By Peter Quaqua (former President, Press Union of Liberia)
I got my license back on Monday following an encounter with the traffic police on July 18 for what they cited as an “improper U-turn” at the intersection of Broad and Randall Streets.
Thanks to all who commented, reached out, checked in, or encouraged me to do a follow-up post. Normally, I’d let an incident like this pass quietly. But given the growing public concern around the operations of the Liberia Traffic Management (LTM), I feel compelled to share my experience and observations.
When I returned to the LTM compound on Monday, July 21, to pay the US$20 fine, the scene was busy this time. The compound was crowded, some people were there for traffic tickets, others were processing driver’s licenses and several more were trying to retrieve impounded vehicles.
A noticeable number of traffic police officers were on the premises. At the entrance, a security guard in an LTM jacket warned me not to park near the impounded cars, jokingly saying, “Before they mistake your car for one of them.”
Inside, a tall man who appeared to be in charge moved briskly between points, issuing instructions and trying to impose some order. He was polite and even apologized for not attending to me earlier, explaining he’d been dealing with a troublesome fellow. Meanwhile, a staff member had already directed me to the payment section marked “Reception Bank.”
Three staff members – two men and a woman, were seated behind the glass windows. I submitted my ticket to the guy in the middle and was asked to pay the $20USD. After a 25-minute wait, I was given a payment invoice (not a receipt) – stamped “PAID” and directed to the far end of the compound to make photocopies. The copier operator charged me LD$80 and handed me two copies each of the ticket and invoice.
Next, I proceeded to the license issuance area, where two uniformed policewomen were in charge. One of them took my documents, searched through a pile of confiscated licenses, and returned mine.
At this point, I couldn’t shake the feeling that ticketing had become less about promoting road safety and more about revenue generation. The volume of people being fined suggested, at least to me, that enforcement might be driven more by quotas than concern. I may be wrong, perhaps the police are simply being vigilant – but it’s worth watching.
As I exited the issuance room, I noticed the payment center had grown more crowded and much noisier. The commotion centered around the posted exchange rate – LD$210 to the U.S. dollar, at least 15LD above the Central Bank’s official rate. Naturally, the debate quickly veered into the usual street politics and broad accusations of corruption. I’ll sidestep those for now.
Still, one comment stuck with me. A man, possibly an LTM employee, remarked that the Liberia National Police (LNP) were originally responsible for issuing driver’s licenses before the civil war.
Under former President Sirleaf, that function was transferred to the Ministry of Transport. “Now the police just took it back,” he said. “Why are they vexed?” It was a pointed response to the ongoing protest by Transport Ministry employees, who are challenging the LTM, a private entity operating with police backing and, it appears, the quiet blessing of the Executive Branch.
This apparent turf war between the Ministry of Transport and the LTM has left ordinary citizens in limbo and vulnerable – simply caught in the crossfire.
While waiting in line, I saw an elderly man holding a payment receipt from the Liberia Revenue Authority (LRA). He had just paid a traffic fine and, like me, entered the license issuance office. Later, I learned that the Ministry of Transport continues to perform its statutory duties despite LTM’s parallel operations.
So where does that leave us—the public, especially ordinary motorists? Are we now expected to choose between institutions when seeking legitimate driving credentials or processing vehicle registrations? And what happens when even the most well-intentioned citizen gets it wrong?
It’s increasingly clear that the Ministry of Transport stands to lose. Without enforcement authority – something only the police possess, its statutory role risks becoming obsolete.
This is not just a bureaucratic disagreement. It is a crisis of governance, of accountability, and of public trust. When the functions of government are duplicated or contested by competing authorities and interests, the public pays the price. Citizens are left to navigate a murky and unpredictable system where clarity, fairness, and transparency are sacrificed.
As it stands, we are all trapped – and if this situation is not resolved swiftly and decisively, the Liberian people may become collateral damage in an institutional crossfire.
Stay blessed!
