Favela Uber - How Brazil’s Red Command Made Its Own Ridesharing App

Hundreds of taxi drivers were forced to use the app in the latest sign of how Brazilian gangs are becoming increasingly sophisticated.

One of Brazil’s largest criminal groups, the Red Command, forced hundreds of motorcycle taxi drivers in Rio de Janeiro to download and use an illegal ride-hailing app developed by the gang.

In early August, Rio de Janeiro police launched an operation after discovering the app, named Rotax Mobili, had been enforced across much of the city.

This marks the latest step by Brazilian gangs and militia groups to take over essential services, ranging from providing Internet and electricity access to building and renting out entire apartment blocks, to extorting drivers for using parking spaces.

Originally a prison gang, the Red Command (Comando Vermelho - CV) has been at the forefront of this wave of innovation and criminal governance.

This article was contributed by Júlia Quirino, a Ph.D. candidate in Sociology and Anthropology at the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro (UFRJ). She is a researcher at the Center for the Study of Citizenship, Conflict, and Urban Violence (NECVU/UFRJ) and a member of the Americas Regional Civil Society Network for the Implementation of the United Nations Convention against Transnational Organised Crime. Her research focuses on the governance practices of the Comando Vermelho criminal gang in Rio de Janeiro, illegal armed groups, urban violence, and arms and drug trafficking. She can be reached at juliaquirinop@hotmail.com.

How does the app work?

Rotax Mobili is a fully functioning app developed by the Red Command and launched earlier in 2025. Its connection to crime was evident from the very start.

It was marketed with the tagline, “O único aplicativo de viagens de carro e moto que passa pela barricada e te deixa na porta de casa”, meaning “the only car-and-motorbike travel app that gets past the barricade and drops you at the door.”

That promised a service that no legitimate ride-sharing company could provide: getting past gang roadblocks. In favelas of western Rio, such as Vila Kennedy, the CV has long erected barricades of debris, concrete, and scrap metal to ward off police incursions. These barricades allow the gang to regulate all movement in the community and charge tolls to those who enter.

The app is yet another way for the CV to cash in from their territorial control.

In practice, Rotax Mobili operated much like Uber, with users installing it on their phones and hailing rides. But crucially, the entire network of drivers and dispatch was controlled by the CV. It was the only option available to residents as official ride-share services have been banned by CV edict.

At least 300 motorcycle taxi drivers were coerced into working via the app. Reports indicated that those who refused were threatened, beaten, and banned from CV neighborhoods.

Rotax Mobili quickly paid for itself, netting CV between 800,000 to 1 million reais per month (about $160,000–200,000) in fares skimmed to the gang. The app charged drivers a 20–30% commission on each ride plus a fixed monthly fee, closely matching the cuts demanded by the likes of Uber and 99.

According to police investigators, the entire scheme was the brainchild of CV commander Jorge Alexandre, alias “Sombra.” Sombra allegedly wanted to export the app to other strongholds, including Rocinha, Rio’s largest favela,

In essence, CV wanted to franchise its transport app.

How did the app help CV’s broader goals?

The CV has been making steady and calculated moves toward controlling every day life in many of Rio’s favelas.

Figures from the State Secretariat of Public Security in 2025 makes that clear. Only around 11 per cent of CV’s profits in the city now come from drug sales. The real money comes from what locals call the imposto do crime, the “criminal tax.” In practice, this means gangs seize or monopolize services considered essential: Internet access, cooking gas, water delivery, mototaxis, even ice deliveries. Anyone who wants to live or work in CV territory pays up, whether they realise it or not.

The app slotted neatly into this syste, as another way to extract commissions from workers, lock residents into dependence, and eliminate competition.

The shift is also part of a growing trend in which criminal gangs, especially the CV and their rivals, the PCC, are keeping up with Brazil’s digital transformation. Eighty-five per cent of adults own a smartphone, and most Brazilians already do their banking, shopping, and bill-paying on their devices.

For the CV, a gang-run ride-hailing platform was a logical next move. The same technology that made Uber and 99 household names could be repurposed for criminal governance. And once locals normalised using a CV app for their commute, it blurred the line between criminal service provision and everyday urban life.

The app also meshed with a bigger financial story. In April 2025, Rio police exposed the largest money-laundering scheme in state history, worth an estimated 6 billion reais ($1.1 billion) in a single year. The CV and PCC, were in it together, funnelling drug profits and extortion money through fintechs, shell companies and even a rogue digital bank. The transport app’s revenue, modest by comparison, fed directly into this laundering machine.

The CV learned from their own deadly rivals. Groups known as militias, which draw their members largely from security forces and have strong political backing, similarly built their fortunes by extorting locals for housing, transport, utilities and protection, often under the cover of legitimacy.

Factions like CV realized they were leaving money on the table by not exploiting those same rackets. Conversely, militias have learned from the gangs’ example in another domain: narcotics sales. While militias used to claim moral superiority by banning drugs, many militia groups in Rio today quietly allow or facilitate drug sales for a share of profits.

The end result is that an average resident in a Rio favela might find little practical difference whether a militia or CV cell is in charge – either way, they must pay protection fees, buy services from the “authorized” vendor, and avoid crossing those in power.

The CV and militia groups have fought regular battles for control of key favelas, which have left hundreds dead.

The strategic implications are stark.

First, the CV is only deepening its role as a key provider of services, not just its drugs. This is highly dangerous for Brazil, as the legitimization of criminal groups is a crucial warning sign down the path to a criminal state.

Second, the CV’s success in this arena, including its ability to launder billions, means shutting down an app is barely an inconvenience.