6th August 2013!!! Wow!! It is so amazing how time flies!!! I cannot believe that I last visited this page in 2011!! And though I abandoned this page, today I was pleasantly surprised to find that  4 people had visited it in the last 24 hours. Whether it was by accident or intentional, I  must say I am very humbled.

Today marks the beginning of my on and off writing journey. I know I have always wanted to make a comeback but have been very lazy. However, this time, I am very serious about it. I believe that I have made the step that has helped me move from " wow that is a nice story"to " I have to write and post this on my blog!".

I love to write and therefore, I see no reason why I shouldn't! Let me start by posting the first article I wrote after my long drought. An article on a subject that I am passionate about- Adolescent Sexual and Reproductive Health. It sounds like a mouthful...well it is :) It is a topic with a multi dimensions but in simple English, it  aims at ensuring that young people are given relevant information, skills and equipment that can help them make informed decisions and take appropriate actions towards their reproductive and sexual health.

Well here is the article as published in two Ugandan newspapers ; The New Vision of July 24th 2013 and The Daily Monitor of July 26th 2013:

Let's face it, young people need condoms

Educating young people about condoms is one of the hottest and most controversial debates in Uganda. People opposed to it claim that young people are innocent and, therefore, once given information about condoms will be encouraged to initiate sex and eventually become immoral.

The opponents always advance two options for young people; either abstain from sex or if married be faithful to their sexual partner.

However, while there is no doubt that these options offer effective protection from pregnancy and sexually transmitted infections, they do not cater for a certain percentage of young people. Those who are sexually active.

Much as the ideal would be for every young unmarried person to abstain, the 2011 Uganda Demographic Health Survey (UDHS) paints a different picture.  The survey reveals that by the age of 18, six out of 10 women and five out of 10 men are sexually active. Currently, one in four girls aged 10 to 19 years are either pregnant or have given birth.

The New Vision newspaper of July 17, 2013 carried a story about an increase of sexually transmitted diseases - gonorrhoea and Syphilis especially among teenage girls. Sexually transmitted infections can increase the risk of sexual transmission of HIV which currently is at three percent for women and less than one percent for men aged 12- 19 years.

Young people’s sexual actions have well documented consequences for both the individual and the country’s major health indicators. According to the United Nations Population Fund, complications from pregnancy and child birth are the leading cause of death among girls aged 15 to 19.  Of the 7,000 women who die due to pregnancy related conditions in Uganda each year, 55% are adolescents.

Therefore, much as we would like to follow the ideal situations as promoted by our cultural, religious and community values and beliefs, we need to be realistic. Not all young people actually abstain from sex.

A 2008 report by Guttmacher Institute on the sexual and reproductive health needs of young people in Uganda revealed that though they desire to wait till marriage, most times sex is not planned for. When that happens, condoms should be the solution.

Condoms are the only method that provides dual protection from unintended pregnancies and from sexually transmitted infections including HIV/AIDS.

The idea to educate children about using condoms is increasingly taking root in Uganda. The 2011 UDHS shows that more than six in 10 adults in Uganda agree that children age 12-14 should be taught about using condoms to avoid contracting HIV/AIDS.

Other studies conducted in several countries have delinked condom education from promoting sexual behaviour. Instead, it empowers the young person to delay initiation of sexual intercourse, decreases the frequency of sexual intercourse and number of sexual partners.

While many young people already know where to access the condoms, they don’t know how to correctly use the condoms. Condom education in all places frequented by young people whether public or private should be done to empower young people with the skills to demand for safer sex practices should the situation arise.

In addition, the service providers in both public and private service outlets should be trained to be more welcoming and accessible to young people.

While addressing the various underlying factors that push adolescents to initiate sex, we should also cater for those who are already in the sexually active boat. Burying our heads in the sand will not make the situation go away.

If the young people are not able to abstain from sex, they should at least have a good plan B of Condoms to protect them from two big reproductive health burdens that this country is grappling with; Sexually Transmitted Infections and unintended pregnancies.

Hours in the shoes of a midwife

BY RITAH MWAGALE.

A baby lies in the corner of the room wrapped in pink shawl quietly nibbling onto his thumb. Unknown to him four steps away behind a maroon mackintosh curtain is his dark complexioned mother Betty lying on a black polythene (kaveera) on top of a delivery bed. Betty is being given three misoprostol tablets to control bleeding because she has just given birth to her second baby who is lying on the corner so oblivious to what is going on around him.All this is happening in Ward four which is the Labour ward of Soroti Regional Referral Hospital. On entry into the labour ward there are three old and rusty delivery beds that almost fill up the four (4)

metres long and six (6) metres wide room. The three beds are covered with green mackintoshes and separated in between by maroon mackintosh curtains.

I had the opportunity to enter this enigmatic room when I was observing five (5) of the 24 midwives from the Teso region that AMREF Safe Motherhood Programme is training in Emergency Obstetric Care and Life Saving Skills. As part of the training, the midwives from the districts of Kumi, Bukedea, Soroti, Kaberamaido and Amuria were supposed to have practical sessions in selected hospitals and health facilities to improve on their skills in conducting and managing deliveries.

When I entered the labour ward, at half past 9am, it was already in a buzz. My welcoming sight was of a light skinned woman in her twenties seated naked on the delivery bed screaming “Doctor, help me!” “Musawo (Doctor), baby is painful” and “Iam not going to ever get pregnant again!” While s she kept repeating these three statements , the midwife dressed in a pink uniform was listening and cajoling her to sip the black tea that she( the midwife) held in a blue plastic mug.

Being a first timer inside a delivery room, I was surprised and scared at the same time. Delivery rooms have always been surrounded with a lot of mystery. I had always imagined that there would be blood spilled everywhere; the smell of medicine and women being slapped around. Since I was scared to look at the screaming woman, I focused on everything in the room but her. I was pleasantly surprised to note that there was no blood spilled on the floor. Later, I learnt that this was because every time a woman vomited, defecated or had a spill of blood, it was quickly wiped away with a squeezer and water containing jik. There was also no “medicine” smell that characterises hospitals.

In addition, within that period, I learnt four things about the screaming woman. One, her name was Aisha. Two that was her first pregnancy, three she spoke only Luganda and lastly no one spoke Luganda in that room. The last discovery by default meant that I had to translate what the midwife was saying and viceversa. That was when I mustered the courage to look at Aisha. She had an expression of pain on her face and beads of sweat on her forehead. My eyes roamed downwards slowly until I saw the head of her baby trying to stick out. I quickly l

ooked away in shock but since I had caught sight of it, my eyes became more curious. By the time Aisha delivered 20 minutes later I was accustomed to the sight. I was so excited when the baby’s head finally popped out and within 30 seconds, the full baby was delivered and placed first on its mother’s stomach. I could hear Aisha scream excitedly, “

Musawo (doctor), I have given birth to a baby!” After drying the baby, the midwife held up the baby to Aisha and she became even more excited. She turned to the midwife and announced with deep pride, “Musawo, my baby is a boy!” Musawo I have given birth to a baby boy!” this she went on saying for a long time until she was led out of the delivery room.

Just as Aisha was leaving, another woman was entering the ward holding her black polythene, blue lesu (wrapper) and 4 pairs of gloves. All she said to me in Ateso was “The baby is coming!” One of the trainee midwives quickly led her to the delivery bed and within 3 minutes, I heard the baby cry. A baby boy. At 24 years, this was her fourth pregnancy. As soon as the midwife delivered her placenta, she got up and put on her blue and white skirt and blouse and sat on her delivery bed watching as the midwife examined her baby and cut his cord.

After her came two more mothers who occupied two of the three beds. With one bed left, the midwives decided to attend to those who most needed attention. Therefore as mothers continued to flock into the ward, some with their attendants in tow; the midwives first examined each one of them. Those who were found not to be in active labour were asked to go out of the room ,drink lots of cold water and walkabout until their time was up.

This action didn’t go down well with some mothers who I later learnt were carrying their first pregnancies. They therefore chose to sit outside the labour ward door and wail. One first time mother even refused to get off the delivery bed even when the midwife told her that she had five more hours to go. She just wanted to be delivered. Period.

After witnessing four deliveries, I quickly became part of the team. Being the only non medical professional in the room didn’t exempt me from performing some small tasks such as filling in the women’s bio data details on their admission and partograph forms and passing the gauze and cord ligatures that are used to tie the cords of the babies after delivery. The ward was purely manned by the midwives. It was not until one o’clock that I saw a doctor come in to examine a woman with seven months old pregnancy who he was notified, was bleeding. He also examined another pregnant woman who had pre- eclampsia ; a condition characterized by raised blood pressure, before making an exit.

From half past one o’clock, women started coming into the labour ward non-stop. Each spent no more than 15 minutes before delivery.

For the next one hour, the scenes played out in the same way…A mother came in screaming either “Baby is coming” or “I’am dying...” followed by a baby cry. Then the mothers once high pitched, pain filled voices, would change into calm and thankful ones, “ Oh my beautiful baby is born”….I got accustomed to the tempo and the sounds, that I could almost predict what sound would come next. It felt like I was listening to a secret midwife symphony. So when one woman gave birth and I didn’t hear her baby cry immediately, I felt my heart stop.

“Oh please God, let this baby be alive”, I silently prayed. The baby was white, and looked lifeless. I would have become more tensed had I not seen the calmness on the midwife’s face. Fifteen seconds later, the baby let out a cry and I felt like I have just been swept by a cool breeze on a very hot sunny day.

With all these deliveries taking place, the midwives also had to deal with the women’s relatives who from time to time kept coming into the room to check on the progress of their partners or daughters.

The labour ward also shared an entrance with another room where abnormally bleeding women were put. It was hard to control the inflow of bleeding patients and those wanting to deliver together with their attendants since all came into the room seeking attention. The midwives therefore had to balance between all these women. The influx of mothers took a toll on the supplies provided by African Medical Research Foundation (AMREF) for the participants training.

As more mothers flocked into the delivery room, there was a shortage of clean gloves. In the 6 hours, the midwives had used up 40 pairs of clean gloves. That was when I appreciated the 4 pairs of surgical gloves that each woman was told to come with because without them, it would have been impossible to conduct a safe delivery. I also couldn’t help but wonder how the staff midwives

in the hospital cope with the entire work load each day. How do they balance conducting deliveries and monitoring mothers who have given birth? I was informed that at times, the delivery room gets so congested that some women are delivered on the floor. We left the ward at 3:00pm and I realised that I had not drank nor eaten anything since I entered the delivery room.

Also, my feet hurt terribly since I had also been standing for six straight hours. I was so thirsty that I gulped down the mineral water bottle as if I had been in a marathon. I also couldn’t wait to eat, something that I had earlier on written off after seeing the first placenta being delivered.

I left Soroti labour ward, tired but the smile on the 10 mothers’ faces and the 10 innocent angelic faces that I saw being brought into this world made it all worthwhile. God bless all those midwives who each and every day bring babies into the world and ensure that women stay alive to see their babies grow. I left with a deep sense of understanding and respect for the midwives. Therefore before anyone criticises them, they should first walk the miles in their white shoes.

The Day one of my Stars went out...

This year came with great promises. I believed in my feelings when they said that it would be a great year. I felt all my creative juices line up and hoped that the year had all the best in store for me...but a few months into the year on Saturday February 28, 2010, something happened that changed my good feeling about this year.

One of my brightest shinning stars...Suzan or fondly known as Sue, Suzy, Sukie was taken away from me. There are no words to describe her.. she was one of those persons that had an infectious personality. She was a people person and a friend to everyone. God gave her the talent of making people feel happy. She was the source of joy in every gathering that she was in. It was not hard to spot her in a crowd. If you had a bad eye sight you certainly wouldn't be deaf too and miss out on her big, hearty laughter!!

If she met you for the first time, it would always feel like you had known her all your life. Suzan had that special gift of making everyone feel special.

Whenever I walked with her, I would get prepared to have so many stop overs and detours. It wasnt strange for her to propose a place and then just as we are making our way there, she would geta phone call just then change the plans and pursue another "proggie" ( short for programme) as she used to call it... and If you werent careful, she would end up making you walk from one place to another. But you would only feel the pain in your feet after you have departed.

I don't know what it was. Was it her positivity, her friendly attitude, her positive energy or her infectious smile that let her get away with most things...? I will never know...

But one thing I know is that she was talented and had a lot of love to give. She loved her husband, contemporary dance, art, children, travel, shopping, her dogs, her plants and people. Its no wonder that it seems like the whole world came to see her off.

She was a gem, a unique character. I will never forget the way she shocked us on her wedding when she wore a black wedding dress with a black head wrap to cover her long dreadlocks!! She was so stunning and only Suzan could pull that off!!

Oh my dear friend, I really miss you a lot...But I know that God had a reason for putting you in this earth and I thank HIM for your life for all the great things that you shared with me and all those who knew you.

Adieu my dear and May God rest your soul in Eternal peace.

Happy New Year 2010

Oh 2010 has come in. I wonder if it will be like a knight in shinning armour? It was ushered in so beautifully with lots of excitement and a huge display of fireworks. Gone are the days when there was only one place where Ugandans would view a fireworks display.... ten years ago, if you werent at the Sheraton gardens when the clock struck 12am, you were considered to be an outcast!! Everyone from all walks of life would gather and marvel at the fireworks display.

But today thanks to the world being a global village and financial improvement, some people can afford to have a 10 minute fireworks display! So whether you are in church or sitting in your compound at home, you can catch a glimpse of the spectacular display!

Well, 2010 is here! I wonder what she has in store for each one of me and eachone of us. I have waited for her with lots of mixed feelings; with a part of me not wanting her predecessor (2009) to end!! I am not ashamed to admit it that 2009such a good year. I made some personal and professional strides during that year and I was sad to let it go. I kinda felt widowed when it left!

When the fireworks lit the sky at midnite on Dec 31, 2009, I said adieu to one of my greatest years.

And ofcourse like each one of you, I wonder what this year will bring. I know that the beginning is going to be a little shaky..it has been like that for me ever since I learnt numbers and the alphabet... so I know it will take a while before I can confidently write or say that I am in 2010!

However, unlike the previous years when I would curl up in my bed on 31st Dec and make resolutions, I have decided not to!! I will just go where the chips fall!! I am going to try my luck and see where it takes me.

Some of the good foundations that were started in 2009 are following me into 2010 and I hope that the great moments and good luck that I had last year will follow me through not only this year but for many more years to come.

I would like to thank everyone who made my 2009 a great year. However small you think your contribution was, it meant the world to me. May God be with you and reward each one of you abundantly.

Happy new year good people, May 2010 be your year....a year of good achievements, happiness and good health.

God bless y'all

The Education of Miss Rita

Colin, a friend of mine told me that there is a good film done probably in the 1980s or 1990s with the subject head of this article. Though I have never had time to watch this film despite Colin's high ratings, I will honor it with by naming this piece's title after it!! This ia bwcause I think the title is appropriate for my circumstances.

After elaborating on why I chose the title, I think I can safely break the reason as to why the title. Well, after over five years away from formal education, I am back to school!!! On thank you ...now stop clapping and the undulations..:)

This year, I am definitely on a roll! First it was the 3 month stint in Japan and now this...2 years pursuing a Masters degree in Public Health in one of the local universities in Uganda.
I started yesterday and it is really a challenge...a challenge that I am going to love. I didnt know how rusty and closer to adult learners I was until yesterday. It was an eye opener!! My mind kept running all over the place...it was amazing how a over 5 years later I cannot concentrate like I did when I was doing my undergraduate.
The university is lovely and lecturers are very nice. My class is an interesting collection of people from all walks of life. There are medical professionals as well as bankers and teachers! This has made class more interesting because each of these persons brings unique contributions to discussions. Though the course is hectic...since I am at school for only 3 weeks and after every 3 months, I am sure its going to be one of the best experiences of my life. Just keep watching the space.

Sports Day or rather circus day

I really don’t know what it was. But we all stayed standing in the hot sun cheering! We looked like we had been glued to our positions. Or like we were being paid to be extras in some movie.
The higher the sun rose, the more we cheered on. When our throats got dry, we opened our big bags and drunk so more water...or quickly ran to the water seller under the big jackfruit tree and bought a cold soda!
It simply was magic and fun watching as adults in all colours and sizes screamed and clapped their hands as they cheered on their children, grand children, nephews, nieces or possibly neighbours or friend’s children on the track field.

The place was Daffodils Nursery Academy track field. The event: The annual sports day.Children all under 6 years were competing in what I think was track and field. Because from the programme I could see, relay, going to school race, ball picking race..and so many ridiculous names.
Competition it was promised was going to be tight after all, these children had been practicing for about a month.

On Saturday as we dropped them off to the field at 8am clad in tshirts of different colours to reflect their different houses. I thought to myself there was going to be WAR!! The children looked mean and tough…they were only short of painting their faces with black ink…but no.. wait a minute...these are black kids, so they don’t need black oil :) .

Ok, I take that back…been watching too many movies :)

Anyway, I should have guessed from the way they sang both the school anthem that it was far from a competition .

The games begun and like I have rightly, put it, they were games. The children run slower than tortoises and were more confused than a maze!! It was amusing the way, they crisscrossed lanes but still managed to be crowned as winners in the various categories.

My nephew and niece were placed in the same race named " Go to school". The plot was easy...run pick up a backpack from the ground, place in the container that was lined next to it and then make off to the finishing line. I saw their teacher turned "coach" give each of them lat minute instructions and my excitement grew! Now this was it...world class competition. Was about to grab the microphone from the announcer and say : " ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have all been waiting for. Now seat back and watch this world class act.And for those with kids in this competition, all I can say is : Watch as they swallow the dust"

Jared second from the right and Jasmine third from the left

My nephew started off well, picked his pack, run to the container...all the time, I was screaming...go, go, go , go Jared! But then what does he do. As soon as he zipped the bag, he waited on for his (slow) sister to finish the process. He could have been the first, but no, Jared waited till his sister finished then they run together. I didnt know whether to cheer on or cry:)Well atleast they came in 3 and 4 out of 8.

By this time, all the adults were in a frenzy cheering . I guess this noise is what pissed off some children who then decided demanding for “mummy” and “ daddy”. As the sun rose higher, announcements like “Will the parent of x please come for him/her” were more common than the soap bubbles being blown by the older kids standing at the sidelines.
The future Usain Bolts, Asafa Powell, or Florence Griffith-Joyners were no longer amused by the different t shirt colours and caps that their parents had put on to match theirs. They had played and were tired. Period!
I stopped watching the track and I enjoyed as other parents were called to pick their rebellious little ones. The kids clamped on to their parent’s legs and were soon starting a screaming or should I say lung exercising competition. Which I guess would have overpowered the set activities. I watched in amusement and openly showed it until my nephew joined the rebellious list.
From then, thanks to my nephew and several others’ cry babies the house colour I was cheering, we made it first from the bottom!

Chaos as I say Sayonara Japan

I wrote this piece as I was on transit to Nairobi from Japan. I had forgotten about it till today. It has brought back alot of memories of what happened between Japan and Nairobi.


On April 23, 2009, the moment that I knew was going to happen but wasnt really prepared for actually happened.I knew that time would come when I said bye to Okinawa. I cant believe I crossed that sayonara bridge and there were lots of tears involved. I am surely going to miss everyone.. Each one in their own special way was a star. They contributed something to my life. I am eternally grateful to each person I met in Okinawa.

My flight to Tokyo passed in a daze because part of me wasn’t believing that it had actually happened.
Now as I seat in a black chair in Schipol airport waiting for the final flight to connect, I believe
that I actually left. What has been most exciting…well it has to be the luggage fiasco at Narita airport in Japan! One of my travel mates had excess luggage. The Japanese ladies at the counter got firm on her and requested that she off loads it! It wasn’t a pretty sight. After what seemed like hours of intense discussion, we removed the excess luggage and shared the excess luggage amongst the three of us and off we went. That problem was solved.

So we head to Sakura lounge...a VIP lounge for Japanese in transit. We had some refreshments in a hurry and went to check in. After check in, I realise that I had left my beautiful army camouflaged bag (hand luggage) in the lounge. You should have seen me running back like a mad woman! I was glad that I remembered when I did- before I entered the plane! As I was passing the ladies at the check in counter…looking like Usain Bolt’s fiercest competitor, one of them stopped me. I explained and she sent one of her colleagues to bring the luggage. She told me to go and sit…as I entered the plane, the door was closed!
After 3 minutes of not hearing a thing from the hostesses and yet the plane was beginning to move to the runway, I begun to panic. I then called on another hostess and told her my plight. She left immediately with a promise to do whatever she could.

When she returned after what seemed like eternity, she informed me amidst apologies, that the luggage wasn’t on board. After she said that, all I could her was “ Sunimasen, blah,blah, blah…sunimasen..blah, blah …sunimasen”. It wasn’t her fault at all but I wasn’t interested in any other explanations or options.

All I kept thinking about was beautiful bag! Then a quick thought went to its contents! That’s when I bolted.” Oh gosh, all my connecting flights’ tickets are in that bag”. This hit me like a lightning bolt as fear gripped me like I had never known before. Luckily enough when I checked my laptop bag, there lay all my tickets!

Then the other thoughts came in Oh my bag…and its contents! “will I ever see it again” on part of me was asking…while another consoled me that since the Japanese are very organised and efficient people, they would have it delivered to me in no time. But still I couldn’t help but feel “Oh why me”!

The Japanese man seated next to me on hearing the hostess’ reply got concerned. He promised to follow up with her after we had taken off so that she through her captain can contact the ground staff and make sure that the bag is sent to me!

The flight took off with me feeling so rotten! I tried to flip through the in flight magazine but I wasn’t reading nor seeing anything! The green army bag just kept popping in all the pages!!

Ok, to cut the long story short, there is a happy ending to this. 15 minutes after take off, the air hostess I had talked to, came carrying my beautiful green bag! A calm breeze rushed through me. I am glad that my trip from Japan turned out this beautifully.
Well what do you know, the Japanese are indeed a very efficient lot! People who go the extra mile just to make something happen. Everyone does their work with such passion that its overwhelming...oh let me not start! That’s a story for another day and forum.

My worst road ever

In all my road travels, I am yet to experience a road as bad as the one leading to Nakasongola district Headquarters! What is deceptive about this road is that as one branches off the smooth tarmac highway, they are met by a rough contrast.

I can’t decide whether to call it a murram or a tarmac road because I saw more potholes than tarmac. I have nothing personal against the district. I think it is a good place and judging by the numerous herds of cattle I saw, there is no doubt that the district makes a generous contribution to the tasty meat numbers sold in the city.

The drive to the district which is supposed to be 15 minutes takes almost 30 minutes. The white double cabin pickup I was in kept dancing on or was it off the road. And with this crazy dance, our backs received the full effect. I felt my back ache like my spine was going to leave the vertebrae column!!

It was a such a nightmare that whenever the driver tried to dodge one pothole, he would instead end up hitting another!
So, in order to remedy the situation, our driver was forced to drive keeping right instead of the colonially imposed Left. The right side though also pot holed looked like heaven when compared to the left. I think the tarmac had realised that there was no pretence of it being there so it had allowed itself to be eroded.

On the right side therefore, the tarmac was visible and so we not only move faster, but our backs were also relieved of the vigorous pothole hitting exercise.
We soon forgot that keeping right was wrong. But when a white vehicle suddenly appeared in the opposite direction, we got a reality check! We were forced to rush back to the left. I could swear that we hit a million potholes in the 5 seconds we used to move to back to our side!

What is amazing however, is that the agony was immediately forgotten as soon as we reached the smooth tarmac of the highway to Kampala.

Jumping June

I cant believe that June is going so fast! It seems like yesterday when I was in April and now I am approaching July? Where have months gone? I hate it when Months and years just sneak up on you like that! Speaking of years, it seemed like yesterday when I left the University...was wet behind the ears...now I am entering a new decade of life..
How time flies by so fast!

So what have I been upto since the last blog post. Alot of stuff! Okinawa feels like a pleasant dream. I am still in touch with alot of the wonderful people that I met over there. When you are on the internet chatting with someone from Samoa, the whole world just seems like my backyard! Yesterday, the last group of people that I met in Okinawa left for their respective countries. I know I am miles away but I felt depressed. I guess I know how they feel, leaving behind such a wonderful place and people. It is really ironical that on the one hand, one cant wait to get home while on the other, they are so sad.

I cant forget my turn. It is amazing how the 3 and a half months experience just crawls under your skin and you dont know how much you are affected until its time to say good bye! So I can imagine the build up of emotions and what they are going through. But thats life...you meet to part and meet some more wonderful people:)

How has my life been? Well, I am now settled in and operationalising my action plan. Though it is kinda difficult because I have all these job related tasks and competing priorities! But I know that I will work it out somehow.
I am so used to my Kampala and its dust. Today as I was coming to work and thought whimsically about how Kampala is a true definition of going from dust to dust! Is there a city more dusty than Kampala? Is there a city with more poor roads than Kampala?
Ok, let me not start on Kampala. Let me enjoy the beautiful sunshine.
Kwaheri (swahili for good bye)

Ugandans, where have our manners gone?

As I was in a taxi heading home, I witnessed something that made me question Ugandan’s sense of compassion.

For the foreigners, Ugandan’s concept of a “taxi” is an Omni bus licensed carry 14 people…but the number can go up depending on the location and time of day. For instance, after 7pm, instead of the 3 people per seat, the number can go as high as 5!

Every taxi riding Uganda familiar with the rush hours of 6- 8pm knows the hustle associated with getting a seat!
But on this particular day, the taxi I rode made some miraculous Guinness record breakers!
First of all, it was virtually empty; a rare concurrence at that hour.

It then stopped to pick a man…not just any man but a crippled man. I have witnessed incidents where the driver has left a passenger because they are “crippled, will waste time”. Only for the same driver to stop a meter ahead and wait 5 minutes for a person who is walking lazily up to the road! (SCREAM!!!)

Well, back to the issue at hand. The crippled man with two clutches made of wood struggled to enter the taxi. He first placed the clutches inside and supported himself on one of the torn, dirty brown, cushioned seat as he hosted himself inside.

I was glad that the taxi driver didn’t complain nor did he start the car before the man could sit.

The man was meant occupy the seat behind me. It was located between the window seat and a “movable” one. Now there are two types of seats in these taxis. There are the movable and immovable ones. Immovable seats with the exception of the backseat; are always the first two seats located on the left hand side windows. The “Movable” on the other hand are the seats next to the windows on the right hand side of the taxi. These are the worst because every time someone behind you wants to get out, you are forced to leave this seat so as to pave way for them. It feels like you are sitting in an aisle!

Sorry I got carried away…. Anyway, just as poor “Mr. Clutches” was struggling to enter, a woman let me call her “Brown” who was occupying a movable seat, quickly moved to the immovable seat leaving “Mr. Clutches” man had to occupy “Brown’s” movable seat.

It was not long before someone behind them asked to get out. I watched in dismay as ‘’Mr. Clutches” struggled to get out of his seat and get out and then get in . All this happened in a space of 5 minutes.
And as Mr. Clutches struggled to re-enter the taxi, history repeated itself! A male passenger who was waiting by the road sneaked and quickly occupied the “immovable” seat that the previous passenger who had alighted had been occupying! Once again Mr. Clutches had to occupy the movable seat.

After what seemed like 20meters, another passenger asked to leave. The process repeated itself! I felt so selfish and was just going to ask Mr. Clutches to take my seat when I realised that he was the passenger going out!
This scene really tugged on my heart because it revealed how insensitive and inconsiderate Ugandans including me can mean to be!

I know that disability is not inability but in such a situation, it really does no harm offering the man a seat of convenience so that he is comfortable but can at the same time not be inconvenienced by people moving in and out of the taxi. I hope that when this next happens, I will be prepared to act accordingly.