Top logistics-Tech Companies & Startups in MENA Region

Across the Middle East and North Africa, logistics rarely breaks where diagrams say it should. Addresses are inconsistent, demand surges without warning, cash still changes hands at the door, and trust often matters more than technology. In that environment, the most influential logistics-tech companies are not the ones boasting the biggest fleets or the most futuristic warehouses, but those quietly absorbing local complexity and turning it into operational clarity.

What we see across markets like Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Egypt, and Jordan is a common shift: logistics tech is moving away from asset ownership and toward orchestration, intelligence, and control. Startups are choosing to sit between fragmented actors—couriers, drivers, warehouses, merchants—replacing intuition and informal coordination with data, visibility, and predictable outcomes. It’s not about eliminating chaos as much as making it legible.

This maturation reflects a deeper change in how commerce itself is evolving across the region. SMEs are coming online without the margins or patience for long-term contracts. Consumer expectations are rising, but infrastructure still lags. In response, logistics-tech startups are being forced to build for real-world behavior: missed calls, seasonal demand spikes, labor volatility, and cities that don’t map cleanly. The companies that survive are those that design for these frictions rather than pretending they don’t exist.

Taken together, the following companies illustrate where logistics tech in MENA is heading—not toward one dominant model, but toward many localized solutions grounded in how goods actually move on the ground. Their value lies less in disruption and more in discipline: making delivery more predictable, fulfillment more transparent, and growth possible without owning the road, the truck, or the warehouse

Among logistics-tech companies in Saudi Arabia, Torod stands out not because it owns trucks or warehouses, but because it deliberately chose not to. From our conversations with merchants, what keeps coming up is how unpredictable delivery can be here — not just city to city, but neighborhood to neighborhood, sometimes street to street. Torod is built for that messiness. It acts as a neutral orchestration layer between online sellers and a constantly shifting pool of courier companies, replacing gut feeling with performance data.

What we noticed is that Torod’s appeal is strongest with small and mid-sized merchants who never benefited from the volume discounts enjoyed by large marketplaces. Instead of chasing scale at all costs, the company leans into transparency: which courier actually delivers on time in south Riyadh, which one struggles with COD collections in Jeddah, and where failure rates quietly creep up. In a country still dealing with inconsistent addressing and customers who may or may not answer the phone, that visibility matters.

There are limitations, of course. Torod is only as strong as the couriers it works with, and courier quality in Saudi can change fast. But by staying asset-light and focusing on integrations, Torod reflects a growing maturity among logistics-tech companies in Saudi Arabia — proving that scale doesn’t always require owning the road.

Salasa approaches logistics from inside the warehouse, not the delivery van, and that decision shapes everything about its model. Many Saudi DTC brands we’ve spoken to want faster deliveries but recoil at the idea of building their own fulfillment operations. Real estate, labor, systems — the overhead quickly becomes a distraction. Salasa steps into that gap, operating localized fulfillment centers that allow brands to ship nationally without taking on that burden.

What stands out to us is Salasa’s emphasis on operational discipline rather than flashy features. Inventory accuracy, order batching, and reliable same-day dispatch may not sound exciting, but for SMEs operating on thin margins, predictability is everything. This mindset fits Saudi Arabia’s current stage well: brands want to conquer Riyadh and Jeddah first before even thinking about cross-border expansion.

Still, fulfillment is a capital-heavy business, and scaling beyond major cities won’t be easy. Secondary cities bring demand, but not always density. Salasa’s challenge will be maintaining service levels without overextending. Even so, it shows how logistics-tech companies in Saudi Arabia can become quiet enablers of local brand growth rather than loud aggregators chasing headlines.

Khazenly is built around a simple understanding many planners overlook: Saudi SMEs rarely have steady demand curves. Sales spike during Ramadan, White Friday, back-to-school — then drop sharply. Long-term warehousing contracts don’t fit that reality. Khazenly’s modular, pay-for-what-you-use approach reflects a deep familiarity with how small merchants actually operate.

From what we’ve seen, its decision to avoid heavy automation is deliberate, not a compromise. Overengineering warehouses in a price-sensitive market often leads to higher fees that SMEs can’t justify. Khazenly instead uses software to improve space usage and order flow while keeping human operations central. Arabic-first support and flexible contracts also build trust in a market where legal complexity and long lock-in periods still make founders cautious.

The model may struggle if labor costs rise or volumes suddenly surge beyond expectation, but for now it captures something essential about logistics-tech companies in Saudi Arabia: efficiency doesn’t have to mean massive capex to create real value.

Barq plays a very different game, focusing almost entirely on the urban last mile. In Riyadh especially, delivery speed often matters more than distance, and consumer patience is thin. Barq’s approach reflects that reality, optimizing for dense neighborhoods, unpredictable traffic, and businesses that care more about same-day fulfillment than nationwide coverage.

What we find interesting is how Barq prioritizes flexibility over scale. Restaurants, retailers, and service businesses we spoke to don’t want long contracts — they want responsiveness. By leaning on dynamic dispatch and pricing, Barq allows these merchants to promise fast delivery without locking themselves into rigid agreements.

That said, on-demand models are fragile. Margins can evaporate quickly during demand spikes, and courier supply is never guaranteed. Barq’s bet is that mastery of micro-markets will beat brute-force national expansion. It’s a reminder that among logistics-tech companies in Saudi Arabia, winning sometimes means knowing one city extremely well.

Aymakan represents a more data-mature chapter in Saudi logistics. Instead of simply promising faster deliveries, the company focuses on explaining why deliveries fail — and what merchants can realistically do about it. That resonates in a market where missed calls, vague addresses, and COD refusals remain stubborn problems.

By combining its own delivery network with partner integrations, Aymakan tries to balance control and reach. Its investments in address intelligence and COD reconciliation reflect hard-earned lessons from operating on the ground, not theoretical efficiencies. Medium-sized sellers, in particular, seem drawn to this middle ground: more visibility than traditional couriers offer, without the complexity of enterprise systems.

The challenge ahead is scaling insight without drowning merchants in data they can’t act on. But Aymakan shows how logistics-tech companies in Saudi Arabia are evolving — moving from speed-at-all-costs toward operational intelligence, where understanding the last mile is often more valuable than simply racing through it.

Below is a rewritten version of the article, shaped as a regional editorial rather than a catalogue of startups. The structure remains readable, but the tone, rhythm, and perspective reflect how we actually discuss logistics tech companies in UAE when speaking with operators, founders, and regulators on the ground.

Below are five logistics tech companies in UAE that matter not because they are loud, but because they understand how logistics actually works here: fragmented, broker-driven, price-sensitive, and still deeply suspicious of anything that promises overnight transformation.

What stands out to us about Shyft is not the technology itself — marketplaces and route optimisation are hardly new — but the way it has been moulded around urban UAE realities. In cities like Dubai and Abu Dhabi, last-mile logistics is shaped by gated communities, concierge desks, strict delivery windows, and building security that rarely talks to drivers. Shyft’s model quietly acknowledges that reality rather than fighting it.

From our conversations with retailers using the platform, the appeal is flexibility. Small ecommerce sellers and food businesses don’t want long-term contracts or minimum volume commitments. They want today’s deliveries done, reliably, without arguments over invoices later. Shyft’s on-demand orchestration model fits that mindset.

There are, of course, limitations. Dynamic pricing can feel unpredictable for cost-conscious SMEs, and fleet consistency remains a challenge when relying on distributed drivers. Traditional logistics players still scoff at the asset-light approach. But in congested urban zones, where idle time kills margins, Shyft’s choice to remain a technology layer rather than a fleet owner feels pragmatic rather than timid.

Warehouse automation in the UAE is often discussed as if every business is ready for robotics and large-scale fulfilment centres. The reality is messier. Many mid-sized ecommerce brands are still reconciling inventory on spreadsheets and dealing with cash-on-delivery returns weeks after the sale. WareIQ MENA seems to have built its product with that in mind.

Instead of chasing mega-warehouses, the company focuses on making existing fulfilment centres smarter. Inventory placement closer to demand hotspots sounds obvious, but in practice it’s something many brands struggle to execute consistently. Demand in Dubai Marina behaves differently from Sharjah industrial zones, and WareIQ’s data-driven approach helps brands adapt without massive capital outlay.

We’ve noticed that adoption is smoother among digitally native brands, while traditional retailers remain cautious. Integration fatigue is real, and convincing operators to trust forecasting algorithms over gut instinct takes time. Still, by addressing regional quirks like high return rates and COD reconciliation, WareIQ positions itself as a technology partner rather than another landlord — a subtle but important distinction among logistics tech companies in UAE.

Cold chain logistics in the UAE is a space where shortcuts are expensive and mistakes are unforgiving. In pharmaceuticals and fresh food, compliance is not a selling point; it’s a survival requirement. iMile ColdTech Solutions operates with that understanding.

What differentiates its approach is depth rather than breadth. The company has leaned heavily into IoT-driven monitoring, giving clients real-time visibility into temperature and humidity across the journey. For hospitals and speciality food importers, this data is less about dashboards and more about accountability — proof that standards were met if regulators or partners come asking.

That said, cold chain technology is not easy to scale. Hardware costs, sensor maintenance, and client training slow expansion. But iMile’s decision to stay within UAE regulatory frameworks, instead of rushing into regional expansion, reflects a realism we don’t always see. In sectors where trust takes years to build, staying focused may be the smarter growth strategy.

Anyone who has ever tried to book freight across emirates knows how informal the process still is. Phone calls, favours, brokers, and long waits for confirmation. LoadMe steps directly into that inefficiency, offering something the freight market has resisted for years: visibility.

By digitising truck availability and pricing, LoadMe simplifies life for SMEs that don’t have in-house logistics teams. For small fleet owners, the platform offers exposure and steadier utilisation — especially valuable in a market plagued by empty return trips.

Still, trust does not digitise overnight. We’ve seen hesitation from older transporters who worry about margin transparency and rating systems. LoadMe’s challenge will be maintaining quality control without alienating the very drivers it depends on.

By staying focused on domestic UAE freight and positioning itself as a neutral connector rather than a carrier, LoadMe shows how logistics tech companies in UAE can create value without owning a single truck.

Last-mile delivery is where customer trust is won or lost, and in the UAE, failed deliveries carry an extra sting. Security desks refuse parcels, customers change schedules, and cash-on-delivery adds another layer of complexity. Postex UAE seems to understand that last mile is less about speed and more about communication.

Rather than building yet another courier service, Postex sits between merchants and delivery providers, improving coordination. Customers appreciate the ability to reschedule, while merchants gain visibility into why deliveries fail — something surprisingly rare in the market.

From what we’ve observed, the platform resonates most with SMEs who cannot dictate terms to large couriers but still want control over customer experience. The challenge, as always, lies in aligning multiple courier partners under a single performance standard.

By localising features like multilingual notifications and COD workflows, Postex avoids the trap of copy-pasting international models. In a market saturated with delivery promises, focusing on experience rather than raw speed feels refreshingly grounded.

Taken together, these companies illustrate a broader truth about logistics tech companies in UAE: meaningful progress here happens incrementally. Success comes not from grand visions, but from understanding how goods actually move, where paperwork still rules, and why trust, more than technology, determines adoption.

When we first started hearing truck drivers mention Trella by name — not as “the app” but as something they relied on — it felt like a small but telling shift. Long-haul freight in Egypt has historically run on phone calls, family brokers, and handwritten notes tucked into glove compartments. Trella didn’t magically digitize that overnight, but it nudged the market toward something more legible. By matching shippers directly with drivers, it reduced the deadhead trips you still see all too often on the desert roads between Alexandria, Sokhna, and Upper Egypt.

What stands out to us is how intentionally local Trella’s operational logic is. Freight pricing here doesn’t behave like a spreadsheet model — diesel subsidies change, tolls creep up quietly, harvest seasons distort demand. From conversations with founders and fleet operators, it’s clear the algorithms were trained as much on lived chaos as on clean data. The mobile-first design also matters more than pitch decks admit. Many drivers are practical men who don’t want tutorials; Trella works because it stays usable even when digital comfort is minimal.

That said, the marketplace isn’t frictionless. Brokers haven’t disappeared; they’ve adapted, sometimes using the platform themselves. And price transparency, while welcomed by large manufacturers, can pressure small operators during downturns. Still, Trella’s real contribution is cultural: proving that you can introduce structure without blowing up entrenched relationships — a delicate balance in Egypt’s logistics economy.

If Trella reorganized highways, Bosta turned its attention to stairwells, intercoms, and unanswered phone calls. Last-mile delivery in Egypt is less about distance and more about human behavior: customers who change their minds, cash that needs reconciling, and merchants who operate entirely from Instagram DMs. Bosta understood early that e-commerce here doesn’t look like Amazon — it looks like WhatsApp voice notes and delayed replies.

From our observation, Bosta’s dashboards aren’t the real innovation; it’s the obsession with reducing failure. Missed deliveries are expensive in a cash-on-delivery market, eroding margins and trust at the same time. The SMS nudges, the courier scoring, the merchant visibility — all of it is designed to cut emotional friction, not just operational cost.

There are challenges, of course. Cairo congestion doesn’t scale politely, and courier retention remains a constant struggle. But Bosta gained loyalty by positioning itself less as a courier and more as an ally to small merchants who feel ignored by banks, platforms, and regulators alike. In a market where SMEs operate perpetually on the edge, that empathy becomes infrastructure.

ShipBlu took a contrarian bet in a country obsessed with speed: that predictability matters more. Instead of promising same-day miracles, it focused on narrow delivery windows and disciplined execution. For brands burnt by “inshallah deliveries,” this approach landed differently — calmer, almost reassuring.

What we noticed is how much ShipBlu leans into process, something the local courier scene often resists. Driver training, standardized handovers, feedback loops that actually close — these sound boring until you realize how rare they are. The internal software isn’t flashy, but it enforces behavior, and in Egypt, enforcement is half the battle.

The trade-off is scale. Premium reliability costs money, and not every merchant can afford it in a price-sensitive market. But as D2C brands mature and returns become reputationally expensive, ShipBlu’s model starts to feel less niche and more inevitable. It’s quietly making the case that professionalism itself is a logistics innovation.

Logistics usually gets discussed in terms of parcels and pallets, but Yalla Fel Sekka reframed the conversation around food security. Anyone who has spent time in Egypt’s agricultural belts knows how fractured the journey from farm to factory really is. Middlemen dominate not because they’re efficient, but because they’re familiar. Yalla Fel Sekka’s decision to treat logistics as coordination rather than transport shows a deep reading of this reality.

By giving farmers visibility into demand and buyers confidence in quality and timing, it tackled two sources of chronic mistrust. Cold-chain logistics here isn’t just expensive — it’s unforgiving. When it fails, waste follows quickly. The platform’s emphasis on traceability feels less about compliance and more about survival.

Still, adoption isn’t simple. Rural digitization moves slowly, and behavior change takes seasons, not sprints. Yet what’s compelling is how Yalla Fel Sekka blends agri-tech with logistics without forcing farmers into unnatural workflows. It’s not a platform trying to disrupt agriculture; it’s one trying to stabilize it.

On the surface, GoodsMart looks like another quick-commerce experiment. Spend a bit more time, and it’s really a logistics play disguised as groceries. Egyptian households shop frequently, in small baskets, and they care deeply about price — not convenience slogans. GoodsMart’s micro-fulfillment model responds to this by placing inventory where demand actually lives, not where rent is cheap.

We found their restraint interesting. Limited SKUs, tight warehouse control, and predictive demand planning aren’t glamorous, but they work in dense neighborhoods where inefficiency is instantly punished. The dark store isn’t just a warehouse; it’s a buffer against Cairo’s unpredictability.

The model does face pressure — margins are thin, and consumer loyalty can be fickle. Yet GoodsMart hints at a broader shift: logistics companies no longer sitting behind the curtain, but shaping how urban consumption itself is organized. In cities like Cairo, that may be where the real battle is headed.

Mapped across Jordan’s evolving supply chain, these logistics-tech startups are quietly doing the unglamorous work of keeping goods moving — not by chasing scale headlines, but by adapting to the realities of a market shaped by informal addresses, cash-heavy transactions, and deeply cautious merchants. From our conversations with founders and operators, what stands out is not how ambitious their decks sound, but how grounded their assumptions are about how Jordanians actually buy, sell, and deliver.

Tawseel feels like a company built by people who have personally waited for deliveries in Amman — calling drivers, explaining landmarks, negotiating timing. What it’s really solving is not just last-mile logistics, but the long-standing gap between how digital commerce is designed and how Jordanian cities function in practice.

We noticed early on that Tawseel deliberately avoids the “grow-first-fix-later” playbook common in regional startups. Instead, it leans into operational clarity: predictable routes, transparent cash-on-delivery reconciliation, and dashboards that make sense to small merchants who may still be juggling WhatsApp orders and handwritten notebooks. From our conversations with SME owners, this matters more than advanced analytics or regional reach.

That said, Tawseel’s focus on affordability and SME readiness comes with trade-offs. Scaling beyond familiar urban corridors like Amman and Zarqa will test whether hyper-local routing logic can hold up in less dense, less predictable areas. Competing with regional players who can undercut prices through volume is another tension they’ll have to navigate carefully.

Yalla Delivery approaches logistics from the same place many micro-merchants do: cautious, price-sensitive, and often overwhelmed by tech. It’s no coincidence that many of their early users were first-time online sellers, particularly home-based food and grocery businesses experimenting with Instagram and Facebook commerce.

The company’s strength lies in making logistics feel unintimidating. Minimal technical requirements, simple driver coordination, and cash-on-delivery support align with how small sellers actually operate. We heard repeatedly that for many merchants, Yalla was less about speed and more about confidence — knowing someone would actually show up and handle the delivery.

However, operating at this end of the market comes with razor-thin margins. As Yalla expands beyond food into parcels and retail, it will face pressure to standardize operations without alienating the very sellers who chose it for its informality.

Taken together, these companies reflect a Jordanian logistics-tech scene that is pragmatic, restrained, and deeply shaped by local behavior. They are not rewriting global supply chains — and they’re not pretending to. Instead, they are navigating paper-heavy habits, cash dependence, and trust deficits one delivery at a time. In Jordan, that may be the only path that works.