As the winter chill gives way to spring in Winnipeg, an uncomfortable reality has settled over the city’s transit system. At a downtown bus shelter on Portage Avenue, I meet Sophia Hernandez, a nursing student who commutes daily to the Health Sciences Centre.
“I keep my pepper spray in my pocket now,” she tells me, glancing nervously at passing strangers. “Two years ago, I would have laughed at the idea.”
Winnipeg Transit, once simply a utilitarian part of daily life for thousands, has become the focal point of growing safety concerns. Recent incidents have left riders and operators on edge, prompting renewed calls for enhanced security measures across the city’s transit network.
Last month, a 28-year-old man was charged with second-degree murder after allegedly stabbing another passenger on a city bus. This follows a troubling pattern that transit workers say has worsened since the pandemic.
“We’re seeing an escalation that can’t be ignored,” explains James Weppler, president of the Amalgamated Transit Union Local 1505, which represents more than 1,300 transit employees. “Our operators are reporting incidents daily – everything from verbal abuse to physical threats. The psychological toll is immense.”
City data reveals a 45% increase in transit-related disturbances compared to pre-pandemic levels, with particular concentration along main routes connecting downtown with North End neighborhoods. What’s alarming officials isn’t just the frequency but the severity of incidents.
Winnipeg Police Service spokesperson Constable Dani McKinnon notes that while overall crime rates have fluctuated across the city, transit-related offenses have maintained an upward trajectory since early 2023.
“We’re allocating additional resources to transit corridors during peak hours,” McKinnon said during a recent press briefing. “But we’re dealing with complex social issues that extend far beyond policing capacity.”
Those social issues – including addiction, mental health crises, and housing instability – have become more visible on public transit. Community advocates argue that focusing solely on enforcement misses the underlying causes.
Diane Redsky, executive director of Ma Mawi Wi Chi Itata Centre, suggests a more holistic approach. “When people don’t have safe spaces to exist during the day, transit becomes more than transportation – it becomes shelter. We need to address root causes while making transit safe for everyone.”
The city hasn’t been standing still. Winnipeg Transit introduced its BLUE Team (Bus Livability and Urban Engagement) in 2023, deploying specially trained personnel to address non-emergency situations. These teams, recognizable in their blue uniforms, aim to connect vulnerable individuals with appropriate services while maintaining order.
Initial data showed promising results in certain areas, but coverage remains limited. The program currently operates on a fraction of routes and primarily during daytime hours.
City councillor Janice Lukes, who chairs the infrastructure committee overseeing transit, acknowledges the challenges. “We’re trying to balance budget constraints with growing security needs. The BLUE Team has shown value, but scaling it requires significant investment.”
That investment may be coming. Last week, Mayor Scott Gillingham announced plans to accelerate the transit safety strategy, potentially adding $1.8 million in funding for expanded security presence and infrastructure improvements.
“Every Winnipegger deserves to feel safe on public transit,” Gillingham stated. “This isn’t just about responding to incidents – it’s about preventing them through thoughtful, evidence-based approaches.”
The proposed measures include additional surveillance cameras, emergency call buttons at more stations, and expanded hours for safety personnel. But implementation timelines remain unclear amid budget deliberations.
For transit operators, these changes can’t come soon enough. A recent survey by the transit union found 78% of drivers reported experiencing at least one threatening incident in the past year, with 23% considering leaving their positions due to safety concerns.
“I’ve had coffee thrown at me, been threatened with a knife, and regularly get verbally abused,” says Daniel Thompson, a transit operator with eight years of experience. “The protective shields help, but they don’t address the overall environment.”
Thompson refers to the operator safety barriers installed on buses following the 2017 murder of driver Irvine Fraser, who was stabbed while on duty. While these barriers provide some protection for drivers, passenger-on-passenger violence remains largely unaddressed by physical measures.
Community-based initiatives have emerged to fill gaps. The Bear Clan Patrol, known for their neighborhood safety walks in Indigenous communities, has expanded their presence to transit corridors in high-need areas.
“We’re not law enforcement, but we provide a calming presence,” explains Kevin Settee, a Bear Clan coordinator. “Sometimes just having community members present changes the dynamic completely.”
Some riders have taken matters into their own hands. Transit user groups have created informal networks through messaging apps to coordinate travel companions during late-night hours. These grassroots responses highlight both community resilience and the depth of concern.
Back at the downtown bus shelter, Sophia Hernandez prepares to board her bus home after an evening shift. “I still believe in public transit,” she says, “but something fundamental has changed. We need to fix this before people abandon the system altogether.”
As city officials debate solutions, the daily reality for thousands of Winnipeg transit users remains uncertain. The path toward safer public transportation will likely require not just increased security measures, but addressing the broader social challenges manifesting throughout the system.
For now, riders like Hernandez continue their daily commutes with heightened vigilance – a temporary adaptation to what many hope won’t become a permanent reality on Winnipeg’s transit system.
