Amid Fuel Queues and the Shadow of Energy Transition

Over the past two days, I have witnessed a striking and somewhat unsettling public phenomenon: unusually long queues at fuel stations. Lines of motorcycles and cars stretched far beyond normal, moving slowly, as if time itself was suspended alongside the collective anxiety present in the air.

This situation can be understood as a form of panic buying, a collective behavioral response to uncertainty. Whether driven by global geopolitical tensions, concerns over energy supply, or the rapid spread of information in today’s digital landscape, one underlying reality becomes clear: people are seeking a sense of security.

Yet behind these queues lies a dimension that is often overlooked—informal sector workers whose livelihoods depend heavily on energy access, particularly ride-hailing drivers.

For us, fuel is not merely a commodity; it is an economic lifeline. Without fuel, movement stops. Without movement, there is no income. In this context, long queues are not just about inconvenience, they represent lost time and, ultimately, lost earnings.

At the same time, the global narrative around transitioning to electric vehicles continues to gain momentum. Conceptually, this shift is both necessary and promising, cleaner energy, long-term efficiency, and alignment with sustainable development goals.

However, at the level of implementation, there remains a significant gap between policy vision and on-the-ground realities.

From my personal experience using an electric motorcycle, the promised efficiency often clashes with operational challenges. In a single working day, I found myself needing to swap batteries up to eleven times, not by choice, but by necessity. This is not merely a technical inconvenience, it directly affects work rhythm and income stability.

In an on-demand work ecosystem, drivers cannot predict or limit their travel distances. Orders come unpredictably, often requiring travel across varying and sometimes long distances. In such conditions, limited infrastructure, such as the availability of battery swapping stations, becomes a critical constraint.

This is where what we might call a “transitional gap” emerges: a disconnect between ambitious policy direction and the lived realities of those operating within the system.

The long fuel queues represent our dependence on the existing system. Meanwhile, electric vehicles symbolize a cleaner future, yet one that is not fully inclusive for all, especially those whose daily survival depends on mobility.

This reflection is not a rejection of change. Rather, it is an invitation to approach energy transition more holistically and equitably.

A successful transformation should not only be measured by how quickly it is implemented, but also by how well it accommodates those on the front lines of the economy.

Because ultimately, the success of any transition lies not only in technological advancement, but in how effectively people are supported to adapt within it.

As the queues continue late into the night, one hope remains: that the future of energy we are building will not leave behind those who are still striving, every day, to keep the wheels of the economy turning.