Khartoum Mandates Surveillance Cameras in Commercial Establishments: A Sound Decision That Requiring Further Development

Eng. Mohamed El-Shater El-Amin El-Hassan

This is a belated decision—sound in principle, yet incomplete in its formulation. Khartoum has emerged from a war that, according to the Ministry of Health and the Sudan Doctors Network, destroyed approximately 70 percent of its infrastructure within the first year. As life begins to return to the city—with markets reopening, banks resuming operations, and bakeries, restaurants, and pharmacies once again serving the public—security has become the most pressing need.

At this juncture, surveillance cameras are not a luxury; they are a necessity. They serve as a deterrent to potential thieves, document crimes after they occur, protect merchants from extortion, safeguard customers against fraud, and assist the police in identifying perpetrators in a city still grappling with the aftereffects of lawlessness and looting.

Therefore, we say: yes to surveillance cameras. However, we must also note that this decision is insufficient and should have been far more comprehensive. Cameras alone cannot create security; while they may document a crime, they cannot prevent it if there is no police force capable of responding within minutes. What use is it to capture a thief’s face on camera if we cannot apprehend them?

The decision should have mandated that commercial and service-oriented establishments—in addition to installing surveillance cameras—also implement electronic point-of-sale (POS) systems. What is the value of a camera monitoring a shop if the cash register remains outside the scope of oversight? POS systems ensure that transactions are documented, taxes are applied fairly, and public revenue is transparent.

They provide consumers with an official receipt, protecting them against price gouging and safeguarding their rights should they purchase a counterfeit or expired product. Furthermore, such systems help transition the market out of an invisible, cash-based economy—a breeding ground for corruption, smuggling, and money laundering—and into the light.

How can we require a merchant to install a camera to monitor their face, yet fail to require a POS system to document their sales? How can we focus on monitoring security while neglecting public funds? A policy that monitors people but fails to monitor money is a policy that sees with only one eye.

The flaw is compounded if the policy is restricted solely to licensed establishments, leaving out the tens of thousands of street vendors, tea sellers, and operators of makeshift stalls—who currently populate Khartoum—outside the formal system. In such a scenario, those who are licensed end up bearing the cost, while the unlicensed operate without consequence. Instead, the installation of surveillance cameras and point-of-sale systems should be linked to the licensing process rather than to punitive measures; those who install this equipment could be granted a free or discounted license, effectively integrating them into the formal economy rather than subjecting them to harassment.

However, the implementation of this policy raises fundamental questions that must be addressed. First and foremost: who will bear the cost? Consider a merchant in the Libya Market or Omdurman Market who lost their place of business in the war and has returned with no capital—how can they be required to purchase four cameras, a recording device, batteries, and a monitor, when they cannot even afford to stock their shelves with goods? Unless the state provides support, installment plans, or exemptions for small businesses, this policy will effectively become a new form of levy—one that forces the shops of the poor to close, while only the wealthy are able to comply.

A six-month grace period is required, along with a phased implementation—starting with banks, currency exchange offices, gas stations, and large hotels, followed by marketplaces, and finally, small retail shops.

Second: Who monitors the monitors? A camera that no one watches is useless, while a camera watched by everyone becomes a tool for surveillance. Oversight should be decentralized; recordings should remain with the business owner and be handed over to the police only upon a judicial order.

Third: What about privacy? While a camera might be acceptable in a commercial shop, it is entirely unacceptable in a medical clinic, a changing room, a prayer space, or a girls’ school. Without a data protection law—one that prohibits installation in restrooms or examination rooms, limits the retention period of recordings (we suggest thirty days, after which they should be automatically deleted), and imposes penalties for leaking such footage—cameras will cease to be security tools and instead become instruments for extortion and the violation of privacy.

Fourth: Is there a reliable electricity supply to power these cameras? Khartoum continues to suffer from power outages and poor internet connectivity; without electricity, a camera is nothing more than a piece of decoration. What is required is to permit the use of solar-powered cameras and local recording devices, rather than mandating expensive, internet-connected systems.

In short: yes to cameras, as they protect lives and property; yes to point-of-sale (POS) systems, as they safeguard public funds and consumer rights. But no to cameras if they serve merely as a new means for revenue collection, a tool to violate privacy, or a way to surveil citizens without a legal framework.

A camera without laws to protect data is simply espionage; a camera without a POS system is incomplete oversight; and a camera without a responsive police force is a useless ornament.

Khartoum does not need to become a “surveillance city”; it needs to be a safe and just city. A safe city monitors the thief, while a just city also monitors public funds. Therefore, mandate the use of cameras and POS systems, but simultaneously reform the police and the legal framework—otherwise, the policy remains incomplete.

Shortlink: https://sudanhorizon.com/?p=20248