

4kg*. That’s a newborn baby. A 7 week old Labrador puppy. Your Tiga Sub4. By making 72 minute but fundamental changes to the Tiga, alterations that many would simply neglect to notice, we have made an obscenely alluring, pioneering lightweight wheelchair that is as rigid and stable as it is lightweight. Transferring, propelling, lifting, turning… All effortless with your Tiga Sub4.

*excluding wheels, cushion and any non-certified options.
By embracing marginal gains technology, the Tiga Sub4 has been created as an unparalleled ultra-lightweight wheelchair. A completely unique Sub4 upholstery, shortened axle and pin setup, specially designed froglegs super light castors and corrosion resistant titanium fasteners, the Tiga Sub4 is as smart as it is beautiful.

Only the best materials are used in your Tiga Sub4. Aluminium is famous for its strength, durability and is synonymous with lightness. The utmost best performance of your chair is ensured by only using elements produced by market leaders, alongside a staggering 19 quality checks throughout the build, from measure to handover.
Download the full Tiga Sub 4 user manual here







Do you need help with funding your RGK chair?
There are a few different ways in which you can try to get funding for your wheelchair. These choices include NHS Wheelchair Services, Access to Work and charities.
Decades later, in a cluttered apartment in the future, a young jazz student found a corrupted file on an old hard drive labeled:
He picked up the trumpet. The air in the room shifted. He didn't just play notes; he blew a digital ghost into the brass. Every valve flick was a line of code; every swell of his cheeks was a data packet of longing.
The student realized then that some files aren't just data; they are invitations. Dizzy hadn't just recorded a song; he had uploaded a soul, waiting for someone to finally press "Play" and bring Jennie back to life.
"The track is lost, Diz," the producer crackled over the intercom. "The master tape snapped. It’s gone."
In a dimly lit studio on the Left Bank, Dizzy sat slumped over a piano, his signature bent trumpet resting on a velvet stool like a tired golden swan. He wasn’t looking for a new bebop anthem or a rhythmic explosion. He was looking for "Jennie."
The rain in 1950s Paris didn’t just fall; it synced to a tempo only could hear.
As the progress bar crept toward 100%, the speakers didn't just emit music. The room began to smell like expensive pomade and old New York clubs. When the final byte clicked into place, the trumpet soared—a high, shimmering "C" that defied physics.