THE other night, while heading home from work, I witnessed a familiar sight along a main thoroughfare in Davao City — motorcycles lined up at a checkpoint, engines idling, helmets half-off, and boxes popped open. I understand the importance of security. After all, Dabawenyos are known for our discipline and vigilance. But there’s a fine line between protecting public order and perpetuating bias.
It’s a tired narrative: motorcycles as the default vehicle of criminals. But let’s not forget — four-wheeled vehicles are just as often used in crimes. Why, then, are motorcycles still being singled out?
I recall a time when checkpoints didn’t stop at plain view inspections. Everything, including compartments, had to be opened—often without cause. I experienced this firsthand.
Back in 2023, when then PNP chief General Benjamin Marbil floated the idea of a uniform checkpoint approach, lawmakers raised alarm bells. Rightly so. By 2024, the PNP released a memorandum promoting a more equitable checkpoint policy—for all types of vehicles, not just motorcycles.
Yes, Davao is security-oriented. We live by the code “Kung may nakita, magsalita.” But fairness must go hand in hand with security. Singling out motorcycles — and by extension, the working-class riders who rely on them — is not only discriminatory but legally problematic.Motorists like us are not without legal protection. In the Supreme Court case People v. Comprado (G.R. No. 199402, January 13, 2016), the Court ruled that opening a motorcycle compartment without a warrant, probable cause, or the rider’s consent is unlawful. The evidence seized in that case — illegal drugs — was thrown out. The ruling serves as a stern reminder: routine checkpoints do not grant unchecked authority to search.
Peace and order are non-negotiable. But justice demands that our methods be just. Security shouldn’t come at the cost of dignity — nor should it ride on two wheels alone.
