By Mackie M. Jalloh
For thousands of motorbike riders, keke operators, and private bike owners across Freetown, survival is increasingly dictated not by fuel prices or road conditions, but by the unchecked power of a single company. An investigation into Sierra Leone’s two- and three-wheel transport sector reveals how Shalimar Trading Company’s exclusive control over TVS motorbikes and spare parts has created a monopoly that is suffocating livelihoods, distorting prices, and quietly bleeding the country’s informal transport economy.
From the congested streets of Central Freetown to the crowded settlements of the East and the expanding communities of the West, frustration is raw and widespread. Riders interviewed describe a market where prices are imposed, not negotiated; where alternatives are virtually nonexistent; and where complaints fall into a regulatory vacuum.
In the eastern part of Freetown, at Calaba Town and Wellington, keke operators say spare parts that once cost a few hundred leones now sell for two or three times their previous value. “If your keke breaks down now, you panic,” said Abu Kamara, a keke rider in Wellington. “A single part can take everything you made in a week. We are working just to repair, not to live.”
In Kissy Road and Upgun, riders told similar stories. Ibrahim Sesay, a commercial bike rider, said buying a new TVS motorbike has become nearly impossible without debt. “Before, you could plan and buy. Now, even with savings, the price shocks you. Shalimar controls everything—bikes, parts, even who supplies the shops.”
In central Freetown, around PZ and Wilberforce, private bike owners echoed the same concerns. One civil servant who uses a bike for daily commuting said routine maintenance has turned into a financial burden. “You walk into a shop knowing you have no choice. It’s TVS or nothing. The prices are fixed somewhere above us, and we all suffer.”
The investigation shows that Shalimar Trading Company is the sole authorised distributor of TVS motorbikes and genuine spare parts in Sierra Leone. While exclusivity agreements are not illegal by default, the absence of effective regulation has allowed this monopoly to operate without price controls, competitive checks, or consumer safeguards. Multiple spare-parts dealers interviewed, speaking on condition of anonymity, confirmed that they buy directly or indirectly from Shalimar-linked supply chains. “We don’t set the prices,” one dealer admitted. “We only add small margins to survive.”
This concentration of market power has far-reaching consequences. Motorbikes and kekes are not luxury items; they are essential infrastructure in a country where public transport is unreliable and many communities are poorly connected. When spare parts become unaffordable, bikes stay off the road. When bikes stay off the road, transport fares rise, goods become more expensive, and access to work, school, and healthcare is disrupted.
In western Freetown, at Goderich and Lumley, riders said the situation is forcing some out of business entirely. “I parked my bike for two months,” said Mohamed Conteh, a rider in Lumley. “I couldn’t afford the parts. If you borrow money, you spend years paying it back.”
Despite the scale of the crisis, regulatory silence is conspicuous. There has been no public intervention from competition authorities, no pricing review, and no clear consumer protection response. Transport unions complain privately but say they lack leverage against a powerful importer with deep commercial influence.
Economists warn that such monopolies, when left unchecked, distort markets and deepen poverty. “This is a textbook case of market failure,” said one local economic analyst. “Without competition or oversight, the cost is transferred directly to the poorest operators.”
Shalimar Trading Company has not publicly addressed these concerns. Attempts to obtain comment on pricing policies, profit margins, and distributorship terms were unsuccessful by press time.
For now, riders continue to absorb the shock, day after day. Their demand is simple: break the monopoly, open the market, and restore fairness. Until that happens, Sierra Leone’s transport lifeline remains hostage to a single corporate gatekeeper—one whose business practices are increasingly seen not as enterprise, but as exploitation.
