More women quit corporate jobs to drive taxis

Taxi driver Mary Namunyak during an interview in Nairobi on March 12, 2025.

Photo credit: Francis Nderitu | Nation Media Group

In Nairobi’s fast-growing ride-hailing economy, a quiet revolution is unfolding—one marked by resilience, courage, and a fierce hunger for independence.

Kenyan women, many of them mothers and former corporate professionals, are increasingly turning to Uber and other ride-hailing platforms to make ends meet, steer their families through harsh financial times and claim a kind of job freedom they never thought possible.

Far from being mere passengers in Kenya’s economic engine, these women are in the driver’s seat—sometimes quite literally—navigating potholes both literal and systemic. They grapple with fluctuating taxi rates, opaque commissions, and a saturated market. Yet they remain undeterred.

BDLife spoke with three women who say they never waited for an opportunity to knock, they are chasing it down, one ride at a time.

Accidental driver with big dreams

Margaret Kinyua never set out to be an Uber driver. Her entry into the ride-hailing world was more serendipitous than strategic.

Back in 2019, she was struggling to make ends meet with her small clothing business. One day, her friend who did not know how to drive asked for a favour—and she's never looked back.

"She asked me to drive her Uber car, and that is how I got intrigued by driving as a way of earning money," she says.

For six years now, Margaret has been part of Nairobi’s gig economy, weaving her work around school runs and household chores.

“The flexibility keeps me going. I log in when I’m ready and log out when I need to pick up my children,” says the 38-year-old mother of three.

Her youngest child is now independent enough to get to school on his own, and her oldest can take care of themselves too when she is away.

The best part of being an Uber driver is the independence. “I don’t have anyone hovering over me. I can work whenever I want, and the money goes directly into my pocket to pay the bills,” she says.

But driving in 2025 is a different game than it was in 2019. “Back then, the business was booming. Today, there are too many drivers and fewer clients. It’s becoming difficult to even make three trips a day,” Margaret laments.

In addition, her car was involved in an accident, and she now rents the car she drives at Sh1,500 per day.

One of the concerns for female taxi drivers is safety and Margaret says, “I consider myself an Iron Lady. I’ve never had issues with harassment or safety. I mostly work during the day.”

While she enjoys the independence and being able to juggle parenting, she does not romanticise the hustle.

Margaret Kinyua during an interview in Nairobi on March 13, 2025.

Photo credit: Billy Ogada | Nation Media Group

“My daughter complains that I work too hard sometimes, but my sons are very motivated. They already know how to drive, and they’re motivated by me. But I plan to quit Uber by 45. I had my children when I was young, so by 45, I’ll only have one child staying at home. I won’t have to be driving around town anymore. Driving around town can also be stressful for lots of women. It’s tough,” she adds.

But as earnings dwindle, she is looking at other options.

“I want to move to Dubai and drive taxis there. The pay is better, and they provide food and lodging. Here, I’m spending from my own pocket for everything,” she says.

Her advice to aspiring female drivers is candid: “If you can, buy your own car. Financing one makes it hard to break even. And Uber needs to review its pricing. Right now, it barely sustains us.”

From corporate casualty to school transport entrepreneur

When Mary Namunyak lost her corporate job in early 2023, she faced a frightening question: What next? After 13 years in customer service and sales in the telecommunications sector, she suddenly found herself unemployed and a single mother.

Rather than wallow, she recalibrated. With a personal car at her disposal, Mary got her PSV badge, passed vehicle inspections and started driving for Uber. But she didn’t stop there.

“I realised there was a niche for school transport in my estate. With over 160 houses around, parents were happy to entrust a female driver with their children,” Mary says. Her tailored school-run services allowed her to be home every evening and all weekend with her daughter.

For Mary, Uber became more than just a ride-hailing job—it became a platform for entrepreneurship. “I created a community taxi service outside the app. This side gig pays better than online rides. As much as the Uber money wasn’t enough to cover all of her bills at times, it was able to cover the must-pay bills.”

Uber also gave her the flexibility her previous job never allowed. “I can decide when to rest. I can wake up and decide not to go anywhere. I take two days off. Sundays are sacred—I spend them entirely with my daughter,” she explains.

While her daughter now prefers taking the school bus over riding with younger children, Mary continues to shape a schedule around their lives.

Security is a constant concern, though. Mary refuses to carry drunk passengers and handles interactions with law enforcement cautiously. “You have to be professional. Set boundaries. Don’t let them get too comfortable,” she says.

Looking ahead, she hopes to expand her school transport business and even hire drivers. “I believe in digitising everything. The future is online. We just need to be bold enough to take risks.”

Still, she believes Uber—and the industry—must do more to support women. “Better pay, safer conditions, and listening to driver feedback would go a long way. Especially for women working late nights.”

Her car, a Toyota Passo, which she bought two years ago, cost her Sh800,000.

Environmentalist turned serial entrepreneur

Dorine Oyugi is many things: an environmentalist, an Airbnb host, and a full-time Uber driver. At 30, she has crafted a career mosaic that allows her to earn a living while pursuing her passions.

Her journey began with burnout. “I had a toxic boss, and I worked night shifts for American clients. I needed an exit plan—Uber became that plan,” she says.

Taxi Driver Dorine Oyugi during an interview in Nairobi on March 12, 2025.

Photo credit: Francis Nderitu | Nation Media Group

She started part-time, balancing corporate hours with early-morning trips. By 2024, she committed full-time to Uber driving. Her days start at 5 am, and she is done by 3 or 4 pm. Many of her clients are regulars, including a woman she ferries to the hospital twice a week.

Dorine holds a degree in Environmental Science from Kenyatta University and still takes on environmental consultancy gigs. “Driving gives me time to work on reports or environmental assessments. It’s a balance,” she says.

Despite her confidence now, entering a male-dominated field was not easy. “I was afraid at first. I’ve faced harassment and body shaming, but I’ve learned to handle it,” she says.

Safety is non-negotiable—she shares her location with her fiancé when working late or driving in unfamiliar areas.

The financial rewards can be compelling. On good days, she earns Sh4,000 to Sh6,000, and up to Sh100,000 a month during peak periods. “The difference between this and a corporate job? Freedom,” Dorine says. “I can run my other businesses and still make a decent living.”

Like Mary, she drives a Toyota Passo which she bought last year for Sh900,000.

She runs Airbnbs in Nairobi’s Mirema Drive, Racecourse Gardens and Tsavo Fedha, and manages everything—from booking to airport pickups.

“Some clients prefer hotels, so I also help with reservations and transfers. It’s about creating a full-service experience,” she says.

While driving for Uber is convenient, it also has its disadvantages. Some days are exhausting, especially when trying to meet financial targets. Dorine puts in long hours to get the job done, sometimes more than 12 hours.

For taxi drivers, the road is never smooth. Fuel prices rise. Commissions bite. Clients cancel. Algorithms don’t explain themselves. However, for women drivers, these challenges are magnified by societal expectations, childcare duties, and gender bias.

Yet they persist. “We are not just women behind the wheel. We are architects of our own lives,” Dorine says.

Her advice for aspiring women in the gig economy? “Just do it, scared. People will always have opinions, but once you take the leap, you’ll find your strength.”

PAYE Tax Calculator

Note: The results are not exact but very close to the actual.