A day as a Taxi Driver

By Tumusiime K. Deo 

A ride in a Ugandan taxi is one of the most dreadful things to experience in our contemporary times. Interestingly many have gotten so used to the situation, reserved either because there’s no viable option or because anything below standard is, but simply Ugandan! 

Shame, oh shame-and says who that Ugandans deserve not to ride in a comfortable and commuter taxi? 

The few times I have boarded a taxi in Kampala, it has felt no better than riding on an old wheel barrow-the rattling noise from half-fixed car parts; tattered and smelly seats; windows that are simply ajar; no seatbelts; abusive taxi conductors; and endless stopovers occasioned by an unfortunate culture of either lazy or spoilt passengers, are a daily welcome refreshment. 

There being no designated boarding and drop off stages, crafty Ugandans simply improvise; everyone wants to be dropped closest to their final destination and passengers chaotically call the taxi to a halt so frequently. 

Some people are so shameless asking the driver to stop three meters after another passenger has alighted- a distance so walkable. This status of affairs makes it so difficult for one to plan one’s journey. You’d be better off always reserving an hour simply to waste on a taxi ride.

So you hear someone say so often that; “Mumas’awo” meaning that they are alighting right ahead. This “right ahead” is sometimes so undefined, yet passengers have the audacity to complain when dropped off a metre or so past their intended destination, at times known to them alone. 

In many other instances, you will hear people say; “Ku kasasilo” meaning one is alighting off by the rubbish bin; or “Ku muti omunene” meaning near a big tree; or “Ku kalian” meaning near a storeyed building; or “ku Porko” meaning next to the pork joint; or “Ku kyambuka” this is no English equivalent; or “ku bimuli” meaning near flowers; or “ku Transformer” meaning near the Transformer. 

And to my own home in Buziga, we normally say, “Ku kyabasilaamu” directly translated to mean, next to the road for Moslems-though ideally the road in question leads to an Islamic Institute. 

I always identified my uncle’s home by a nearby pork kiosk; but one day the business collapsed and the joint was disbanded. So happened that the driver of the taxi I boarded on this fateful day was pretty new in the business and the pork join was nothing familiar to him. 

As a result, I was taken over two Kilometers past my destination, and to add salt to the wound, it was a rainy day. God knows how I looked like moments after disembarking: Completely d-r-e-n-c-h-e-d. 

Question: How did we get here? Business in Uganda has been so liberalized that it has now reached such alarming levels. It might take quite some years to get all the taxi facades off our roads, but it might take much longer to re-align the mindset of taxi owners, drivers and some passengers. 

However, while it may seem rather impossible to redeem the situation, we must start to embrace change NOW. Life is so precious that the little time you spend on the road ought to be as rewarding as possible. 

However, many people are already so tired soon after arriving their workplaces! For those subjected to taxi conditions on long journeys, reaching in one piece takes the intervention of all guardian angels wherever they are. 

So on this cold morning I decide to do taxi business for a day. Alone in my car, I stopped at one point and picked up two passengers. I had space for four. I found the next pair of passengers about ten metres away and the car was now full. 

Comfort for my passengers was a priority-so I was careful not to take any excess. As we drove on, I played for them some cool music from Don Williams; chatted occasionally; and shared with them some sweets I had bought the previous day. I was smartly dressed as usual, and spoke to my passengers with utmost kindness. 

My first challenge was whether to charge more than the normal fares since mine was a special taxi, but my conscience couldn’t allow. So they paid Sh1000 to town each, which is less than half a Dollar. 

The total amount I earn was Sh4000, which is Sh1000 less than what it would take to have a car wash and just enough for a litre of fuel! I asked myself: Just how do these taxis survive while charging so less? 

Little wonder our taxis are what they are-shameful. My “taxi” may have been only a four-seater and therefore fetching less, but for some distances, 14-seater taxis charge as less as Sh300!!! 

I am not sure after my experience I would ever want to be a taxi driver; but if I were to venture into that business again, my taxi would cause a revolution: Cool music, soothing attention, smartly dressed driver, comfortable seats, no frequent stopovers, some mint to freshen your breath, Magazines to read, nice perfume, and service with a smile. 

Will you board my taxi? 

Writer is an International Communications Consultant