At bus stops across Ibadan, a quiet racket has taken root. At Soka, Iwo Road, Academy, Olorunsogo, Challenge, Beere, and dozens of other stops scattered across the city, young men and women, some barely out of their teens, position themselves to intercept motorists. Their tool is a levy ticket bearing the name of the Ibadan City Government. Their method is coercion.
It does not matter whether a driver has pulled over to drop a passenger or pick one up. The moment a vehicle slows near any of these bus stops, the tickets come out. Pay up, or do not move. The collectors do not appear to be making any distinction between a deliberate stop and a passing one. If your vehicle slowed down, you owe them money.
What makes this difficult to dismiss as ordinary street disorder is the role of law enforcement within it. At several of these locations, police officers have been observed actively stopping motorists on behalf of the levy collectors, holding up traffic to ensure the money changes hands. The presence of uniformed officers does not signal protection here. It signals partnership.
The question of legal backing for these levies remains murky. There is no clear, publicly communicated policy from the Ibadan City Government explaining who this collection applies to, under what conditions, or how the funds are accounted for. What is visible on the ground bears little resemblance to any regulated revenue system.
For commercial drivers navigating the city’s already congested roads, this is simply another cost layered onto an already difficult daily reality. Fuel is expensive, passengers are few, and now every bus stop carries the risk of an unplanned deduction at the discretion of whoever happens to be standing there that day.
When the police are the ones stopping your car so someone else can collect money from you, something has gone seriously wrong, and the people it is happening to deserve an explanation.
