License or No License, Will It Really Change the Chaos on the Roads?

The Transport and Highways Minister Bimal Rathnayake dropped a fresh bombshell in Ampara yesterday: by December 31, every public transport driver in the country must hold a brand-new “Public Transport License.” On paper, it sounds like a bold move to bring order to Sri Lanka’s famously wild roads. But here’s the whispered question on everyone’s lips—what good is a license if the vehicles themselves are falling apart and traffic already looks like a circus without a ringmaster?

Take a Colombo bus ride on a rainy evening: brakes that squeal louder than the passengers, cracked windscreens decorated with stickers of Bollywood stars, and drivers who think red lights are mere suggestions. In that jungle, one wonders whether a laminated card in the pocket of the driver will really keep commuters safe.

Safety First 

The Minister was quick to assure that the license is all about safety. “Only serious and qualified individuals should be entrusted with passenger transport,” he declared. Admirable words—but the reality is that many buses were built without even basic seat belts. His solution? “Modify them.” Critics mutter that this means welding in a few rusty buckles and hoping for the best. And let’s not forget those notorious drivers who fake compliance by strapping school-bag belts across their shoulders—creative, yes, but hardly safe.

Internationally, similar schemes have had mixed results. In Singapore, bus drivers go through rigorous training, medical checks, and continuous monitoring—meaning the license is more than just a plastic card, it’s a career-long commitment. In the UK, the Passenger Carrying Vehicle (PCV) license demands theory tests, safety drills, and even customer-service training. Meanwhile, in India, where road chaos is just as legendary as ours, licenses alone haven’t solved the problem—dilapidated buses and lax enforcement mean accidents still dominate headlines.

will the Public Transport License be a magic ticket to safety, or just another piece of paper?

 Some passengers hope it will finally weed out the reckless “race-track” bus drivers who treat Galle Road like Formula 1. Others shrug, saying unless the vehicles are upgraded and traffic law enforcement is consistent, nothing much will change.

At the end of the day, Sri Lanka’s roads might not need more paperwork—they might need more discipline, better buses, and a cultural reset behind the wheel. Until then, commuters will continue to clutch the seat in front of them, whisper a prayer, and hope the driver’s brand-new license is worth more than the laminated photo it’s printed on.