A sour ending to a fun weekend

The weekend adventures and mishaps did not end with the broken down vehicles. On our way back, around an hour or so outside of Kampala, we had quite a disturbing experience.
To be honest, I was dosing at the time, so I'm not sure how accurate my synopsis is, but the others have filled in all the details for me. A car overtook us and I heard my friend who was driving shout 'oh my god'. The car in front of us had hit a guy who appeared from nowhere and jumped out in front of their car. I'm glad I didn't see the details, otherwise it would have been even more unnerving. We pulled over and so did the car in front. A couple of very shaken looking muzungus emerged from the car.
Many people say that if you hit somebody in the car here, you should just drive on. Mob justice often prevails here and tempers flare rapidly when a friend or family member has been injured. But in all honesty, who has it in them to do that? I once bumped my car on the M25 and there were no injuries, only my little Fiesta came to any harm, but I was very shaken all the same. I just had to stop. It's human nature. If you don't stop, how can you live with your conscience?
We had a little dilemma in our car. Should we get involved and try to help? But if we all got out, then we would risk aggravating the situation more. Besides which, it is always better to try to avoid getting implicated in anything that may involve a court case here.
The police arrived and miraculously an ambulance arrived within ten minutes. This was the best looking ambulance I have ever seen in Uganda. We have since heard that the man was not too badly injured and that he is recovering well. We also heard that he was very drunk and that the police were quite sympathetic. This is comforting compared to all of the horror stories that circulate.
However, the whole event made me think how we take our lives in our hands on a daily basis here. We may have camped in a national park, surrounded by hippos, lions and elephants but the real risks here in Uganda are much more mundane. If the man had run out five seconds afterwards, then our car would have hit him. It could happen to any of us and it is probably the worst nightmare for all of us.

A brush with the law

Today I was charged with ‘dangerous driving’. Apparently I didn’t give way when turning onto a roundabout. Funny – given the number of times I have had to slam on my brakes whilst already ON a roundabout, I thought the rule was to drive headlong onto them and then give way to approaching vehicles.

Anyway, I was pulled over by the police station and even though I knew I had done nothing wrong, I realised I was standing on shaky ground. I still have my UK licence as I haven’t got the foggiest how you are supposed to trade it in for the Ugandan version and my car is still not registered in my name for the same reason. I decided to suck it up and cut my losses.

The police lady filled in the form and asked when I was going to go to the bank to pay the fine. Well, there is no time like the present, so I decided it would be easier to get it done there and then. So Madam Police-lady got in the car and we drove up to the bank so I could pay my debt to society.

As we drove up the hill the heavens opened and the traffic thickened. I suggested parking at the shopping centre across the road, as I feared being charged for yet another driving offence, should I park in the wrong manner.

“But Madam,” says the WPC, “ it is raining, we will get dirty!”

Thus ensued a discussion over the Ugandan traffic police uniform – pure white, gloves and all. She told me it was a total nightmare and that she had to soak it all day and scrub for hours with plenty of Omo to get it clean. I suggested they change their uniform to a colour more suited to the Ugandan environment, dusty orange perhaps! She thought it was a good idea.

As it was after 2pm on a Saturday, I wondered whether the bank would still be open. I was in luck. This particular branch has extended hours to cope with the numerous traffic fines they receive each day. The bank teller told me they process over thirty traffic fines a day!

Minutes later and forty-two thousand Shillings worse off I handed the slip to the policewoman and she set off, clipboard in hand, to snare more drivers. Let’s hope she stopped some of the less innocent ones next time …

You know you're back in Uganda when ...

1. The guard greets you on arrival back home and helpfully carries your heavy suitcases up 6 flights of stairs.
2. Cash not cards - no more chip and pinning for a while!
3. You invest in a serious amount of candles in preparation for the power cuts that are planned to take place every other day until the water levels rise in the Nile so that enough electricity can be generated to meet demand.
4. The house is spotlessly clean when you get home from work because the magic washing up and cleaning fairy has been in.
5. You are told that you are looking very fat by a colleague - and this is meant to be a compliment. So glad I bothered to run 4 times a week throughout the holiday ...
6. You don't recall adding black pepper to your meal ... then realise that's because weevils took residence in your bag of opened pasta during the holidays.
7. It takes over half an hour to drive a 500 metre stretch of road to the shopping centre.
8. The shower of rain at lunchtime is so heavy that 5 colleagues prefer to stay squished inside a tiny Rav 4 rather than risk a soaking.
9. You have to slam on the brakes whilst driving on a roundabout.
10. The screech of seagulls has been replaced by the incessant howling of dogs and the cacophonous caw of hornbills!

Oh Uganda!