Independence: The collapse of the transport system and hope for the future

In the run up to Independence Day on October 9, New Vision, in a special series, explores our shared destiny



One of the most drastic changes in Kampala's life after the economic disruption that started in 1972 was the death of the bus as the basic means of public transport. Like any modern city, Kampala had a passenger bus service that workers and school children used daily as a routine.

The bus service was run by Uganda Transport Company (UTC), whose brand colours were green and gold. It is difficult to describe the Kampala public transport under UTC to somebody who has not been to a city where buses work properly, but let us try with some illustrative facts:

Between the UTC terminal on Channel (now Ben Kiwanuka) Street and Mulago Hospital, there were 10 buses (times two), moving in either direction at any given time.

• Until the mid-1970s, the basic fare in the city by UTC was 30 cents (100 cents made one shilling until May 1987, when the cents were abolished), while the lowest labourer's monthly wage was about 200 shillings. A freshly employed graduate earned sh1,800.

• The total population of Kampala was about 300,000 people, a tenth of the city's daytime population today.

• Children were not being driven in private cars to primary schools, everybody travelled by bus or walked until the mid-1970s.

• Drivers and conductors were all formally employed as professionals, wearing uniform and acting with utmost discipline.

 THE DEATH OF THE BUS 

As the economic malaise started to bite, UTC's fleet started dwindling as spare parts could not be procured in time. Overloading started and adherence to timetable slipped. It did not take long for the UTC to become dysfunctional like other public companies did, and the new enterprising spirit of Ugandans stepped in to fi ll the gap.

The commuter taxis had always been small station wagons, the last dominant model being Peugeot 404 that sat eight passengers, but they plied trunk roads, not the city. As the buses collapsed, individual entrepreneurs started trying out minibuses on city routes to meet the demand for transport. Volkswagen Kombis were tried out, as were old Land Rovers, apparently boarded off from the police.

Then, Mercedes Benz, yes, Mercedes Benz, 25 passenger mini-buses almost took over from the mid-1970s. These were possibly the last brand-new PSV equipment on the city roads, before the era of reconditioned Japanese vehicles set in during the second half of the 1970s decade.



 NEW TRANSPORT SYSTEM 

Used Nissan and Toyota commuters then became the basic means of public transport in Kampala, until today. Over the ensuing four decades, Uganda's taxi industry has developed to employ tens of thousands of people.

Kampala's deceptively rowdy transport sub-sector, manned by apparently nasty, rude, unkempt drivers and conductors, is paradoxically one of the country's most efficient economic subsectors. Relying a hundred percent second-hand equipment, a woefully underdeveloped infrastructure/ road network and a weak regulatory atmosphere, the industry serves the urban population with clockwork efficiency unheard of in most other sectors.

Most comparisons to the Kampala taxi industry would, in fact, appear unkind. Consider, for example, the ‘efficiency' of the public housing sector manned by sophisticated, highly educated professionals and a whole ministerial portfolio to ensure it enjoys cabinet policy attention.

The government still controls millions of acres of land, which the public housing sector does not have to buy in order to develop. The public housing agency does not even need cash capital to develop housing estates since it can get the house buyers to pre-finance the construction, with government acting as guarantor (since it can even foreigners' loans).

And over 90% of the building materials can be found in those lands owned by the government. But we only hear lamentations from the public housing agency when they report on the state of housing, which invariably, monotonously cites a one millions units deficit for Kampala. So let us be kind and not compare the output of the public housing agency and the taxi men. We can only quietly keep wishing it was the taxi men in charge of housing.

The rudeness of Kampala's taxi-men is really a necessity of their trade in the circumstances. It is not cultural, for they come from all corners of the country, though the north for now seems to be underrepresented.

Their conduct is not characteristic of any tribe — it is Kampala's reality in this shared space. They need it to secure unhesitant compliance from the passengers as a way of ensuring they meet their daily revenue targets.

 MANAGEMENT OF TAXIS 

Those rowdy young men you see operate in what could be the most self-regulated industry. Organised and supervised under ‘stages' or more accurately, routes, they have very strict operating codes and procedures. The fares chargeable are standardised even as they vary according to time of day, density of traffic and even the weather. Their pricing is virtually similar to online airline tickets — minus computers.

The manning of the vehicle is agreed upon with the owner, who puts it in the fleet with the driver and conductor closely supervised by the stage management. This management also runs the stage co-operative society (SACCOS), which does a thorough job to ensure that the members do not mess their personal finances, and things like children's school fees that disturb other professionals are well catered for.

Many of these stage SACCOS have branched into buying land for different purposes, including those relevant to their work, such as petrol stations. A close look at the Kampala taxi industry can make you wish these fellows were in charge of some government departments.

However, fascinating as the taxi industry may be, it is just an improvisation that has gone on for too long. In the general sense, it is not sustainable to have 10,000 old engines running across the crowded city of a poor country that imports all the fuel. Dirty fuel at that.



 NEED FOR HYBRID SYSTEM 

A modern city needs a hybrid public transport system and Kampala's transport masterplan ought to address this. With all major world vehicle manufacturers issuing their deadlines to stop producing fuel combustion engines (Volvo already stopped), consumers should also invoke their sovereignty and state deadlines for allowing pollutant vehicles and Kampala should not be an exception.

Fortunately, Uganda as a nation/government, through the Kiira Electric Vehicle initiative, is already thinking and taking practical steps to electrify road transport. If, as promised, Kiira Motors starts supplying electric buses, then the temporary necessary evil of taxis does not have to hang around forever. A clean city with fresh air will be possible.

However, electric buses will need to be accompanied by a stiff levy on private petrol/diesel vehicles entering Kampala, if the city is to really be clean. Hybrid engine would also be exempted from the levy because at low city levels, they rely only on battery.

To fathom the effect of such an administrative transformation, just close your eyes and imagine a Kampala without the sound of engines. That quiet would also be reflected in the cleanliness of the air you would be breathing. Yes, Kampala can retrace the good old days of UTC, but do it clean this time using electric buses.

Everything must be done to promote orderliness and minimise pollution in the city. To paraphrase the conservationists' maxim, Kampala does not belong to us; we borrowed it from the future generation. We need to return it to them in a decent state.

As published in the New Vision of September 27, 2019: Vision Group Resource Centre