She Picked Up My Ride… And Left Me With a Bigger Question

By Anuoluwapo Oyeniran Yesterday, 6th July 2026, I ordered a ride in Lagos, Nigeria. Like any other day, I expected the app to assign a driver, and I would head to my destination without giving it much thought. But this time was different. The driver was a woman. I paused for a moment. Not because […]

She Picked Up My Ride… And Left Me With a Bigger Question

By Anuoluwapo Oyeniran

Yesterday, 6th July 2026, I ordered a ride in Lagos, Nigeria.

Like any other day, I expected the app to assign a driver, and I would head to my destination without giving it much thought. But this time was different.

The driver was a woman.

I paused for a moment.

Not because there was anything wrong with it, but because, in all my years of using ride-hailing services in Nigeria, I couldn’t remember ever being picked up by a female driver. It was unfamiliar, and I realized my first reaction was skepticism.

Still, I accepted the ride because I needed to get to my destination.

A few minutes later, she arrived. The journey was smooth, professional, and pleasant. By the time I got out of the car, my initial doubts had disappeared. Instead, I was left with something else—a question.

Why are we beginning to see more women behind the wheel of ride-hailing cars?

Is this a sign of progress, where more women are confidently entering industries that were once dominated by men? Is it proof that barriers are gradually being broken?

Or is it a reflection of Nigeria’s difficult economy, where rising living costs, unemployment, and shrinking opportunities are pushing more women to seek income wherever they can find it?

Perhaps the answer isn’t one or the other.

Maybe it’s both.

Across Nigeria, many women are redefining what work looks like. Some are entrepreneurs, artisans, engineers, commercial drivers, delivery riders, and professionals taking on roles that society once considered “men’s jobs.” For some, it’s about independence and opportunity. For others, it’s simply about survival.

What struck me most wasn’t that a woman was driving.

It was that I had unconsciously assumed she wouldn’t be.

That realization made me question not just our economy, but also the assumptions many of us still carry.

Maybe the real conversation isn’t whether women should be ride-hailing drivers. Maybe it’s about understanding the stories behind the steering wheel.

Are these women choosing this path because new opportunities are opening up? Or because the economic reality is leaving them with few alternatives?

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

What do you think explains the growing number of female ride-hailing drivers in Nigeria? Is it empowerment, economic adaptation, a failing system—or a combination of all three?