care & love
In a small village outside Nairobi, Maria sits on a wooden bench, watching her children chase goats across the dusty yard. At 32, she should be joining them—fetching water from the well, tending to the maize field, or helping her eldest with homework. But five years ago, a motorcycle accident left her with a spinal injury that paralyzed her lower legs. Since then, her world has shrunk to the radius of her wheelchair, which often gets stuck in the mud during the rainy season. "I used to carry my baby on my back while working," she says softly. "Now, I can't even lift her onto my lap without help."
Maria's story isn't unique. Across developing countries, millions of people like her live with mobility impairments due to injury, disease, or congenital conditions. For many, the dream of walking again feels impossible—not because science can't help, but because the tools to make it happen are locked behind a wall of price tags and exclusivity. Enter the lower limb exoskeleton: a wearable robotic device designed to support, assist, or restore movement to the legs. These machines have revolutionized mobility for some, but for most in low- and middle-income countries (LMICs), they might as well be science fiction. Today, we're exploring why that needs to change—and how affordable robotic lower limb exoskeletons could rewrite the future of mobility for millions.
Mobility is more than just the ability to walk—it's the key to education, employment, healthcare, and dignity. Yet in developing countries, access to mobility aids is shockingly low. The World Health Organization (WHO) estimates that only 10% of people who need assistive devices actually have access to them. For those with lower limb impairments, the gap is even wider. Wheelchairs, while life-changing, often can't navigate rough terrain, unpaved roads, or multi-story homes without ramps—luxuries many communities can't afford. Crutches strain upper bodies over time, and orthopedic braces offer limited support for severe impairments.
This is where robotic lower limb exoskeletons come in. Unlike wheelchairs or braces, these devices actively assist movement: some help users stand, walk, or climb stairs by detecting muscle signals or shifting weight; others are fully motorized, taking over the work of weak or paralyzed muscles. For someone like Maria, an exoskeleton could mean regaining the ability to walk to the market, attend community meetings, or simply hug her children without sitting down. But here's the problem: most commercial exoskeletons cost between $40,000 and $120,000. That's more than the average lifetime income for a family in sub-Saharan Africa. Even in middle-income countries like India or Brazil, such a price tag is out of reach for all but the wealthiest few.
It's not just cost that keeps exoskeletons out of reach in developing countries. Let's break down the barriers:
The result? A paradox: the people who could benefit most from robotic lower limb exoskeletons are the least likely to access them. But innovators are starting to challenge this status quo. The question is: what does an "affordable" exoskeleton look like, and how can we make sure it actually reaches the communities that need it?
When we talk about "affordable" lower limb exoskeletons for developing countries, we're not just talking about cutting costs. We're talking about reimagining the device from the ground up—prioritizing durability, simplicity, and local relevance over flashy features. Here's what that looks like:
High-end exoskeletons often come with advanced sensors, AI-powered gait adjustment, and sleek carbon fiber frames. While impressive, these features drive up costs. Affordable models focus on core functionality: stable support, basic walking assistance, and easy controls. For example, instead of 10 sensors tracking every joint movement, a simpler device might use 2–3 sensors to detect weight shifts and trigger leg movement. Materials matter too: instead of carbon fiber, some innovators use locally sourced aluminum or high-strength plastic, which are cheaper and easier to repair.
Imagine a farmer in Bangladesh breaking a hinge on their exoskeleton. If the part has to be shipped from Europe, they might wait months. But if the device is built with modular parts—think snap-on joints, replaceable batteries, or universal connectors—local technicians can fix it with tools from a hardware store. Some projects even design exoskeletons with 3D-printed components, so replacement parts can be made on-site with a community 3D printer.
In many rural areas, electricity is unreliable or nonexistent. Affordable exoskeletons need batteries that last longer—ideally 6–8 hours of use on a single charge—and that can be recharged with solar panels or car batteries. Some designs even use passive assistance (springs, elastic bands) to reduce battery reliance, only activating motors for uphill climbs or stairs.
A device built for a factory worker in Germany might not work for a farmer in Kenya. Affordable exoskeletons need to account for local lifestyles: adjustable heights to fit diverse body types, waterproofing for monsoon seasons, or lightweight frames for carrying on the back when not in use. User input is critical here—designers must work directly with communities to understand their needs, not just guess from afar.
To see the difference between traditional and affordable models, let's compare a few examples. The table below highlights key features of high-end exoskeletons, mid-range options, and emerging affordable prototypes designed for developing countries:
| Feature | High-End Exoskeleton (e.g., EksoNR) | Mid-Range Exoskeleton (e.g., Indego) | Affordable Prototype (e.g., ChaiUnicycle's "Mobi") |
|---|---|---|---|
| Price | $85,000–$100,000 | $35,000–$50,000 | $3,000–$8,000 |
| Weight | 23–28 kg (user carries ~50% of weight) | 18–22 kg | 8–12 kg (lightweight aluminum frame) |
| Battery Life | 4–6 hours | 5–7 hours | 6–8 hours (solar-rechargeable) |
| Repair Access | Requires certified technicians; parts imported | Regional repair centers; limited local parts | Modular parts; 3D-printable components; local repair guides |
| Terrain Adaptability | Best on smooth floors; limited outdoor use | Moderate—can handle paved roads, small steps | Designed for dirt roads, gravel, and uneven paths |
| Availability in LMICs | Rare; mostly in urban hospitals | Limited; donated to ｓｅｌｅｃｔ clinics | Piloted in rural communities (Kenya, India, Vietnam) |
The numbers speak for themselves. Affordable prototypes like Mobi—developed by a Chinese startup partnering with African NGOs—are proving that mobility tech doesn't have to cost a fortune. But price alone isn't enough. These devices need to be backed by training, maintenance networks, and community support to truly make an impact.
Across the globe, engineers, doctors, and social entrepreneurs are rolling up their sleeves to build exoskeletons that work for LMICs. Here are a few initiatives leading the charge:
ChaiUnicycle, a Beijing-based startup, launched Mobi in 2023 after years of testing in rural Kenya and India. The exoskeleton weighs just 10 kg, uses a simple lever-based control system (no touchscreens or apps), and costs $5,000—less than 10% of most high-end models. "We visited 20 villages and asked users: What do you hate about existing devices?" says CEO Li Wei. "They told us: 'They're too heavy,' 'The battery dies too fast,' 'I can't fix them when they break.' So we built Mobi to solve those problems first." Mobi's frame is made from recycled aluminum, and its battery can be recharged via a solar panel that costs $20. So far, over 200 units have been distributed in East Africa, with users reporting increased independence in daily tasks.
Based in Johannesburg, Project Walk Africa doesn't just donate exoskeletons—it trains local communities to build and repair them. Their flagship model, the "Ubuntu Exo," is assembled in a workshop in Soweto using locally sourced parts. "We don't want to create dependency," explains founder Dr. Thandi Ndlovu. "If a community can build and fix the exoskeleton themselves, they own the solution." The Ubuntu Exo costs $6,500, and the program includes a 6-month training course for technicians. To date, they've trained 30 technicians across South Africa, Mozambique, and Zimbabwe, and placed exoskeletons in rural clinics and community centers.
What if exoskeleton designs were free for anyone to use, modify, and build? That's the idea behind the Open Exo Project, a global network of engineers sharing blueprints, code, and tutorials online. "Big companies guard their designs, but we believe mobility is a human right," says lead developer Dr. Amara Okafor, based in Lagos. "A farmer in Nigeria shouldn't have to pay $100,000 for a device someone in California designed. With open-source, they can tweak the design to fit their needs—add a higher ground clearance for mud, swap out a motor for a cheaper one—and build it locally." The project's most popular design, the "Community Exo," has been built in 12 countries, with costs ranging from $3,000 to $7,000 depending on local materials.
For users like Maria, an affordable exoskeleton isn't just about taking steps—it's about reclaiming their place in the world. Let's look at the real-world impact these devices are having:
In Tanzania, John, a 45-year-old father of three, was paralyzed from the waist down after a construction accident. For years, he relied on his wife to support the family by selling vegetables at the market. Then, in 2022, he received a Mobi exoskeleton through a local NGO. "Now, I can walk to the market myself," he says. "I started helping my wife carry the produce, and soon, I was able to take over the stall when she's home with the kids. We're earning 30% more than before." John's story mirrors studies showing that mobility aids increase employment rates by up to 40% for people with lower limb impairments in LMICs.
In rural India, 16-year-old Priya was born with cerebral palsy, making it hard for her to walk long distances. Her school was 2 km from home, and her parents couldn't afford a wheelchair. "I missed so many days because I was too tired to walk," she says. After receiving an Ubuntu Exo, Priya now attends school regularly. "My friends used to carry my books for me; now, I carry theirs," she laughs. Teachers report improved attendance and grades, as Priya can now participate in physical education and after-school activities.
Mobility loss often leads to isolation and depression. In a survey of exoskeleton users in Kenya, 85% reported feeling "more confident" and "less dependent" after using the device. "Before, I felt like a burden," says Maria, who received a Mobi in 2024. "Now, I can cook for my family again. Last month, I walked to the village meeting and spoke about the need for better roads for wheelchair users. People listened to me—not because I was 'the woman in the wheelchair,' but because I was Maria, their neighbor."
While affordable exoskeletons are making progress, significant hurdles remain. Here's what needs to happen to scale these solutions:
Many countries lack clear regulations for medical exoskeletons, which can slow approval and distribution. In Nigeria, for example, the National Agency for Food and Drug Administration and Control (NAFDAC) only recently classified exoskeletons as "medical devices," allowing them to be imported without excessive tariffs. Advocates are pushing for harmonized standards across Africa and Asia to reduce red tape.
Most affordable exoskeleton projects rely on grants or donations, which aren't sustainable long-term. To scale, innovators need to find business models that work locally—like pay-as-you-go plans, community ownership (where villages pool funds to buy a device), or partnerships with governments to include exoskeletons in national healthcare budgets.
Importing even low-cost exoskeletons can add 20–30% to the price due to shipping and tariffs. The future lies in local production: setting up factories in LMICs to build exoskeletons using regional materials. Project Walk Africa's Soweto workshop is a model here—creating jobs while reducing costs.
For exoskeletons to thrive, communities need technicians who can repair them, caregivers who can assist users, and healthcare workers who can prescribe them. NGOs like the International Society for Prosthetics and Orthotics (ISPO) are working to integrate exoskeleton training into existing healthcare curricula in LMICs.
The lower limb exoskeleton market has long been dominated by sleek, expensive machines built for the few. But as Maria, John, and Priya's stories show, mobility is a universal human right—not a luxury. Affordable robotic lower limb exoskeletons aren't just about technology; they're about justice. They're about ensuring that a farmer in Kenya, a teacher in Bangladesh, or a teenager in Bolivia can walk, work, and live with dignity, regardless of where they were born.
The path forward won't be easy. It will require collaboration between engineers, governments, communities, and funders. It will demand humility—listening to users first, not dictating solutions from afar. But if we keep pushing, we can build a world where exoskeletons aren't just for the wealthy, but for anyone who needs them. A world where Maria can chase her children across the yard again. A world where mobility poverty is a thing of the past.
As Dr. Ndlovu from Project Walk Africa puts it: "We don't build exoskeletons. We build futures." And the future is walking toward us—one affordable step at a time.