By Mackie M. Jalloh
Across Freetown, frustration among motorbike and keke operators has reached a boiling point, as Shalimar Trading Company’s monopoly over TVS motorbikes and spare parts continues to strangle the livelihoods of thousands. From Calaba Town to Goderich, Wellington to Wilberforce, and Jui to Waterloo, riders describe a system that has turned a once-competitive transport market into a daily trap of debt, rising costs, and financial uncertainty.
Investigations reveal that Shalimar’s control is absolute. Riders report that a new TVS keke now costs more than NLe 75,000 for cash purchases, while loans offered by affiliated dealers push the price well beyond NLe 100,000 once interest is factored in. Spare parts, essential for maintenance, have more than doubled in price over the past year, leaving riders struggling to keep their vehicles operational.
Abu Kamara, a Wellington-based keke operator, described the reality: “One small breakdown can cost more than a week’s earnings. We are repairing to survive, not earning to live. If you borrow to fix it, you spend years paying back.” Riders say they have no alternative suppliers; all parts are “genuine TVS,” meaning the only source is Shalimar’s network, leaving consumers entirely at the mercy of one company’s pricing decisions.
The monopoly has also created a ripple effect across the urban economy. When keke and motorbikes sit idle due to unaffordable maintenance, transport fares rise, goods become more expensive, and access to schools, healthcare, and workplaces suffers. Mohamed Conteh of Lumley said he was forced to park his bike for months: “I couldn’t afford parts. If I borrow to fix it, I’m paying off that debt for years. Sometimes I ask myself if riding is even worth it anymore.”
Dealers operating under Shalimar’s supply chain confirm that they have no autonomy in pricing. One dealer admitted anonymously, “We don’t decide prices. We just add a small margin to survive. The real cost comes from above.” Economists and market analysts argue this is a textbook example of market abuse, where one company’s control harms the most vulnerable, deepens urban poverty, and allows a single firm to dictate the cost of mobility in the city.
Regulators have been silent. Transport unions, though sympathetic, acknowledge that they have little leverage against Shalimar’s entrenched dominance. Consumers and operators alike say the government and competition authorities have failed to act, allowing the monopoly to persist unchallenged.
Riders are now calling for urgent government intervention: open up the market to competing importers, regulate pricing for essential parts, and dismantle the monopoly that has kept operators in debt traps. Without action, the public warns, Freetown’s informal transport sector risks collapse, leaving thousands without reliable mobility and basic livelihoods.
Shalimar Trading Company has remained silent in the face of mounting criticism. Repeated requests for comment on pricing practices, profit margins, and exclusivity arrangements were ignored. To riders and consumers, that silence speaks volumes: one company’s profit is being prioritized over the survival of thousands of workers and the affordability of transport in Sierra Leone.
For now, operators continue to work longer hours for shrinking earnings, while the company that controls their bikes, parts, and credit looms over their every move—a monopoly with no checks, no competition, and no regard for the human cost.