When Police Checkpoints Become Toll Gates -By Adeyemi Temitope Sanya

On July 29, 2026, I joined the millions of Nigerians who simply wanted to travel from one part of the country to another and get home safely. Instead, I found myself confronted by a reality that has become all too familiar on our highways: the abuse of power at police checkpoints.

I was driving from Ondo State to Port Harcourt after spending almost the entire day on the road. Like every weary traveller, my only desire was to complete the journey and reunite with my family.

Around 6:30 p.m., I approached a police checkpoint near the TGM axis on the Warri–Ughelli Road. I slowed down, parked as directed and handed over my driver’s licence when an officer requested it. He also asked for my vehicle documents. I gave him everything I had, including the Change of Ownership document and every other relevant paper relating to the vehicle.

I believed that would be the end of the inspection.

It wasn’t.

The senior officer at the checkpoint insisted that I must produce a Sale Agreement for the vehicle. I politely explained that the Change of Ownership document reflected the transfer of ownership and that I had every other relevant document with me.

He wasn’t interested in my explanation.

Instead, he threatened to seize my vehicle and have it impounded. Then came the statement that many Nigerians have heard in one form or another: I should “settle” them with the equivalent of 30 litres of fuel.

I told him I couldn’t afford it.

I explained that I had been on the road since morning and still had hours to drive before getting to Port Harcourt, where my family was waiting for me.

It made no difference.

For almost two hours, I was kept at that checkpoint. I wasn’t a criminal. I wasn’t transporting anything illegal. I wasn’t resisting the officers. Yet I found myself pleading simply to continue my journey.

As the evening grew darker, fear slowly replaced frustration. I was alone. I didn’t know what the next threat might become. My thoughts kept drifting to my family, wondering what they would think if I suddenly became unreachable.

Eventually, the negotiation changed.

The demand became ₦2,000 — all the cash I had left. Tired, frustrated and simply wanting to leave, I handed it over.

Only then was I allowed to continue my journey.

What troubled me even more was what I observed while I was there. Vehicle after vehicle stopped briefly. Money exchanged hands. The drivers moved on. Nobody argued. Nobody questioned it. It looked less like law enforcement and more like a collection point.

That should worry every Nigerian.

This is not about ₦2,000. It is about what happens when those entrusted with enforcing the law begin to use that authority as a tool for intimidation and personal gain.

It also raises an important question. Is the absence of a Sale Agreement enough to make someone a suspect when the person can produce a valid Change of Ownership document and every other relevant vehicle paper? If the answer is no, then why are innocent motorists being threatened with detention and vehicle seizure over it?

Stories like this are one reason many Nigerians no longer see police checkpoints as places of protection. Instead, they approach them with anxiety, wondering what excuse will be invented to delay them or demand money from them.

This is unfair to the many police officers who carry out their duties professionally and with integrity. Their reputation is damaged every time a few officers turn checkpoints into business centres.

The Nigeria Police Force has repeatedly spoken about professionalism, accountability and respect for human rights. Those are commendable goals. But for ordinary Nigerians, reform is not measured by press statements. It is measured by what happens on our roads.

A checkpoint should make travellers feel safer, not more vulnerable.

No citizen should have to budget for extortion before embarking on a journey. No one should have to choose between surrendering money and risking further harassment. And no family should have to wonder whether their loved one will make it home simply because they encountered the wrong officers at a checkpoint.

Our roads already present enough challenges. Bad roads, heavy traffic and insecurity are burdens Nigerians deal with every day. Law enforcement should never become another burden.

The police exist to protect the public, not to prey on it.

My experience on July 29, 2026, is, sadly, not unique. That is precisely why it deserves attention. Until checkpoints cease to function as unofficial toll gates and return to their true purpose of protecting lives and property, public confidence in policing will remain fragile.

Nigeria deserves better. And so do the millions of law-abiding citizens who simply want to travel from one destination to another without fear, intimidation or extortion.