Read reports attributed to the Inspector General of Police, Mr Tunde Disu, where he stated that he is considering outlawing fully tinted vehicles in Nigeria.
The justification reportedly offered is that during his tenure as FCT Police Commissioner, 26 of the 27 vehicles used by “One Chance” gangs had tinted windows.
If accurately reported, that reasoning is alarmingly shallow and misguided for a policy with national implications...To Read The Full Content; Tap Here Now .
The fact that criminals prefer a particular tool does not make the tool itself criminal. Criminals also use mobile phones, motorcycles, cash, bank accounts, face caps and ordinary vehicles. Yet no serious policymaker concludes that these things should therefore be prohibited. Public policy must distinguish between correlation and causation.
Tinted glass exists for legitimate reasons. It protects occupants from heat and sunlight. It provides privacy in a society increasingly threatened by opportunistic crime. It shields passengers—women, children, executives, public officials and ordinary citizens alike—from unnecessary exposure during traffic congestion and public movement.
Privacy is not evidence of criminality. Indeed, privacy is recognised as a constitutional value because human dignity requires spaces that are not permanently open to surveillance. That is why homes have curtains, bathrooms have doors and offices have partitions.
There is another concern that deserves public scrutiny. Tinted glass has, over the years, become a recurring fixation of successive police administrations in Nigeria. Motorists are repeatedly asked to obtain permits, comply with changing enforcement priorities and navigate shifting administrative expectations. Many comply in good faith only to discover that the rules appear to restart whenever leadership changes.
The permit regime Itself raises serious questions. What exactly is the permit certifying? The police cannot realistically determine at the point of application whether a citizen will commit a future crime. Once issued, the owner remains entirely free to use the vehicle lawfully or unlawfully. The permit does not prevent criminal intent, detect criminal conduct or deter determined offenders.
At best, therefore, the permit serves as an administrative record. At worst, it becomes a symbolic regulation mistaken for security policy. It is another layer of administrative siege Nigerians are routinely subjected to.
More troubling is the everyday experience on Nigerian roads. Tinted permits frequently become grounds for repeated stops, questioning, confrontation, and haranguing, leaving law-abiding motorists feeling harassed, delayed and treated as presumptive suspects rather than citizens exercising a lawful choice. Security enforcement should inspire confidence, not create the impression that ordinary movement is subject to perpetual police scrutiny.
A policy that expands discretionary roadside enforcement without demonstrable security gains risks becoming not a crime-control measure but another source of friction between citizens and the police.
The state already possesses lawful powers to stop, question and search vehicles where reasonable suspicion exists. Those powers should be strengthened and professionally exercised. They should not become an excuse for broad restrictions on lawful conduct.
Even on empirical grounds, the argument remains weak and unreasonable. The FCT contains one of the highest concentrations of government officials, diplomats, business leaders and security personnel in Nigeria—who mostly travel in tinted vehicles. Police commanders and military chiefs themselves use tinted official vehicles.
Out of hundreds of thousands of tinted vehicles in circulation, selecting 26 criminal cases and treating them as justification for a blanket policy is not evidence-based policymaking. It is anecdote elevated into regulation.
If the logic is accepted, where does it stop? Many crimes are committed in ordinary cars. Trucks and cargo vehicles conceal entire compartments from public view.
Vans, buses and commercial vehicles are frequently used in kidnappings, smuggling and robbery. Yet nobody proposes outlawing them. Security failures should not automatically become arguments against civil liberty.
Would the proposed ban exclude the president, state governors, top government officials, political office holders, police and military commanders, members of the diplomatic corps and VIPs, creating two tiers of law enforcement, making the law not to apply to everyone equally? This is the utter absurdity and contradiction in the IG’s position.
One of the recurring errors of authoritarian governance is the belief that freedom obstructs security—and that security emerges once freedom is narrowed.
History repeatedly shows the opposite: societies that sacrifice liberty for symbolic controls often end up with less freedom and no meaningful improvement in security.
Nigeria’s security challenge is not caused by tinted glass. It is caused by weak intelligence gathering, poor policing capacity, inadequate investigation, corruption within the security architecture, limited deterrence and inconsistent law enforcement.
If law enforcement is weak, improve enforcement. If criminals exploit vehicle anonymity, improve intelligence and vehicle tracking. But banning lawful privacy because criminals also value it is neither sound policing nor serious public policy.
I therefore urge the Minister of Police Affairs, civil society organisations and concerned Nigerians to prevail on the IG to shelve this misguided policy, insist that security measures remain evidence-based, proportionate and consistent with constitutional freedoms.
Nigeria deserves effective policing—not performative regulation.
Fasure wrote from Osogbo.