The arrest of a private driving school director in Bishkek has turned what authorities describe as a road-safety reform initiative into a broader debate over state control, corruption and the limits of public criticism in Kyrgyzstan.

In late January, the Pervomaisky District Court ordered the pre-trial detention of Mederbek Tagaibek uulu, director of the privately owned Driver Training Center, for one month. He was charged under Article 278, Part 3 of the Criminal Code — “public calls for mass unrest.” Investigators cited his Instagram posts and participation in meetings of driving school owners who had openly criticised a presidential decree suspending the operating licences of all 266 private driving schools and transferring training authority to 74 state institutions until August 30.

Authorities insist the arrest is unrelated to his business activities and concerns only alleged calls for disorder. However, within the industry, the case has heightened concerns that public opposition to government policy changes may carry legal risks.

A reform framed as urgent

The overhaul of road safety guidelines was first announced in November 2025 and entered into force in January. Officials presented it as a necessary response to worsening road safety statistics. According to government data, 900 people died in traffic accidents in 2025 — a 21% increase compared to the previous year. The total number of accidents exceeded 8,400.

President Sadyr Japarov has argued that systemic corruption in private driving schools contributed to the problem. He has repeatedly referred to the privatisation of more than 70 DOSAAF (Soviet-era driving and technical training) schools in the 1990s, which he described as having been turned into private profit-making ventures. According to his narrative, some schools issued certificates without proper instruction, allowing unprepared drivers onto the roads.

Government statistics appear to support concerns about quality control. In 2025, roughly 724,000 people passed through driving schools, but only between 100,000 and 135,000 ultimately obtained licences. The exam pass rate reportedly stood at 14-to-20%.

Under the new system, all private licences are suspended during an “approbation period” lasting until August 30. Training is now conducted exclusively through 74 state-run schools. The curriculum has been extended from the previous average of two to three months to 10-14 months. The theoretical component is delivered online three times per week, while practical training is designed to take place across different seasons, including winter driving. Authorities say the model draws on Finnish experience.

The theory course is priced at 19,000 som (around $215), which officials claim is lower than average private-sector costs. The exam question bank has been expanded to 2,000 questions, and all applications are processed digitally through the government’s Tunduk platform. Oversight is centralised under the state agency Unaa, which now reports directly to the presidential administration.

Officials describe the reform as a decisive step toward eliminating corruption and raising training standards. “We were forced to take this step,” Japarov has said publicly, arguing that lives are at stake.

Industry concerns and economic impact

The speed and scope of the reform have generated unease among private operators. Owners of driving schools say they have invested heavily in vehicles, facilities and instructors, often taking out bank loans. Industry representatives estimate that dozens of schools have already closed since the start of the year.

Erlan, a 49-year-old driving instructor in Bishkek who requested partial anonymity, said he is likely to lose his job. He has worked as an instructor for two years and previously spent nearly two decades driving in Moscow, including as a taxi and truck driver.

“There were schools that worked honestly and trained drivers properly,” he said. “But there were also those that issued certificates without real instruction. Because of them, others are now paying the price.”

Erlan does not dismiss the possibility that stronger state oversight can improve standards. At the same time, he questions the 10-to-14-month duration. “For working adults, it’s difficult to dedicate that much time. Four or five months would be realistic,” he said.

He also argues that exam standards — rather than school ownership — may be the key variable. “If the exams were truly strict and transparent, people would prepare differently. The process of passing and administering exams has not fundamentally changed,” he added.

Several instructors interviewed for this story expressed similar views, suggesting that corruption risks persist primarily within the licensing and examination system, rather than in the training itself.

“Corruption still exists within the traffic police system,” Erlan said. “We are inside this environment. We know and hear that if someone has money, they can arrange things — but it is expensive. To pass the theoretical exam through bribery can cost around $1,000. At the practical stage, the amounts can reach up to 10,000 som [about $114]. We know they are under pressure, but despite that, it still happens.”

He argues that expanding the theoretical question bank may not resolve deeper structural problems. “They want to increase the number of questions from 750 to 2,000. We have seen these questions. Many of them are absurd,” he said.

Bolot Ibragimov, a member of parliament who has criticised the reform in parliamentary sessions and on social media, said he met with school owners who requested phased regulation rather than full suspension. “They asked for stricter standards and oversight, not total closure,” Ibragimov said. “Corruption did exist, but the main issue is how licences are issued and how traffic police operate.”

In a recent Instagram post, he questioned the length of the new training programme, writing sarcastically: “Will I become a master of road science after studying 12 months for a Category C licence?”

He added that while longer training may appear comprehensive, its accessibility remains a concern. “A 10-14-month course looks good on paper, but in regions where people commute daily to work, it may simply be inaccessible.”

The reform also alters the financial structure of the sector. Private schools reportedly contributed significant tax revenues annually, though exact figures are not publicly detailed by tax authorities. Under the new arrangement, all tuition payments flow directly to the state. With approximately 100,000 trainees per year, additional fees could generate close to 2 billion som (roughly $23mn) annually, in addition to revenues from licence issuance, vehicle registration and related services.  Authorities have not publicly specified how additional revenues will be allocated, though officials argue that centralisation improves transparency and budgetary control.

Arrests and public debate

The detention of Tagaibek uulu has added a political dimension to what was initially presented as a technical reform. According to investigators, his social media posts and comments could have “destabilised the socio-political situation.” Another school owner was reportedly placed under house arrest.

Industry representatives say the arrests contributed to a rapid decline in public protest activity. Several owners told Eurasianet they are reluctant to speak publicly while criminal proceedings are ongoing.

The case fits into a broader pattern in Kyrgyzstan in which public criticism of government initiatives increasingly intersects with legal scrutiny. While the country has historically maintained a reputation for relative openness compared to its Central Asian neighbours, recent years have seen tighter regulation of public gatherings and online expression.

Human rights advocates contacted for comment either declined to speak on the record or did not respond to inquiries.

Corruption in driver training and high accident rates are not unique to Kyrgyzstan. However, neighbouring countries have pursued different policy responses.

Kazakhstan has focused on digitalisation, introducing AI-assisted exam monitoring systems and facial recognition technologies while maintaining a mixed public-private training system. Uzbekistan has expanded electronic certification and, beginning in 2026, allows theoretical self-study options, again without eliminating private schools. Tajikistan has implemented instructor certification measures and road safety campaigns but has not nationalised the sector.

Kyrgyzstan appears to be the only country in the region to suspend all private licences and temporarily establish a state monopoly over driver training.

Uncertain outcomes

Whether this model proves more effective remains uncertain. Traffic fatalities in Kyrgyzstan declined to 690 in 2022 before rising again in 2025, suggesting that enforcement campaigns and surveillance measures have produced mixed results.

For now, the reform has reshaped the driving school industry and concentrated authority within state institutions. Supporters argue that only a centralised approach can break entrenched corruption networks and standardise training nationwide. Critics contend that the abrupt suspension of private operators risks economic disruption without addressing weaknesses in the examination system itself.

The temporary nature of the reform — officially lasting until late August — leaves open the possibility of adjustments. Authorities could declare the pilot successful and extend state control or reintroduce private operators under stricter regulations.

What is clear is that a policy framed as a road-safety measure has evolved into a wider conversation about governance, economic livelihoods and the boundaries of dissent. Whether the overhaul ultimately reduces fatalities on Kyrgyzstan’s roads may determine how it is judged — both by policymakers and by a sector still waiting to see what comes next.

Aigerim Turgunbaeva is a freelance journalist covering Central Asian affairs.  

This report first appeared on Eurasianet here.