MARAWI CITY, Philippines — When the Marawi City government rolled out its Tricycle Coding Scheme on July 28, 2025, the intention was clear: tame the gridlock that chokes the city’s narrow streets, where more than 1,000 registered tricycles and countless motorcycles vie for space each day. The plan seemed sensible on paper—assign each vehicle a colored sticker that dictates the days it may operate:
| Color | Allowed Days |
| Red | Monday, Wednesday |
| Blue | Tuesday, Thursday |
| All Colors | Friday, Saturday, Sunday |
What the city did not anticipate was how the schedule would intersect with the lives of internally displaced persons (IDPs) who rely on tricycle driving as their sole source of income. For many, the color of a sticker now determines whether a family eats a full meal or goes hungry.
A Day Off the Road Means a Day Without Bread
Ali Macausur, 70 years old, has lived in the Barangay Buganga Temporary Shelter since the 2017 Marawi Siege forced his family from their home. Before the coding scheme, he could drive his tricycle every weekday, pulling in an average 700 in gross earnings per day. Now, the red stickered tricycle he operates can only run Monday and Wednesday, cutting his potential workdays in half.
“Because the rule says we only get to travel every other day on the weekdays, we only have four days every week to earn money,” Macausur explained, his voice tinged with resignation.
His daily cash flow looks roughly like this:
| Expense | Amount (?) |
| Tricycle rent | 200 |
| Gasoline | 150 |
| Rice (basic staple) | 210 |
| Net remaining | 140 |
That 140 barely covers baby formula, diapers, and school fees. The family supplements meals with garden greens, but the nutrition gap is stark. “Only the greens in our garden are paired with rice to make a meal,” he adds.
Families Forced to Sell Their Livelihood
For Norolain Sobair, the coding scheme pushed his household to a breaking point. With a blue stickered tricycle, he could only work Tuesday and Thursday. The reduced income forced him to sell his tricycle, hoping to stretch whatever cash remained.
“We would sometimes survive on debt, even just for rice, so the children won’t go hungry. It has come to the point where our motorcycle can’t even make trips anymore—we’re just waiting for whenever there’s income,” Sobair said, eyes downcast.
His story mirrors that of many IDP families who, after selling their primary asset, scramble for odd hour jobs that pay far less and offer no stability.
Larger Households, Lesser Food
Amina Amer heads a household of ten. With a red stickered tricycle, she can only work Monday and Wednesday, leaving her with barely enough to purchase low quality rice. She saves ?30 each week to buy a modest side dish, but the bulk of the family’s calories still come from the cheap grain.
“What we want is for that (tricycle coding) to go away so that those who are struggling, especially those with large families, can work properly,” Amer pleaded.
Her plea underscores a broader inequity: the coding scheme does not differentiate between a single parent with one child and a ten member household that depends on the same daily earnings.
A Mixed Reception Among Drivers
Not every driver condemns the policy. Ali, a 22 year old who has been driving for three years, finds a silver lining. On days when traffic is heaviest—typically Monday through Thursday—the coding reduces the number of tricycles on the road, saving him fuel costs and decreasing wear on his vehicle.
“When there are fewer tricycles, the traffic eases, and I spend less on gasoline,” he notes, highlighting a genuine benefit for some operators,” Ali said.
Still, even supporters acknowledge that the scheme’s one size fits all approach fails to accommodate the unique hardships of IDPs.
Macausur, despite his age and the strain on his family, insists that strict monitoring is essential. He reports that some drivers flout the color code, operating on prohibited days and gaining an unfair advantage over those who obey the rules.
“We sacrifice and follow the schedule, yet there are still those who disobey. The city needs tighter enforcement and perhaps a revision that considers the livelihood of displaced families,” he urges.
Community leaders and NGOs echo his sentiment, proposing flexible permits for IDP households, subsidized fuel vouchers, or a sliding scale that aligns operating days with family size and economic need.
Looking Ahead
Marawi’s Tricycle Coding Scheme was born out of a legitimate desire to unclog streets and improve commuter safety. Yet, for the city’s most vulnerable—IDPs still grappling with the aftermath of the 2017 siege—the policy has become a daily calculus of survival. As the city evaluates the scheme’s impact, policymakers face a crucial question: How can traffic management coexist with the basic right to food and livelihood?
Until a balanced solution emerges, families like the Macausurs, Sobairs, and Amers will continue to watch the colors of their tricycle stickers, hoping that the next hue brings not just a cleared road, but a fuller plate. (davaotoday.com)
