Okada Riders: The Evolution of the Right to the City.

Abstract 
This paper explains the origin and evolution of the okada —motorbike taxis— drivers movement
against the Road Traffic Law in Lagos. From our analysis, we derived three main takeaways.
First, civil resistance is a continuum; campaigns do not fail or triumph once and forever. In the
okada movement, there was a second wave of protests derived from a second ban imposed by
a new Lagos administration. Second, the action narratives reflect the coalition of its members.
The addition of ride-sharing applications into the movement’s coalition upon the okada ban was
particularly influential in shifting what had been a rights-based narrative and argument for the
campaign, to one that aimed for okada regulation. Third, the right to the city was a salient
element in the okada movement, expressed not only in the protester’s narrative but also in their
litigation tactics. 

Context
In the first decade of the 21st century, Lagos, Nigeria, was not a right place to be.
Decades of federal disinvestment, local military rule, and a swelling urban population
manifested compounding problems. The president of Nigeria, Olusegun Obasanjo, referred to
the city as the “armpit of Africa,’ (Agbiboba, 2017). By 2000, Lagos had won the undesirable title
of the “most corrupt city in the world” (1). Without formal investment, informal networks and
economies bloomed, specifically in the space of informal transportation systems. Okada riders
became not only an efficient way for Lagosians to move around the city but a small scale
practice in entrepreneurship.

Lagos’ new governor Babatunde Raji Fashola (2007-2015), embarked on a powerful

mission to transform the city into a “model megacity of the 21st century.” In 2012, Fashola
crafted the Road Traffic Law. Harvard scholar Daniel Agbiboa, states that “perhaps, no urban
transport policy in African has elicited more controversy” (7). The Law restricted the movement
of okada riders on 475 major routes throughout the city. These roads included not only major
highways and thoroughfares (making okada rides more onerous) but closed off the wealthier
sections of Lagos to these informal workers, most of whom lived in the poorest parts of the city.
The Law caused upsets for two reasons. Firstly, it greatly detracted from the okada industry
without providing alternative options. This was problematic for the drivers who depended on the
income and residents who relied on this system to move about the city. Secondly, it sent a
strong message that the city’s poor were not seen to have a place in the modernizing city.

The deployment of tactics. 

Upon decree of the Road Traffic Law, okada riders began a campaign of various tactics,
including formal complaints, protests, and lawsuits. In the fall of 2012, protestors came together
as the United Okada Riders Stakeholder’s Forum and wrote a formal protest letter to Governor
Fashola. By October, public cries for repealing the Law had gone unanswered. A major protest
to the State House was organized with a diverse coalition including the Committee for Defence
of Human Rights, Path of Peace Initiative, and Federation of Informal Workers’ Organizations of
Nigeria who added their voices to the United Okada Riders Stakeholders’ Forum (Agbiboa,
2017). In a display of counter-protest, the government-backed Lagos State Taskforce on
Environmental and Special Offences (Enforcement) Unit impounded 3,000 okadas bikes from
riders. Riders noted abuses of power from this unit and the Kick Against Indiscipline unit (KAI),
who often repossessed bikes whenever they wished. By the end of October 2012, hundreds of
okada riders were arrested for speaking out against the government or transporting paying
riders on one of the 475 banned roads. In the background, a case against the Law had been
filed and was working through the court systems. By May of 2012, the okada rider’s legal action
had paid off, as the federal high court of Nigeria deemed the Law unconstitutional.

  Despite this ruling, the Law was still enforced ad hoc, allowing those in power to assert
dominance over the industry whenever it fit political aims. For example, the Law was loosened
as the mobile rideshare app industry was created. This industry helped grow Lagos into a “tech
city” which brought in a great deal of investment. These apps were seen as a formalization of
the okada industry, serving both the city’s goals and legitimizing the okada industry. However,
the government decided to eventually crack down on app-based okadas as well. 

Collective Action Narratives

According to Doug McAdam (1999 [1982]), cognitive liberation is a condition for widespread
mobilization. This means that the status quo must be perceived as unjust or illegitimate, and the
prevailing conditions must be perceived as mutable and caused by specific policies or
structures. In this regard, in 2012, the okada movement expressed their economic struggle in
political and antagonistic terms. Okada protesters attributed the problem to the government:
“You gave us no job, we gave ourselves one, and you are killing us for it.” Their tone was
political and confrontational: “Fashola, give me my vote back” [1], “Stop oppressing the poor.”

Okada riders were organized under the umbrella of ANACOWA (All Nigerians Auto
Bike). One of their main allies to mobilize people against the ban was the Joint Action Front
(JAF), a pro-labor civil society group. Due to this coalition, the narrative of the movement
aspired to a maximalist goal: a system change that vindicated the rights not only of okada riders
but of all of the oppressed Nigerians. In one of the rallies, Abiodun Aremu, General Secretary of
the JAF, stated: “We are here to tell the Lagos State government that enough is enough.
Enough of the humiliation of poor people. The Law banning okada is a bad law, and the
government should rescind it [...] . This is the beginning of the struggle to liberate the poor
people in Nigeria.” 

Besides demonstrations, ANACOWA sought an order of perpetual injunction directing

the Lagos State Government to release immediately all okadas belonging to its okada members
seized by and in the custody of the Lagos State government. Furthermore, they dragged the
Lagos State Government to court over what it saw as a violation of its “human and constitutional
rights” as residents of Lagos. This litigation reveals a deeper process of politicization. By using
the language of rights to express their grievances against their marginalization in the city, okada
riders—through their coalition—saw themselves as “rights-bearing-persons” (Eckert, 2012). 

The 2020 shift in narratives and tactics. 

 The State Road Traffic Law of 2012 was newly enacted by the Lagos State government
in the last months. The 2020 restrictions have led to the disappearance of okadas from many
parts of the coastal city, leaving many Lagosians with no way to and from work. Two new actors
affected by the ban are now aligned with the okada driver’s interests: commuters and owners of
okada platforms such as Max.ng. 

The new alliances have changed the narrative of the okada movement. Demands are
not framed in maximalist political terms anymore. They are rather concentrated in one policy
demand: “regulate us, don’t ban us” (Da-Ala Mirilla, 2020). In the demonstrations, the protesters’
banners are focused on gaining legitimacy from the general public: “There is no record of
accidents,” “We pay our fees,” “I am trained, certified and tracked always” and “Over two million
trips, zero fatality.” Most of these banners include the Ma.ng logo, which makes is it evident that
the narrative is prioritizing the values of protection and good service aligned with the interest of
the app owners. The tone of the protest has also changed. Youtube videos [2] and marching
banners are constantly appealing to compassion and empathy, almost in a supplicant way to
raise compassion among the public and government officers.

The contentious spirit of the 2012 demonstration is now being embraced by students
and young workers who were affected by the ban and are rallying around the hashtag
#OccupyLagos. They made their first appearance in the finish line of the Lagos City Marathon,
where peacefully and silently protested against the abrupt ban of okadas (CNR, February 8,
2020). In their narrative, the government should provide alternatives for transportation before
banning the means of transportation for the poor. In support of this claim, Wale Alade, Head of
the Urban Planning Department at University of Lagos states that “public transport in Lagos is
very deficient in quantity and quality considering its megacity status [...] Okadas and kekes
emerged to bridge the gap, albeit with adverse environmental, safety and security effects,
leading to the ban” (Neil Munshi, February 21, 2020)

The tone of the #OccupyLagos demonstrators is humoristic and sarcastic when

attributing responsibility to the government: “Railway? rail, where?” “Will the ferries come to my
street?” “METRopolitan, not TREKopolitan.” However, they do not fight only for more efficient
transportation. Just as the 2012 protest wave, the #OccupyLagos narrative describes a more
general social-class struggle that aims to open the space for new actors and new demands:
“And what about the people”, “You do not build a megacity by hiding the poor”, “Children are
walking, students are walking, workers are walking, Lagos is walking.”

Bibliography

Agbiboa, D. (2017). The rights consciousness of urban resistance: Legalism from below in an
African unofficial sector. The Journal of Legal Pluralism and Unofficial Law, 49(2), 183-203.

Da-ala Mirilla, Dennis (February 11, 2020). “Lagos Okada Ban: This Okada Rider Has A Few
Things To Say”, Life 
Eckert, J. (2012). “Rumours of Rights.” In Law Against the State: Ethnographic Forays into Law
Transformations, edited by J. Eckert, B. Donahoe, C. Stumpell, and Z. Ozlem-Biner, 147–170.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Munshi, Neil (February 21, 2020). “Lagos motorcycle ban forces commuters to walk”
Financial Times,

Endnotes

[1]During election years, political candidates courted okada riders with new helmets and
verbiage of promising to disband the Law. Once elected into positions of power, however, these
politicians often did not fulfill their promises to the okada rider community. During the okada
protest, for example, okada riders held banners that read: “Fashola distributed helmets in 2011.
NOW destroying OUR bikes”; “Used and Dumped”; “Fashola, give me my vote back.” (Agbibioa,
2017)

[2] https://www.youtube.com/watch?Wv=HcXgYk7ycw4