Laws are manmade, and because man is fallible and time dynamic, they cannot remain absolute. What once served a purpose may, over time, lose its relevance as new realities and hitherto unknown needs arise. The story of Jakarta motorcycle operators in rural Gambia is one such example.
Jakartas have become more than just a means of transport; they are lifelines in communities where formal public transport barely exist. Villages scattered across dusty roads, markets several kilometers away, and health centres located miles from homesteads depend on these motorbikes to bridge the gap between isolation and access. They are affordable, available, and indispensable for farmers, traders, students, and even pregnant women seeking urgent medical care.
Yet, despite their vital role, the law continues to treat Jakarta operators as a nuisance rather than as service providers meeting a pressing rural need. Regulations, often designed with urban congestion and safety in mind, are applied with little consideration for the realities of rural Gambia. Instead of reforming or tailoring these laws, some police officers have found in them a convenient tool for harassment and extortion.
Across the provinces, reports abound of Jakarta riders being stopped at checkpoints and made to pay arbitrary sums for minor or sometimes fabricated infractions. Riders speak of officers demanding bribes to overlook issues as trivial as carrying small farm produce, not having reflective jackets, or slightly overloading a bike. In many cases, the money collected never reaches state coffers—it lines private pockets. For rural youth who often turn to Jakarta riding as their only source of income, these encounters are both demoralising and exploitative.
It is important to stress that regulation is necessary. Road safety cannot be compromised, and neither should lives be endangered through reckless riding. But when laws are applied in ways that ignore context, they lose legitimacy. Worse still, when they are weaponised by law enforcement for personal enrichment, they erode trust in the very institutions meant to uphold justice.
What is needed, therefore, is a reevaluation of the legal framework surrounding Jakarta operations in The Gambia, especially in rural areas. Policies should reflect rural transport realities by creating designated spaces for Jakartas within the broader mobility system. This may include simplified licensing processes, clearer guidelines on what constitutes an offense, and community engagement on safety.
Jakarta operators are not the enemy; they are partners in bridging the rural mobility gap. To treat them otherwise is to punish innovation born out of necessity. The law must evolve to serve the people, not to suffocate them, and police officers must return to their role as protectors of the public, not predators of the vulnerable.
With the perennial challenge of unemployment, government should welcome innovative efforts by young people to create self-employment. Jakarta operators fall under this category and they are providing a valuable service to the people, especially in rural areas. I use this writeup to call on the national assembly members to introduce a bill to regulate and harness the use of Jakarta as a way of transportation.
