The one with the 2k note dude

I’ve just sat in the taxi. It’s 7:44 pm. The taxis are all packed in the park. None is leaving. None is entering. I could see this from Burton Street as I got off the Safe Boda that brought me. It was not also direct to reach my destination stage, Entebbe Road Stage. I had to take a longer route because the taxis blocked the way.

Before I forget, how unlucky can I be to sit at the very spot at the back of the taxi for two days in a row now! Yesterday was even better. Today, I am going to feel the distressing experience of all the humps and potholes. Already, as we are manoeuvring out of the park, I can feel every other sudden stop, hump or depression we hit. Aargh!

We are out of the park now. We have been able to circumvent the jam by dodging the usual gazetted route of the taxis using Entebbe Road. They get out of the park using the southwestern exit, cross Burton Street into the street between Mega Standard Supermarket and 2K Restaurant and then turn right into Seikh Street. I hope that’s the name of that street which is between the Shell Clocktower station and the building we now call Shoprite even after Shoprite closed business in Uganda and the space is now occupied by Carrefour. That’s the usual route they take leading to a junction where they join the Entebbe Road. Now, it is that junction which causes all this jam. Although there are traffic lights, these are never followed or enforced because the traffic police are there to assume the lights’ role. Instead of ensuring that road users comply with the lights, they ignore them and then start guiding the cars, allowing cars from one road to cross at a time. This is common at major junctions in the city. I have never understood the logic behind but that will be a discussion for another day.

Now, for a great part of this journey, I’ve had to keep off my phone for fear of theft. I didn’t tell you this yesterday, but this is one of the dangers of sitting by the window in a taxi. This particular window has no lock. But I slid it to close it although this is still risky. So, as I was still typing and at the point where I talked about the usual exit route of the taxis from the park, the lady seated at the end of this three-seater back seat, by the other window, intimated that I better hide the phone lest it is snatched. I didn’t respond, but I took a glance at the window to ensure that it was perfectly close and tucked in. Meanwhile, the gentleman seated between us tried to respond to her. She made it clear that she referred to me. The gentleman then told her that it seemed like I had ensured safety by closing the window. This was not enough, confirmed the lady. She followed this with a caution that I should still put it away because these goons won’t be deterred by a closed window which can be opened. She even gave evidence of a snatch she witnessed when her neighbour’s phone was grabbed despite having closed the window.

I started assessing the risk of the phone being grabbed. I know the city very well and I am alive to the risk of theft. But I have travelled long enough to have mastered the art of swiftness in case of any attempt as well as consciousness or a sense of danger by always being on the lookout. So I looked at the window again. It hit me that a slight push of the window could slide it well open in a fraction of a second, which is enough for a Kampala pickpocket and thief to make his catch. While I was still making up my mind, the lady said another caution, which sent a shiver through my tired body.

‘But he can keep using the phone if he’s sure the window is closed. If he loves the phone and wants to keep it, he will put it away,’ said the lady nonchalantly. Now, as much as I am tired of this stupid old Tecno Pouvoir 3 Air that I hold, I don’t want to lose it now before I get myself another. So I pressed the power button, turning off the phone screen light.

By this time, we were at Ben Kiwanuka Street having used another route via the northwestern exit crossing the same street into another and turning left to join Swaminarayan Street which leads back to the Ben Kiwanuka via a Y junction at the Total station there. Now, I didn’t know that the space (car parking) for the workers at the Shoprite building was open at night to allow other cars passage. That is how we were able to rejoin Seikh Street which leads into the Entebbe Road. In fact, I must say that Swaminarayan Street is a one-way street allowing passage to the citycentre not away from it. Therefore, we had done wrong to enter it and use it to get out of the city centre.

Now, I must also say that we stayed long in the jam and used about 45 minutes to cross from that junction at Shell Clocktower station to the Kibuye Airtel Clocktower roundabout. All this time, my phone was away and all I was thinking was the fast passing time. I am supposed to be home by 9 pm and looking at the time now, it is 8:52 pm and I am not yet close. I still have another 20 minutes to reach my destination stage|stop. That is if there won’t be jam around Kitende because we are now in Kajjansi. But we are moving at a good speed and I hope I’ll not be so late. In any case, I strictly should not delay past 10 pm. Should I, I’ll sleep outside home and not sleep there ever again. This is how strict my home curfew is and I don’t want to find out whether this will actually happen or not.

This taxi is also boring. Guys are quiet. But at least it is noisier than yesterday’s. Yeah. There is someone playing soft gospel music. I am not sure if it is the car radio playing. Wait, what just happened? Let me tell you. On my left, this dude seated right beside me handed a note to the conductor and said he would be getting off at the Kitende stage. That was still in Kajjansi, but at a second stop in the same town, which I suspect confused this guy. So, on examination, the conductor argues he’s been handed a two thousand shillings note, which is quite less than the fare for Kitende. Dude replies stating that he hadn’t seen the note clearly and makes a movement to get out. Well, the conductor reechoes his complaint I suspect having not heard the dude. Dude angrily acknowledges the mistake and says that he’s getting out to pay the balance. At this point, the conductor asks whether we have reached Kitende and the dude realises maybe that we haven’t. I think this guy just didn’t know the place well. So he sits again. Removes a five thousand shillings note and hands it over to the conductor, who hands back the change.

But for my typing, I would have said something. These conductors are not to be always trusted without a second thought. They are potentially manipulative and cunning. But since this guy did seem to agree with the conductor, I suspected he could have been genuine. Anyways, he later got off when we reached Kitende albeit in the outskirts.

I am now on a boda (motorcycle) heading home having gotten off at my stop. Thank God I am on time and won’t have to sleep outside today. Allow me pen off here, later edit this and post. Cheers!