Moroto Tales: Of taxis in which Educated Ugandans are packed like they never went to school

On Sunday evening while travelling from Soroti to Moroto crammed into a forbearing Toyota Noah­—13 of us fully grown human beings 10 men with beards and 3 ladies—the driver decided to move us at a uselessly slow speed. So slow that at some point a certain tipsy Ugandan riding a bicycle from a drinking joint, on his way home, overtook us without breaking a sweat. And even had the audacity to engage one of us in a conversation while at it. Now, I don’t understand Ateso but I want to assume that the kaabozi should have been along the following lines.

Colleague in Noah: Hey you. Who rides a bicycle on a highway while drunk at night. Bogus fellow.

Tipsy Bicycle Guy: Wait. You and I, who of us is Bogus Fellow. You are packed in that Toyota Noah like you never went to school while I be here enjoying my ride back home. And you have paid a whole currency point to be subjected to that kind of suffering. I sincerely pity you. Bogus Fellow.

Colleague in Noah: Hahaha. That is a good one. I give up. But we had no option my brother.

Tipsy Bicycle Guy: That is not true. You could have chosen to ride your way back to Moroto but because you young people want to take short cuts, you decided to board that miserable thing. Now see yourself.

Colleague in Noah: But you man.

Tipsy Bicycle Guy: By the way, before I forget who told you this is a Highway, how can a bicycle run faster than a car on a highway? It is not.

Colleague in Noah: Then what is it?

Tipsy Bicycle Guy: Since I am not your primary school teacher, I wont tell you what it is. Go back to school and study a little more about highways

Anyway while the Noah Crawled through the potholes, the guy took advantage, cruised past us and somehow we never managed to catch up.


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