About a year ago I wrote this post about getting round Kampala on the back of a boda, or boda boda, a motorcycle acting as a taxi. It is remarkable how quickly something which starts of as completely unthinkable becomes entirely normal. A number of colleagues stop and offer me lifts in their cars if they see me walking to school (thank you, particularly, HH!) which is kind, otherwise, pretty well the only time I’ve been in car since being in Uganda has been going to and from the airport. If it’s beyond walking distance – or, in the case of going to church, if I don’t want to arrive as a hot sweaty mass – then automatically I use a boda, it’s become entirely normal.
The issue of going on a boda came up in conversation recently with a fellow mzungu (white person) who goes everywhere by car, she asked me if I didn’t find it scary? I can honestly answer no, I’ve actually been much more scared in a car in Tanzania (Mum and Dad, if you’re reading this, you may remember the incident to which I’m referring when I drove you to the airport in Dar es Salaam as you were leaving after your visit in 2013). More than anything else I like the sense of almost continuous movement, even if slow at times, whereas on 4 wheels you’re much, much more likely to be spending huge amounts of time in traffic jams.
There are a number of reasons I’ve been thinking about bodas recently. I was walking home a few weeks ago, not thinking about anything in particular, when I came to the conclusion that the maximum number of people I’d seen on a boda was 5. Then to observe a driver and 6 young children, so 7 altogether, on a boda, two of the children in front of the driver sitting on the petrol tank. For a few days after this I ran a little competition amongst colleagues and students, who has seen the most people on a boda? Whilst my student D drew with me at 7, I concede defeat to her on the grounds that one of her passengers was an adult, all of mine were small children. And whilst J’s count was a mere 5, it is noteworthy because all 5 of his were adults, with one of the passengers in front of the driver if you can imagine that. It has occurred to me to worry about what happens in the event of an accident, but try not to do so on the grounds that I need to be able to sleep at night…..
As I walk to and from school / church / supermarkets / etc. I very frequently get offered lifts which I politely decline. The frequency comes up very noticeably when I’m carrying a helmet, either because I’m on the way to school intending to go somewhere afterwards, or on the way back from church having taken a boda there. I can see from a boda driver point of view, struggling to make a living, that it is annoying to see wazungu walking when, as they would not entirely unreasonably assume, they can afford to pay the fare (which is remarkably low by western standards), and even more annoying when the mzungu is carrying a helmet – why on earth would you do that if you don’t want a boda ride? Have to say, my polite refusal is almost always accepted very graciously, thank you guys, I fully understand that making a living is tough.
I was slightly bemused, a few weeks ago, when I was offered a ride by a driver who had an assistant, a young child sitting up front. And also on the occasion when I was offered a ride by a driver who already had a passenger, a security guard complete with rifle. But you have a passenger, says I. No, he’s arrived at where he wants to go, shall we go? No thank you, says I, I want to walk. A couple of minutes later the boda overtakes me with the security guard back on. But you said that he…. Probably better not to overthink this incident.
If you come to this part of the world, do bring a helmet with you and experience this way of getting around, it has a great deal to commend it. And, in conclusion, my thanks to Michael, my original boda driver who is now working in the Middle East, and Vicent who is the first person I call when I need a ride now. Vicent, you are fantastic. If I ask you to come at 9am then I don’t bother to check, I just go to the meeting place at 9am and there you are. You drive really well. You wait for me if I’ve gone some distance however long it is that I need to be there. On the rare occasion when you are not available, you arrange for a colleague to come instead. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for all your help, I really appreciate it.
Meanwhile, to all my Muslim readers, a very happy Eid celebration to you all. And to those in the UK, enjoy the bank holiday. Thank you for reading, I’ll be back in touch again soon!
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