“I’ve got T-shirts older than you!” The joke draws laughter from a table of black-cab drivers gathered in the Astral cafe on Regency Place in Westminster. Around the table, cabbies swap stories accumulated over decades behind the wheel: picking up the England World Cup hero Geoff Hurst, ferrying senior politicians around London, and navigating the capital long before smartphones and satnavs existed.
At just 21, Bahrain Mujagata is an anomaly among them. In late 2025, he became London’s youngest licensed black-cab driver after completing the Knowledge – the notoriously demanding test of the capital’s streets – in just two years and five months. Most candidates take three to four years to qualify, according to Transport for London.
Outside Charing Cross station, a security guard spots Mujagata and immediately pulls out his phone. “I’ve never ever seen a cabby this young,” he says, laughing as he takes a picture. “My family won’t believe this.”
Mujagata has become used to the reaction. Customers have given him flowers, chocolates, tips and even Formula One tickets after discovering his age. Sometimes, people flag him down only to say hello.
“Very many customers have noticed me before,” he says. “They don’t even take the cab. They’ll just stop me and go: ‘I know who you are.’ And I’ll be disappointed and happy at the same time because I thought I got a job.”
The attention reflects how unusual his decision is. According to Transport for London, the number of licensed black-cab drivers has fallen by more than a third over the past decade. Most drivers are 54 or older. Yet, for Mujagata, becoming a cabby never felt unusual: his father and brother both drive a black cab.
Growing up, he watched his mother having to ask permission for annual leave while his father largely decided his own schedule. “The flexibility was the biggest thing for me,” he says.
Mujagata studies computer science at university in London and takes acting classes on the side. Most afternoons, he finishes lectures, starts driving at about 4pm, and works into the night before returning for 9am classes the following day.
Even if neither acting nor technology become a long-term career, he says, the Knowledge means he will always have a profession to fall back on. “I am always going to have my badge,” he says. “I could not work for two years and still come back and work in the third.”
To qualify as a black-cab driver, candidates must learn London’s network of roughly 25,000 streets alongside thousands of landmarks, stations, hotels, theatres, hospitals and public buildings. They are tested through a series of oral examinations in which examiners can ask for the shortest legal route between any two points in the capital, taking account of one-way systems, restrictions and banned turns.
Mujagata did it while studying for A-levels, applying to university and adjusting to life in Britain after moving from Uganda four years ago.
A large map of London covered one wall of his bedroom. He would wake at 4am to practise routes on a moped before traffic built up, revise during breaks in college, and sometimes wake in the middle of the night to study. “I didn’t sleep properly for two or three years,” he says.
Learning London street by street came with a few painful lessons. He picked up parking and traffic fines while accidentally ending up in the wrong lanes, concentrating more on memorising routes than driving them.
“Being on the road with a moped is very draining,” he says. “During the winter, it’s very taxing.”
The oral examinations were worse. Candidates sit face to face with an examiner who can ask about any route in London. “The exam was very scary,” he says.
One advantage was having a Knowledge teacher at home. “The easiest part of the process was that other people had to travel to different houses for a Knowledge teacher, but I had one in my own house.”
His father guided him through the process, while the rest of the family adjusted their schedules to support him. These days, father and son often work similar shifts, exchanging information about where passengers are waiting as they pass one another on London’s roads.
For all the industry’s concerns about the future, Mujagata remains optimistic. The government’s plans to allow self-driving taxis on British roads have prompted fresh questions about whether traditional cabbies can survive. Companies including Wayve, Waymo and Baidu are all hoping to launch autonomous services in the coming years.
Mujagata is unconvinced: “You can replace a human, but not the humanity within them,” he says. “The conversations you have – sometimes people just want to talk to someone.”
More than anything, he sees black cabs as part of London’s rich tapestry. “You’ve got the yellow cab in New York and the black cab in London,” he says. “Maybe it’s not going to be as profitable as it was, I can agree with that. But I definitely don’t think it’s going to die off just like that.”
At the Astral cafe, the stories continue. Older drivers swap tales from a profession many outsiders think is fading away. Mujagata listens carefully, occasionally joining in.
In a trade worrying about who will replace its ageing workforce, London’s youngest cabby has already provided one answer.
