When even your Traffic Fine is a scam!
Once upon a time in the Republic of Uncommon Sense, the government decided that Ghanaian motorists had enjoyed too much freedom on the roads. Some drove as though speed limits were recommendations from elderly relatives, deserving respectful consideration but not necessarily obedience. Others regarded traffic lights as Christmas decorations, beautiful to behold but entirely optional. The authorities therefore introduced electronic traffic enforcement, hoping cameras would accomplish what policemen, road signs and decades of public education had struggled to achieve.
It was a brilliant idea. Cameras do not accept apologies, recognise party colours or appreciate the significance of a driver's uncle being a Deputy Minister. They simply record offences and leave the authorities to do the rest.
Unfortunately, the Republic's fraudsters were also watching. And being patriotic citizens with an extraordinary appetite for business opportunities, they apparently decided that government should not enjoy a monopoly over the collection of money from frightened motorists.
Thus was born Ghana's newest potential growth industry: Traffic Fine Entrepreneurship.
For years, our enterprising fraudsters concentrated on traditional sectors of the deception economy. They promised unsuspecting citizens foreign visas, miraculous investments, parcels of gold and romantic relationships with wealthy strangers who mysteriously required financial assistance before declaring their undying love.
But every industry must innovate or perish. Why promise somebody an inheritance from a dead millionaire in London when you can simply inform him that his Toyota Corolla has offended the Republic?
No complicated love story. No inheritance documents. Just a threatening message, an alleged traffic offence and instructions to pay before trouble arrives.
The Ghana Police Service warned motorists about fraudulent traffic penalty notices on 4 November 2026, while the Cyber Security Authority followed on 9 November with concerns about fake messages and payment websites. Evidently, some people had discovered that where government establishes a collection system, unofficial competitors may soon arrive with their own invoices.
In the Republic of Uncommon Sense, even criminality believes in public-private partnership.
Consider the predicament of the ordinary Ghanaian motorist. He leaves home determined to obey every traffic regulation. At the first junction, a taxi overtakes him from the wrong side. At the next, an aboboyaa carrying enough merchandise to establish a branch of Kejetia Market passes him with the confidence of a presidential convoy. Before reaching his destination, three motorcycles have demonstrated that road markings are merely artistic expressions on asphalt.
Our gentleman, meanwhile, is doing 50 kilometres per hour, glancing nervously at his speedometer as though it contains the examination results of his firstborn.
Then his telephone announces the arrival of a traffic penalty.
Ei!
He checks the message, his registration number and his memory. Was it yesterday? Last Tuesday? Perhaps the day he accelerated slightly to escape an impatient truck whose driver appeared to believe that brakes were invented for cowards.
The message demands payment. But is it genuine?
One friend advises him to ignore it. Another warns that failure to pay could lead to prosecution. A third suggests visiting the police station. A fourth, who considers himself an expert in digital governance because he once successfully renewed his passport online, recommends checking the official platform.
By the time our motorist finishes his consultations, he has spent enough airtime to finance a small telecommunications company. And he still cannot establish whether he owes the Republic money or whether the Republic's unofficial business community is attempting to collect a private tax.
What a country!
Our ancestors warned that when two elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers. In modern Ghana, however, the elephants have discovered mobile money, and the grass is being asked to enter its PIN.
The tragedy is that electronic traffic enforcement is not inherently a bad idea. Ghana's roads have witnessed enough recklessness to convince even the most stubborn optimist that something must change. We cannot continue treating road safety as a seasonal sermon delivered during Christmas and Easter, only to return afterwards to the national sport of overtaking death at dangerous bends.
But technology without adequate public education can become an elaborate invitation to confusion.
When motorists are uncertain about how official notices are delivered, where penalties should be verified and which payment channels are legitimate, fraudsters need little imagination. They merely dress deception in the respectable clothing of government authority and wait for frightened citizens to open their wallets.
As the elders say, when the owner of the house fails to identify his children, the stranger may enter the compound and demand supper.
Indeed, perhaps the Republic should introduce a compulsory examination for motorists: Advanced Traffic Fine Authentication.
Question One: You receive a message claiming that your vehicle exceeded the speed limit. What should you do?
A. Pay immediately before the police arrest your ancestors.
B. Forward the message to your family WhatsApp group for collective interpretation.
C. Consult your pastor to determine whether the offence is physical or spiritual.
D. Verify the notice through the officially authorised channel.
Naturally, the correct answer is D. Unfortunately, in the Republic of Uncommon Sense, many citizens may have exhausted A, B and C before discovering D.
And therein lies the serious matter beneath the laughter.
The success of electronic enforcement depends not merely on detecting wrongdoing but also on public confidence. A genuine penalty must be distinguishable from a fraudulent demand without requiring the investigative resources of EOCO, the patience of Job and the technical expertise of a cybersecurity consultant.
Government must make verification simple, publicise authorised payment channels and ensure suspicious notices can be reported without unnecessary bureaucracy. Otherwise, motorists may ignore legitimate penalties because they suspect fraud, while others pay criminals because they fear prosecution.
The criminal wins either way.
Perhaps the greatest irony is that the Republic has invested in technology to detect motorists exceeding speed limits, only to discover that fraudsters are equally determined to overtake the enforcement system in the race for the motorist's money.
And so, in the Republic of Uncommon Sense, government is pursuing speeding motorists, fraudsters are pursuing frightened motorists, and frightened motorists are pursuing somebody who can explain which pursuit is legitimate.
Perhaps the next generation of traffic cameras should be programmed to detect not only speeding vehicles but also speeding fraudsters.
For in a country where even a traffic fine can be counterfeit, the only thing travelling faster than the motorist is the criminal's imagination.
And unlike the unfortunate driver, that imagination appears to have no speed limit.
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DISCLAIMER: The Views, Comments, Opinions, Contributions and Statements made by Readers and Contributors on this platform do not necessarily represent the views or policy of Multimedia Group Limited.
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