By Adé Yẹmí
The recent destruction of over six hundred motorcycles by the Federal Capital Territory Administration (FCTA), reported in Abuja City Journal under the headline “FCTA Destroys 601 Bikes to Enforce Ban”, revives a long-standing issue that continues to provoke strong and mixed reactions across Abuja.
While the government defends its actions as necessary for maintaining order and security, one must ask: is this method truly effective, or has it become a futile cycle of destruction with no lasting solutions?
Year after year, motorcycles are seized, heaped, and incinerated in the name of enforcement. Yet, daily, they continue to flood the streets of Abuja—especially in the satellite towns and inner districts.
If this approach were genuinely working, would we still be stuck in the same loop?
No one denies that some riders flout traffic rules or operate unlawfully. But for many others, that motorcycle is not just a means of transportation—it is a lifeline.
In a country grappling with high unemployment, soaring living costs, and widespread economic hardship, is it just or humane to destroy the very asset people rely on to feed their families?
Rather than doubling down on a strategy that has consistently failed, the government must begin to ask tough but necessary questions.
Are these bikes genuinely being destroyed—or are some being siphoned off into the shadows of corruption? Citizens deserve transparency.
If property is to be confiscated, there must be a clear, traceable, and accountable process—not one shrouded in suspicion and opacity.
This issue is not solely about law enforcement; it is about leadership. True governance is not about flexing authority—it is about serving the people.
If the administration is determined to phase out commercial motorcycles from the capital, it must first provide realistic alternatives.
What vocational training, financial assistance, or livelihood support has been offered to the affected riders? How can compliance be expected when people are stripped of their means of survival with no viable substitute in sight?
Real leadership seeks the balance between order and compassion. A bike ban can be enforced without abandoning the vulnerable.
The government can establish retraining programs, offer affordable alternatives like tricycles, develop regulated bike lanes, or integrate riders into structured delivery and courier systems.
These are smarter, more sustainable solutions that respect both the law and the people.
Destroying bikes might make for a powerful photo opportunity, but what does it truly solve if, by the next day, the streets are again filled with desperate riders doing whatever they can to survive?
A government that genuinely serves its people must move from punitive theatrics to people-centered policy.
The goal should not merely be enforcement—but compliance with dignity. Unless this destructive cycle is replaced with meaningful reform and innovation, what we are witnessing is not enforcement of a ban, but enforcement of despair. And that is not what governance is meant to be.
