It starts, as it too often does in this country, with twisted metal and wailing sirens. Two buses, an Isuzu and a Tata, collided head-on along the Kampala–Gulu highway, killing sixty-three people on the spot. The news travelled fast — from the police’s terse press statement to the morning talk shows and WhatsApp groups filled with images too horrific to share. For a few days, Uganda mourned. Then, as we always do, we moved on.
But we
shouldn’t.
Because the real tragedy on our roads is not just the crashes themselves, but our acceptance of them as normal. According to police data, more than 5,000 Ugandans died on our roads last year, while another 17,000 were left seriously injured. That’s a seven percent rise in deaths and a staggering 36 percent rise in serious injuries compared to the previous year. On average, fourteen people die every single day on Uganda’s roads — the equivalent of a full taxi of lives wiped out before sunset.
Now think
about that. Every day, fourteen families begin new lives defined by loss. Every
day, fourteen breadwinners vanish from the economy, leaving behind dependents,
unpaid loans, and unfinished dreams. And every year, according to studies, road
crashes drain an estimated 4.4 trillion shillings from the economy — about five
percent of our GDP. That’s more than the national budget for agriculture or
education. We are quite literally driving ourselves to poverty.
The official reports like to call it “human error.” It sounds polite, even inevitable. But when over 80 percent of crashes are caused by human error, what it really means is that we have an entire licensing system that has failed to separate skilled drivers from lucky ones...
Take a
boda-boda rider weaving through traffic with a passenger, or a bus driver
barreling down a narrow tarmac at 120 km/h — you’ll often find they have
licenses that were bought, not earned. The testing process itself is still
largely manual, with all the weaknesses that come with it: corruption,
inconsistency, and human bias. A few thousand shillings can turn a failed test
into a pass. A nod from the right officer can put an incompetent driver on the
road.
We have made
it easier to buy a license than to earn one, and now we are paying for it — in
blood, broken limbs and national income.
A modern
transport system cannot be built on guesswork. And yet, every day, thousands of
new drivers are churned out by an opaque, corruption-prone system that tests
neither knowledge nor reflex. The result is visible in every roadside wreck.
The solution
is obvious, but long delayed: automation. We need to take the testing process
out of the hands of corruptible humans and hand it over to machines that don’t
take bribes or play favourites.
Today fully
automated, intelligent driver testing systems that evaluate drivers
scientifically rather than emotionally are available.
It starts
with something as simple as ensuring that every applicant passes a genuine
physical fitness test. Machines can now assess vision, color perception,
hearing, reflexes, and coordination — no need for dubious doctor’s letters.
The theory
exam, too, can be digitized — a computer randomly generating questions on
traffic law, ethics, and road safety, complete with facial recognition to
prevent impersonation. And the practical road test? That’s where the real magic
happens. Smart vehicles equipped with sensors, cameras, and GPS can measure precision
in braking, reversing, hill starts, and cornering with an accuracy no human
examiner can match. Every maneuver is scored automatically and transmitted to a
central command center that oversees all testing centers across the country in
real time. No envelopes. No favours. Just results.
For the first
time in a long time, a Ugandan driver’s license would mean what it’s supposed
to mean — that the holder actually knows how to drive.
But this is about more than safety. Automation will create jobs for ICT technicians, data analysts, and exam supervisors. It will reduce government costs, improve transparency, and even generate revenue through testing fees. Uganda could become a regional center of excellence for driver testing, setting a benchmark for East Africa.
Most
importantly, it would restore public trust. Imagine renewing your license
knowing the process is fair, efficient, and incorruptible. Imagine the ripple
effect of competence — fewer crashes, lower insurance costs, healthier workers,
and a calmer, saner traffic culture.
This is not a
futuristic fantasy. The technology exists today. What’s missing is the will to
implement it.