Monday, 10 November 2014 00:00
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Suppose you are in the middle of a crummy burb of Colombo. Imagine that you need to whisk yourself from where you are stationed to a last-minute client meeting that starts in just under thirty minutes at one of the myriad Cinnamon establishments that pepper the city.
Let us be a tad more specific. Let us say that you don’t have access to your own petrol-guzzler, that you only have a couple of hundred rupees and that you are entirely reliant on our public transport. You stand at the edge of the main street that slices through the crummy place in question, you are dressed to put Don Draper to shame; you are armed, of course, with confidential client documents and you need to emerge at the said destination unruffled and presentable. My question to you is simple: do you think you can make it?
You would, frankly, be forgiven if the very thought leaves your heart racing, eyes bulging and palms clammy. For, such a predicament is bound to leave many a seasoned commuter – especially one familiar with the quintessential hallmarks of life in Colombo - giddy with hazy images of metallic buses, blinking traffic lights and hostile crowds bombarding them from all conceivable angles.
This, my friends, is the brutal fact: public transport in Colombo is very much like a slurping quicksand on a crucial path that, once entered, leaves many resigned to their fate; a disaster that draws in people out of sheer necessity but would never leave them unscathed. In fact, rush hour in the city – the only scenario one needs to witness so as to make a judgement – is an experience unto itself: the mad scramble to get into a bus at every stop; buses, crammed with commuters, racing at an angle that would make the Tower of Pisa smile smugly in contentment; folks, not too dissimilar to angry bees, chasing a departing bus to cling onto whatever they can; and, once inside, being nestled between noisome armpits before blindly worming through an unforgiving crowd to alight at the correct stop.
Imagine going through this nightmare day in, day out for five days a week. Consider the amount of time one wastes in this daily rigmarole. Unfortunately, this is the plight of the tens of thousands who cannot afford tuk-tuks or call-taxis on a daily basis. Slathering salt onto wound, it is, in a way, risible that such a harrowing journey has a fare associated with it - especially one that has been burgeoning in the recent past. What’s worse is also the notion that one can start their day with a fresh perspective after this torment; the struggle and the sweat and the congestion is enough to stamp out the very zest that one naturally feels for life at that time of day.
It is easy for the officials concerned - especially the ones who breeze into their offices in plush imported vehicles - to sneeze at the issue and brush off good public transport as an expendable luxury that is enjoyed only in developed countries - a sort of icing on the cake, with the cake being an advanced economy. Little do they realise that an effective, efficient and affordable public transport system, particularly in a capital city, is akin to the very arteries that carry the essentials around our body; the oxygen that keeps the fire burning, the intricate web that allows spiders to muck about and feed. In essence, it is a key ingredient of a scrumptious cake rather than the icing that simply decorates it.
If the benefits of a good public transport system in Colombo - for example, a mass rapid transport system - had been fully appreciated, it would have probably been one of the first few projects to have been unveiled five years ago when the money, apparently, started pouring in. But what did we do? We dumped nearly $ 450 million into a town - or was it a village? - down south that, frankly, no one gives a monkey’s about.
In fact, if you run the numbers using the Delhi Metro as a comparable, Colombo could have built almost 15 kilometres of route length with that pot of money (it cost Delhi $ 32 million per kilometre). In addition, unlike stadia and conference halls, public transport is an investment that yields immediate and steady returns. For instance Delhi had an operational profit from the very first day.
So what exactly have we missed out on? Research by the American Public Transportation Association suggests that for every $ 10 million of capital invested in public transport, business sales increased by $ 30 million and commuters, in total, saved more than $ 15 million.
Moreover, 47,500 new jobs are said to be created for every billion invested. The tangible economic impact of a sensible investment in public transport is just the tip of the iceberg. Such infrastructure slashes congestion on the streets, reduces pollution, enhances connectivity and improves mobility for the disadvantaged and the elderly.
Thankfully, as tardy as we are, it is not yet a lost cause. As a short term fix, it is imperative to bring about some order to the chaos; some sort of structure to the shambles. A quick comparison with successful systems around the world provides us with a ready-made to-do list: introduce more buses along popular routes, particularly during peak periods, impose regulations to limit the number of people on a bus at any one time, maintain a strict closed-door policy and stick to an agreed timetable, and, finally, put a halt to the perennial racing and honking that goes on. What we should aim for is a single universal service that is both affordable and comfortable.
For the long term, it is of course vital to initiate plans for a mass rapid transport system that is convenient, easy on the wallet and well connected. Given the urgency of the situation, this should be accomplished without succumbing to the warm and fuzzy sensations that might arise out of building glitzy pieces of infrastructure. Prioritising public transport, however drab it may appear in the eyes of the public, would yield handsome dividends in time to come.
A former Mayor of Bogotá, Colombia - rather a wise owl - once quipped that a developed country is not a place where the poor have cars but where the rich use public transport. Well, it is high time that those concerned in Sri Lanka take this to heart. Until then, I am afraid that it is going to be more sweat, struggle and foul armpits.
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www.nandu-rajagopala.com
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