized vehicles that weave in and out of our busy main roads is scary, try going home in the evenings, traversing poorly lit roads and encountering trisikads that have no early detection devices whatsoever.
Don’t get me wrong though, these rolling, human-powered vehicles are one of the most convenient modes of transportation. In areas where the government lacked foresight and built roads the size of yeti footpaths, riding a trisikad to get to the regular-sized roads is relatively safer than walking on these sidewalk-less footpaths. On the tree-hugger side, this mode of transport burns zero fossil fuel. They run on one ice-water plastic per kilometer. Plus, a trisikad unit is affordable and making it an income-generating venture for our marginal-income brethren is easy.
These are the up side. Now, for the down side.
Trisikads are so affordable that, despite ordinances and regulations, they number more than the actual figures allowed. An area that’s supposed to have thirty trisikads, at most, would have triple that number.
But shouldn’t having more eco-friendly trisikads be good? No! And here are the reasons why:
First, not all trisikad drivers are well-versed in road safety rules and regulations. Many times, trisikad drivers make sudden u-turns, run counter to traffic flow or just suddenly stop in the middle of the road without regard for oncoming or trailing vehicles. The reason is that many trisikad drivers do not possess the necessary credentials to operate a vehicle. Unbeknownst to many, ordinances have been drafted requiring these drivers to have a professional driver’s license. So, if you see a thirteen year-old kid piloting a trisikad, you can bet your next oil change that kid doesn’t possess a license.
Second, trisikads are not equipped with early-warning devices. Most trisikads do not have lights or reflectors to warn oncoming or trailing vehicles of their presence. This, coupled with poorly-lit roads, drastically increases the risk of figuring in a traffic collision with our ever increasing number of petrol heads who zip by small roads at over 60 kph. Being able to detect a slow-moving obstacle from a distance would allow any motorist to take precautionary measures to avoid collisions.
Lastly, trisikads are not equipped with the necessary safety devices to protect its passengers. Being an open-type cab, the passenger of a trisikad is unprotected in case of a collision. Add to this the absence of a seatbelt, it would be almost comedic, yet tragic, to see the popular video game involving avian animals and a slingshot being replicated by such an incident. Having no pads on the tubes that frame the trisikad’s cab can also cause further injury ranging from minor bruising to contusions.
Despite all these hazards, these eco-friendly death machines faithfully ply our small roads and, at times, boldly venture into open highways to ferry our neighbours and loved-ones to their destinations. The dangers these vehicles pose are doubled by the negligence of the trisikad operators and drivers in obeying existing ordinance and the ineptitude and laxity of the implementation of these ordinances by the overpaid, underworked government employees tasked to do the job.
Unless a fleet of trisikads will figure in a fatal traffic collision and make the front page, this will be considered status quo. And with elections coming up, maybe some desperate politician can use this as a platform for his socio-civic responsibility campaign.