Three Single Moms, One Big Hustle: 3 Black Women Who Built a Rideshare Co-Op That Changed Everything

Lisandra Castillo
a few seconds ago
4 min read

How single Black mompreneurs in rideshare co-ops are rewriting the hustle economy for women of color

When Hustle Meets Sisterhood

If you’ve ever juggled motherhood, bills, late-night rides, and the never-ending chase for five-star ratings, you know the hustle is real. And for single moms of color? Multiply that by ten. Every ride isn’t just about dropping off a passenger—it’s about making sure the rent is paid, the groceries are bought, and the kids are taken care of.

That’s why the story of three women—one Nigerian, one African American, and one Jamaican—hits me so deeply. Because they didn’t just survive rideshare; they reinvented it. They built a rideshare co-op in their city, combining their hustle, their vision, and their sheer determination. Together, they created a system that gave them control over their schedules, cut down on expenses, and, most importantly, brought in more money than they had ever seen in their driving careers.

I’m Lisandra Castillo, and today I’m bringing you into their world. As a minority single mom myself, I know what it means to fight for every inch of stability. These women aren’t just drivers—they’re mompreneurs rewriting what it means to hustle smarter, not harder.

The Struggles Before the Co-Op

Before they joined forces, all three women were stuck in what I call “the grind cycle.”

Too many hours: They were clocking 10–12-hour days, often back-to-back, missing out on bedtime stories and family dinners.
Too little pay: After gas, maintenance, and platform fees, their take-home pay looked more like pocket change than a paycheck.
Too much stress: Safety worries, car breakdowns, and unpredictable tips made every day feel like survival, not progress.

For single moms, especially Black single moms in America, there’s a cultural weight to carry too. Society already paints us with stereotypes: unreliable, unprofessional, always “struggling.” These three moms lived with that reality. They were constantly underestimated—by riders, by other drivers, even by their own families.

And yet, instead of folding under pressure, they looked at each other and said: “We can do better. Together.”

How They Built the Co-Op

The magic of their story is in the simplicity. They didn’t have venture capital, fancy investors, or tech moguls backing them. They had each other.

Pooling Cars & Resources: Instead of each woman maintaining her own vehicle separately, they rotated the cars. On days when one car needed maintenance, another stepped in. That cut repair costs and gave them backup when one of them couldn’t drive.
Shared Scheduling: They built a simple Google Calendar system. Each of them chose shifts around their kids’ school hours, extracurricular activities, and doctor appointments. Suddenly, the guilt of missing time with their children started to fade.
Shared Earnings & Bonuses: They tracked everything through a joint account and a simple spreadsheet. Weekly bonuses from the apps were split strategically. Whoever hit the bonus shared the pot, so everyone benefited.
Childcare Rotation: This was the real breakthrough. When one mom drove, another would take care of all three kids. That meant fewer babysitting costs and a built-in safety net of love and trust.

Together, they weren’t just drivers anymore. They became business partners, co-parents in spirit, and sisters in hustle.

The Numbers Don’t Lie

Before the co-op:

They averaged $700–$800/week each, after expenses.
They were running themselves into the ground, 50–60 hours a week.

After the co-op:

They consistently cleared $1,200–$1,500/week each.
They cut their driving hours down to 35–40 a week.
Their kids saw them more often, healthier and happier than before.

This wasn’t just about numbers. It was about reclaiming dignity, health, and control.

The Psychology of Team Hustling

Let’s be real: minority single moms are used to being told “you can’t.” You can’t succeed without a man. You can’t outsmart the system. You can’t raise your kids right while working odd jobs.

But these women turned every “can’t” into a can and did.

Ifeoma brought her fierce entrepreneurial spirit. She’d sold goods in Lagos markets before coming to the States, and she knew hustle strategy like second nature.
Monique understood the local streets better than anyone—she knew the safest shortcuts, the busiest rush-hour corridors, and how to avoid the sketchiest neighborhoods.
Simone had charisma for days. Riders loved her energy, her stories, her Jamaican accent, and her warmth. Tips flowed in just from her presence.

Put them together, and you had the perfect trifecta: strategy, logistics, and customer experience.

Lessons for Other Mompreneurs

Here’s what their co-op teaches us:

Collaboration beats competition. Stop seeing other drivers as threats. Your sisters can be your greatest assets.
Leverage your culture. Nigerian boldness, African American street smarts, Jamaican energy—each woman leaned into her identity, not away from it.
Systems save lives. Whether it’s childcare swaps or shared spreadsheets, structure will free you from chaos.
Think like a CEO, not an employee. Every ride is business, not charity.

What This Means for Minority Rideshare Drivers

As a Latina, I know how isolating this game can feel. You get into your car, you drive all day, you cash out, and you wonder if it’ll ever be enough. But when I see what these three women built, I see a blueprint for us all.

For every Nigerian sister trying to make it in Houston…For every African American mom holding it down in Chicago…For every Jamaican woman hustling in New York…

There’s power in unity. There’s money in systems. There’s freedom in cooperation.

And there’s something society is still underestimating: the unstoppable force of minority mompreneurs who refuse to be invisible.

Conclusion: The Future Is Cooperative

When I spoke with these women, one of them told me, “We’re not just surviving anymore. We’re thriving. And we’re doing it together.”

That’s the future of rideshare for women like us. Not endless grinding, not lonely hustling, but cooperative power.

So here’s my challenge to you: next time you meet another single mom at the school drop-off line, or another minority driver waiting at the airport queue, don’t just smile and move on. Ask yourself: Could we build something together?

Because these three moms already proved the answer is yes.

So what’s your strategy for this season? Is your hustle working for you or against you? Drop it in the comments. Let’s get you that upgrade.