Ride-sharing in Nepal: Perceptions and policy needs

I’m tired of playing price roulette every morning.

Last week, my Pathao ride from Jadibuti to college (Kumarimati)  cost Rs 175. The next day? 115. Same route, same time, sixty rupees difference. That’s two cups of Tea I could’ve had. As a graduate student in Kathmandu, where every rupee counts, these unpredictable fares aren't just numbers—they’re meals skipped, books not bought, or coffee dates postponed.

The ride-sharing companies—Pathao, InDrive, and others—talk about ‘surge pricing’ and ‘dynamic rates’ like they’re doing us a favor. But let’s be real: they’re taking advantage of our desperation. When public buses are packed like sardine cans and taxis charge whatever they want, we're stuck playing their game.

But the pricing chaos is just the beginning.

The other day, I booked a ride and noticed something odd—the bike that pulled up had a different number plate than what my app showed. The driver acted like it was no big deal. Maybe it wasn’t, but after hearing stories about scams and safety issues, I couldn’t help feeling uneasy the whole ride.

And don’t get me started on the peak hour hustle. Drivers have figured out they can make more money by going ‘offline’ during rush hour. They’ll cancel your booking, then offer to take you anyway—for double the price. What choice do you have when you’re running late for an exam?

Some drivers have turned avoiding commission fees into an art form. ‘Sister, cancel the ride’, they’ll say. ‘Pay me cash instead—it’s better for both of us’. Better for whom? Without an official ride record, who’s accountable if something goes wrong?

The government talks about regulations like they’re discussing quantum physics—lots of big words and zero action. Bagmati and Gandaki provinces keep promising new policies, but they’re moving slower than Kathmandu traffic during monsoon season. Meanwhile, transport unions push back, and we students keep paying the price.

Here’s what kills me: ride-sharing could be amazing for Nepal. It could create jobs, ease our traffic nightmare, and give people affordable ways to get around. Instead, we’ve got this mess—where prices change like Kathmandu’s weather, and safety feels optional.

I’m not asking for free rides. None of us are. We just want something basic: knowing how much our ride will cost before we book it. Knowing the person picking us up is actually registered with the company. Not feeling like we're being scammed every time we need to get to class.

To the policymakers reading this: we need rules with teeth. Set some standards for these companies. Make them stick to their prices. Check if drivers are actually who they say they are. And maybe use some of that tax money to give us better public transport options?

Until then, we’ll keep playing this daily game of transport roulette. But remember—behind every surge price and cancelled ride is a student trying to get an education, a worker trying to make a living, or someone just trying to get home safely.

We deserve better than this. And we’re waiting.

Bandana Dahal

Undergraduate student, United College