NATIONAL | The newly enforced Traffic and Road Safety (Speed Limit) Regulations, 2024, are meant to save lives—but may instead be tightening the noose around the economic necks of average Ugandans.
With penalties now skyrocketing to Shs200,000 for exceeding limits by 10–30km/h and Shs600,000 for going beyond that, drivers on even the widest, smoothest roads now risk financial penalties that rival monthly incomes.
The Ministry of Works and Transport this week confirmed that the regulations, gazetted in February and now being enforced through automated number plate recognition cameras, will apply uniformly—even on roads that seem designed for speed.
Among them is the Northern Bypass, a multi-lane highway originally marked with a 70km/h speed limit. That has now been quietly lowered to 50km/h.
Lugogo Bypass, another smooth stretch with little pedestrian activity and light on traffic, now has a maximum speed of 30km/h, forcing motorists to virtually crawl on tarmac clearly built for faster transit.
The ministry’s own tone in communication has been striking. “If you’re flying at 100km/h on Northern Bypass (limit: 70km/h) or above 60km/h on Lugogo Bypass (limit: 30km/h)… that’s 30 currency points out of your wallet—not the old 10!” read one social media post by the Ministry, attempting to inject humour into a subject that is quickly becoming a serious economic concern for many.
Uganda’s road safety strategy is long overdue for an overhaul. Previous laws had remained largely unchanged for two decades, even as the country urbanised rapidly and traffic fatalities surged.
Speeding and reckless overtaking accounted for nearly 45 percent of the 5,144 road deaths recorded last year. The government has pointed to this grim toll to justify the clampdown.
But critics warn the regulations risk becoming a hammer used indiscriminately—even where a scalpel would suffice.
In Uganda’s central region, where much of the traffic infrastructure is concentrated, there is also a vast informal sector that depends on efficient movement.
Motorcyclists, taxi drivers, vendors, and delivery riders often juggle multiple trips to make ends meet. The new limits, especially on high-speed corridors like the Northern Bypass and other dual carriageways, add time to each journey and eat into daily earnings.
Worse still, vehicles run less efficiently at low speeds, leading to increased fuel costs—another burden for drivers who already struggle to keep up with inflation.
“What’s the logic in setting the same speed limit for a hospital zone and a highway designed for transit?” asked a commuter in Ntinda.
“We’re not reckless drivers. But now you can be fined half your rent just for making good time.”
The automated system also removes the human discretion once exercised by traffic officers. A driver going 55km/h on a clear, open stretch of road marked 30km/h will now be fined automatically, regardless of context or actual risk posed.
For many, this feels less like safety enforcement and more like state-sanctioned fleecing.
The ministry’s blanket policy appears blind to how diverse Uganda’s roads and their users are. A small car on the Lugogo Bypass, a boda rider in Ggaba, and a bus heading to Entebbe Airport all now face the same penal thresholds, even as their contexts and speeds differ wildly.
Yet no consideration has been made for income differences, terrain, or frequency of use. The law is the same for all—but its cost is not.
These rules arrive at a time when public confidence in government spending is already frayed, with questions about budget allocations and service delivery dominating public discourse.
In such a climate, harsh penalties for minor speed infractions risk being viewed not as a safety measure but as another cash-cow dressed up in reflective road safety colours.
While there is no doubt that Uganda needs to address its tragic road safety record, the current approach risks alienating those who should be its biggest allies—daily road users.
A more adaptive enforcement model, perhaps based on road type, time of day, or real-time traffic patterns, could achieve better outcomes.
As it stands, the fear of a Shs600,000 fine for driving at 80km/h on a highway could deter rather than encourage compliance, especially among those already excluded from public transport and other safe alternatives.
While the concentration of vehicle in Uganda is high, there is no denying that most of the vehicles on the road are actually loans on wheels.
With high school fees burden and cost of living, adding "incessant" digital traffic fines to an already depressed populace crawling out behind loan sharks lanes can only be tragic.
If the government truly intends to protect lives without breaking wallets, it may need to re-examine how safety can be enforced equitably, efficiently—and economically.
Because in the current climate, the road to safety looks increasingly like a toll road—one that the average Ugandan cannot afford.