Last Day in Uganda

This morning one of my colleagues insisted I take a matasu (size of an old VW Van but with 15 seats crowded in) with 4 other volunteers downtown to get a latte and a scone. Up to this point, I had only taken private hire cars with drivers recommended by HVO or walked to my destinations when possible. By sharing rides, it was quite inexpensive – equivalent to $4 to $8 for a 15 minute to 30 minute drive. However, the matasu was the equivalent of 50 cents each for a longer ride. The downside is being squeezed into a crowded and hot van. At any rate, I relented but refused to take a bota bota ride back from the coffee house.

As we entered the intersection and waited for an opening to dodge across the street to catch a matasu, a full size bus came up the street at a good speed at the very moment an older Ugandan woman stepped off the curb, oblivious to the oncoming bus. Helplessly, we stood on the curb to see the inevitable. The bus hit her full force, throwing her to the ground. The only thing that saved her was the driver reacted quickly and slammed on the brakes. We and several Ugandan men ran to help her. We were able to get her to the center divider and a taxi stopped to take her to Mulago Hospital which was right up the street. One of my colleagues took the license plate number of the bus and gave it to the taxi driver. The bus took off as soon as we cleared the woman out of the way. The driver never got out of the bus.

Later, I spoke with a doctor who is Nigerian but lives in New Jersey and spends a lot of time in Uganda and S. Africa. He said it is not uncommon for a driver who has hit someone to back up and drive over them a second time to make certain death was immediate. That way, the victim can not testify against him. When they go to court, the magistrate is paid off. Life is cheap and corruption thrives.

We did manage to get downtown and enjoy our lattes and scones. Anita, a doctor friend from Boston, and I returned to the guest house while the others decided to shop at the craft market. I needed to get back to pack and be ready for an early pick up at 5pm for the 10:45 pm flight. I was at the airport at 6pm and couldn’t check in until 8pm. As luck would have it, a lovely Rwandan graduate student on her way back to London for school, sat down next to me. We chatted for a few minutes before she opened her computer and invited me to join her in watching a movie she had downloaded. About half way through, my flight was called for check in, so we said our goodbyes, and I checked in and made for the business and first class lounge as fast as my legs could carry me. Thank heaven for frequent flyer miles and Joe’s calling regularly to see if an upgrade opened up!

It is now 9:20 pm, so I have an hour + before departure. ……