His sentence was deceptively simple. He was to roll a large
boulder up a steep hill. But every time he neared the summit to complete the
task, the weight would become unbearable, the boulder would slip, and it would
roll back to the bottom. Sisyphus would then turn around, walk back down and
begin again. This went on forever.
The philosopher Albert Camus wrote about Sisyphus in 1942.
You would be forgiven if you think that his interest in Sisyphus was in the
punishment and the endless struggle upwards. But it was not. He was interested
in the walk back down the hill. That moment of full consciousness when Sisyphus
descends to meet his boulder again at the bottom of the hill, fully aware it
will roll back and the effort is futile yet choosing to begin again. Camus
suggests that this is the truest test of the human condition.
As a nation, it appears we have remained trapped in a
collective Sisyphean experience as far as road safety is concerned.
A
couple of weeks ago, the National Transport and Safety Authority (NTSA)
launched the Instant Fines Traffic Management System (IFTMS). This is an
automated enforcement platform that uses surveillance cameras to detect traffic
violations, and dispatches SMS notifications and fines to offending motorists
without any human intervention. About 1,000 cameras have been deployed along
major highways across the country. Fines range from Sh500 for minor infractions
to Sh10,000 for more serious violations. Motorists who fail to pay within seven
days face interest charges and are barred from accessing NTSA services until
all outstanding penalties are cleared.
Predictably, the boulder has
already slipped and we are walking back down the hill because shortly after deployment of IFTMS, a case was
filed in the High Court and conservatory orders issued suspending the entire
system. The argument was that the system violates motorists constitutional
rights. The matter has still not finally been determined in court.
As a body politic, we are currently engaged in a dialogue of
the deaf while our roads become a conveyor belt of tragedy. Let us examine the
ledger of our national loss. In 2025, Kenya recorded 5,009 road deaths. This is
not a statistical estimate, but a definitive count of human beings who left
their homes one morning and simply never returned. This represents a 3.4 per
cent increase from 2024, continuing a grim, multi-year upward trajectory of
blood on our tarmac.
The
data reveals a specific vulnerability. Pedestrians remain our most frequent
victims, while motorcyclist fatalities surged by 8.8 per cent to 1,148. Even
the festive season became a period of harvest for the grave, claiming 415
lives, a 23 per cent spike over the previous year. NTSA’s own economists
estimate that these accidents drain Sh450 billion from our economy annually
through medical costs and lost productivity. But make no mistake. This is not a
transport statistic. It is a national indictment.
We
have neither been oblivious of this crisis, nor been short of solutions.
Previously, we had the Michuki Rules of 2003, which reduced road accidents by
an estimated 40 per cent, and which sadly collapsed the moment John Michuki was
moved to a different ministry in 2005. We have also had the alcoblow introduced,
litigated, withdrawn and quietly buried. We have had joint festive season
operations, roadside crackdowns, multi-agency deployments and parliamentary
committee enquiries. Every minister in this docket inherits the same crisis and
unsuccessfully attempts to solve it.
Begs
the question. Do we collectively enjoy being Sisyphus? Is the opposition to
IFTMS simply rent-protection dressed up as rights? You be the judge.
IFTMS is the first initiative
in two decades that attempts to break this cycle structurally rather than
managerially. This distinction matters enormously. Kenyan traffic enforcement
has largely functioned as a revenue system for enforcement officers rather than
a safety system for the public. The
Long Distance Drivers and Conductors Association said plainly in January 2026
that NTSA's roadside joint operations have degenerated into extortion points, opportunities
for corruption, selective application of the law, intimidation and harassment.
In April 2025, NTSA sent a letter to driving schools admitting that a bribery
racket was fleecing learners, with examiners receiving what operators
euphemistically called appreciation per student. No examiner was charged nor
dismissed.
This
is what human enforcement produces in a low-accountability environment. Not
safety. Transactions. The officer and the driver negotiate a price that
satisfies both and serves neither the law nor the road user dying in the next
crash.
Automation
breaks this negotiation. It does not make eye contact, cannot be charmed and
cannot be threatened. IFTMS eliminates these roadside transactions. And that is
the part of the debate that is being lost in the constitutional defense excitement.
I
submit however, that the petitioners are not entirely wrong. They highlight
real problems.
The
argument that automated fines presume guilt before a hearing, is a legitimate
constitutional point. Article 50 of the Constitution guarantees every accused
person the right to be heard. The IFTMS as currently structured, issues,
enforces and restricts access to services without any adjudication. Once fined,
there is no immediate mechanism to contest the fine, review the camera
evidence, or argue that what was captured was not a violation, but a
pothole-avoidance manoeuvre.
The
blocking of NTSA services for unpaid fines is an even sharper concern. When a
government platform can deny you access to a vehicle inspection certificate, a
logbook transfer, or a driving licence renewal until you pay a fine you have not
contested in any court, that platform has become judge, jury, prosecutor and
executioner.
And
the distributional question must be named clearly. Automated enforcement on
highways does not catch the wealthy driver who hires a lawyer and contests
every ticket. It catches the people whose income is movement. These are the matatu
driver, the boda boda operator, the delivery rider and the long-haul truck
driver. If the fine schedule is designed without considering who is actually on
the road, and what a Sh10,000 deduction means to their household economy, the
system is a revenue instrument dressed in safety language.
However,
and this is the argument the court case is obscuring, none of these are reasons
to abandon the system and throw out the baby with the bathwater. They are
design specifications IFTMS has not yet met.
The
United Kingdom's speed camera network issues tens of millions of fines
annually. Abu Dhabi's Salik toll-and-camera system is one of the most efficient
in the world. None of these systems assumed that automation was incompatible
with due process. Each one built an accessible, low-cost appeals pathway
directly into the design. Each one published its error rates. Each one made the
evidence that included the camera image, the timestamp, the recorded speed, and
made it immediately available to the recipient of the fine. The legitimacy of
the system rests not on whether cameras can catch violations. They can. It
rests on whether a recipient can contest one at reasonable cost and reasonable
speed.
Finally,
my unsolicited advice is twofold. First to NTSA. Use the 90-day window granted
by the High Court to engineer due process into the system by undertaking these
five things. One, build a publicly accessible, low cost online appeals portal
where any motorist can upload their own evidence, contest a fine and receive a
determination within 14 days. Two, evidence disclosure must be immediate and
automatic. If an SMS is going to impose a penalty, it should also provide or
link to the proof including the camera image, the timestamp and where relevant,
the recorded speed. This should also include publishing the system’s accuracy
and error rates for the cameras and number plate recognition.
In
a low trust environment, transparency is the only brake on suspicion. Three, remove
the exclusive KCB payment channel. A fine that can only be paid at a bank
branch in 2026 is not a digital system, it is an analogue bottleneck wearing a
technology costume. Four, decouple the service-blocking mechanism from unpaid
fines pending appeal. Five, consider a graduated fine schedule that reflects
income realities. A Sh500 fine for a boda boda rider and a Sh500 fine for a
Range Rover driver, are not the same deterrent, and a system that ignores this is
regressive by design.
To
the petitioners and the various advocacy groups, your instinct is correct. The
system needs due process built in. But lets ask ourselves, what is the
counterfactual being defended? It is the system where traffic enforcement is a
negotiation between an officer and a driver at the roadside, where the outcome
depends on who is more persuasive, more connected, or more flush with cash.
That system killed 5,009 people in 2005 and costed us Sh450 billion. Let that
sink in. We do not have the luxury to keep pushing this boulder up the hill,
only for it to keep rolling back down.
The writer is a political economist