The Slow Unraveling of Cuenca's Taxi Trade and the Rise of an Underground Alternative

The taxi situation in Cuenca has been a less spoken-of but deeply felt decline of an entire trade, affecting both the quality of life for drivers and the quality of service for residents. Back ten years ago, they were just as needed as they are now, a vital cog in the city's machinery. Yet, something has fundamentally changed.

Despite the boasting from Azutaxi owners and some municipal authorities about the constant "strength" of the taxi driver trade and its sufficient numbers for the city, the reality on the streets tells a different story. Now, during specific peak hours, particularly on Fridays and many holidays, getting a taxi can be an exercise in futility.

I (author) attended a conference about two years ago called "Tech & Tacos," where Juan Naranjo, the majority owner and founder of Azutaxi, presented a long and comprehensive talk on the vision, mission, and values of his platform. When he opened the floor for questions, an individual shared his and his friends' experiences of being unable to find a taxi for hours during peak times, heavy rains, or holidays. He asked if it would be beneficial for Cuenca for Uber to enter the market.

This was a particularly sensitive topic for Juan, who emphatically stated there is no market for Uber in Cuenca, that there are already enough taxis for the demand, and that the city simply doesn't need them. This sentiment is echoed by the formal taxi union, which, as stated by leaders like Bolivar Sucuzhañay, argues that the city's existing 3,700 registered taxis are more than sufficient for the population.

Whether that is true or not, I don’t know, but one thing I have done quite a bit in my 10 years here is talk to taxi drivers. I do remember is that there were rarely very happy drivers, if ever. Many times, when I would ask if taxi driving was their sole source of income, at least 50% of them said no, they had other jobs or a pension, and at least half of them needed another household member to also be earning.

This was not a so frequent back in 2017, as things back then were still "good." Coming to the end of the Correa days, the trickle-down from heavy government spending was still keeping the economy with some oxygen. You still saw new taxi cooperatives form, and the first few began using WhatsApp to communicate swiftly with clients, some even having operators available 24 hours a day. You still saw brand-new vehicles on the road, pointing to either new drivers entering the market or existing ones investing in their trade.

It's hard to say at what point the slowdown of such economic activity became clear, but what is undoubtedly the case is that the taxi fare hasn't had a single change. Researching this, I found that the last modification to the fare was back in 2012. According to Sandra Ochoa from Diario el Universo, this was the highest fare in the entire country at the time: a $1.39 day-rate minimum and $1.67 for the night rate. At some point, by mere "common practice," this became a $1.50 minimum for day trips and $1.75 for night trips. Undoubtedly, that must have represented a really good living for a while.

However, even then, I don't remember nearly any taxi driver who didn't have a story of struggle. Now, the stories are much grimmer. While my subtle interviews are not statistically rigorous, a clear pattern has emerged. Conversations about the economy with drivers almost invariably lead to stories of "not such great times" and "this has been one of the worst years ever," with each year seeming to topple the previous bad record.

Into this environment of stagnant fares, rising costs, and declining driver income, Uber is trying to enter the scene. And it's doing so against a wall of official resistance.

So, what's behind this? Why now? It’s because a clear gap has emerged between the service the official taxi fleet can provide and what the city actually needs. People are willing to take a heavy hit—a $940 USD fine (equivalent to two months' basic wages) and a seven-day vehicle impoundment—to exercise what they see as their right to use their vehicles for a transportation service.

Why can they not formalize their way in? The answer lies in the legal framework. According to the Municipal Transit Company (EMOV), app-based services like Uber and InDriver are not legally permitted to operate in Cuenca. The national Organic Law of Land Transportation, Transit and Road Safety (LOTTTSV) does not recognize these platforms as a legal form of public transport. EMOV's manager, Darío Ordóñez, has been clear that they cannot authorize what the national law prohibits. The only path to legalization would be a reform of that national law, as the local process to create new taxi permits ("cupos") is closed, effectively creating a state-sanctioned monopoly.

This is the crossroads Cuenca finds itself at: a legally protected but struggling taxi industry facing a growing, illegal, but in-demand alternative fueled by economic desperation and perceived market gaps. The official narrative of sufficiency clashes with the daily reality of citizens and the grim economic outlook of the very drivers meant to be serving them.

Sources

• https://elmercurio.com.ec/cuenca/2025/11/26/uber-cuenca-taxis-competencia-controles-emov/

• El Azuayo

• Periodismo 3.0

• Codigo Cuenca