For years, a cloud of suspicion has hung over the Barbados Licensing Authority. Whispers of underhand dealings have become the drumbeat of our transport system—allegations ranging from the illicit sale of permits to the registration of “phantom” vehicles that do not exist. But recently, the situation at the Barbados Licensing Authority has descended into a full-blown national crisis.
The department has hit a new low. Potential motorists are being forced to catch buses and ZRs because the system is too broken to get their vehicles registered. During a recent VOB radio broadcast, one frustrated gentleman revealed his car has been grounded for two months simply because he cannot obtain registration numbers. Another commuter confessed that she has resorted to using “garage plates” just to get to work—risking her livelihood because the official system is paralyzed.
In an era defined by Artificial Intelligence and digital transformation, why is an essential government department still trapped in the “Dark Ages” of inefficiency?
The rot, however, seems to go deeper. I once asked the driver and conductor of an obviously unroadworthy ZR, which was plying the Silver Sands route, why their van was allowed to transport passengers. Their reply was chillingly blunt: “They took our money, so they have to allow us on the road.” While they did not specify who took the money, the implication was clear: someone in a privileged position was being paid to look the other way. For years, rumors have swirled around various ministers, but these claims remain “hush-hush”—leaving us to wonder if they are mere political smears or a hidden, ugly reality.
But some things are not rumors. I can personally attest to standing in the yard of the Barbados Licensing Authority and witnessing a worker—a pot-bellied gentleman with no sense of shame—openly soliciting sexual favors from a young female learner driver. He promised to “facilitate” her license in exchange for her body. He made no attempt to hide this solicitation from me, a total stranger. If this is what happens in the open yard, one can only shudder to think what occurs behind closed doors.
The current “system outage” has only added fuel to the fire. Allegations are circulating that the registration system is down because of unpaid debts to a firm in the UK, and until the bill is settled, the island remains in limbo. Whether this is a technical glitch or a financial embarrassment remains unconfirmed, but the response from official channels is very convincing.
Until the Pine can operate in a timely, transparent manner without the need for “greasing palms” or sexual favours, the Pine will remain a symbol of systemic failure.
The public deserves a department that works for them—not a “pay-to-play” scheme that leaves the average Bajan stranded on the sidewalk.