What’s the hurry? Slow down
I make it a point to commend Rwanda and its beautiful road network as often as I can. Every time I’m in Uganda, I brag and tell my friends that the roads here know no potholes. They are so smooth; it feels as though they have been buttered.
I presume that is why people here sometimes drive like they are being chased. Every time I’m on a moto, the cars behind me hoot in a disorderly way and overtake in a manner that leaves me very disturbed. Now I know having a car is a great deal and therefore everyone should know that you have one but please, try not to traumatise us in the process.
On Wednesday, around that KBC road (don’t know what it’s called) just after the traffic lights of Kimihurura, heading to the roundabout where bridal entourages pose for pictures, some idiot kept hooting behind the moto I was on. I looked back in annoyance wondering why he didn’t pass and leave us in peace. Seeing no sign of civilisation, we literally stopped and gave him way.
You’d think his car was too big and therefore couldn’t just overtake us normally but no. It was one of those Corona things yet the chap kept on hooting. More annoying was the fact that he grinned while he passed us. If I had a rock it would have gone through the back window and straight to his idiotic head.
Other cars kept flying past us and I wondered why everyone was in such a hurry. So maybe you are late for work, but there is no point in trying to get there fast only to be scrapped off the road and wrapped in a sheet moments later. Get up early enough and you won’t have to speed off like a lunatic putting other people in harms way too.
About three weeks ago, there was an accident around the traffic lights near the Rama building. A moto guy carrying a woman heading to the upper side of Kiyovu collided with a coaster coming from town. This moto guy tried to cross before the lights could go red forgetting that the coaster’s lights were on green.
The coaster hit them hard and the woman lay there motionless in a posture that suggested she had broken a few body parts. It was bad. The last I saw she was being put in a car and taken to hospital. I sincerely hope it wasn’t as bad as it looked.
After that incident, I decided my pathetic Kinyarwanda needed pimping up so I asked someone how to say ‘go slow’ in Kinyarwanda. Every time I’m getting onto a moto, I tap his shoulder and tell him Chef, gyenda buhoro! He agrees but after sometime he assumes you forgot and starts speeding again, forcing me to shout, umva, gyenda buhoro!!!
People, these are real roads - not a race car track. You want to practice your Formula One skills feel free to do it when the streets have no people.
Contact email: rachelgaruka[at]yahoo.co.uk