The king is the man who rules over the rest, with an invincible hand or can I call it un-questionable authority. In simple terms, the king may be termed as someone next to being omnipotent. These kings are neither born nor hereditary but just created by the law. I suppose, by now, most of you are already guessing what I am talking about. Let me not beat about the bush, I will call a spade a spade and not a big spoon. As a villager, I have always been victimised by the “Blue Boys” and sometimes the “Blue Girls”. I will admit without fear or favour that, the BB and the BG when compared, the BG are the best kids in this land. The other day, as I was driving from town (Kigali Ville) towards Kacyiru, I decided to go via Kimicanga. Just above the One Love project; there is this TAXI stop, at the stop, there was a menacingly huge BMW motorcycle belonging to none other than the BB. I was driving in the middle lane because the right lane had a vehicle that entered the main road from Cadillac junction. The BB jumped into action, blowing his whistle as if they had announced that the world was going to run out of air. The guy was almost swallowing the whistle. What really makes me wonder is the fact that, he even decides to stop vehicles in the middle lane even when those in the right hand side lane are fast moving. What really annoyed me was the fact that, hardly had I stopped, the guy was on my window looking at me so menacingly as if I had committed a sacrilege. Those of you that are not Catholics may not understand this term; a sacrilege is a big sin that cannot be forgiven whatever the case may be. I suppose, my only major sin is lacking enough “Mafaranga” to buy a plush car, just like those of the “Bayobozi” (leaders). In brief, the BB was telling me to buy a new car. He looked me over and over, looked my car over and over again; either he was trying to put a price on this “vintage” car, most probably, he would impound it and put it on auction for himself to buy. As if from slumberland, he burst out in a commanding tone, “Zana Perime na Carite Joni” he commanded. I gave him the documents and then he looked at them and back to me and then back to them as if they were from mars. “Witwa Mfasha iki?” (You are called Mfasha what?) He enquired! I don’t know whether he wanted me to help him (ku mfasha) with something, but what happened there after is debatable. He asked me to put on the lights, then the wipers, then the reverse lights, then the “kizimiya moto” and then the “binyoteri”, then the wipers, the water for wipers etc. All was in order, the guy not satisfied decided to charge me for speeding. You know, these guys are really dense (sorry to use the word), as long as a vehicle is moving, it is speeding; doesn’t matter whether it is five kilometres per hour or 100. He went on to lecture me that, I was driving over the recommended 40km/hr and that he was going to “guhana” (punish) me for that. This reminded me of a common English saying that goes as, “Never argue with someone wrong as people may not notice which of you is right”. I decided to get the booking with a hope of going to talk to more sensible guys at the Traffic Head Office. When I got there, they too were as adamant as their roadside brother; arguing that, if the roadside BB deemed it that I was speeding, so it should be and they ended up sending me to cough a cool Frw50,000 at the nearest RRA office. The reason I am bringing this up is that, maybe, some of the more understanding bosses of the BB could come to my aid and refund my cash. Sincerely how can one measure speed of a vehicle with his naked eyes? At least, if he had a speed gun, that would have been convincing enough. But merely by looking ugly to the traffic guy, he can decide to book you so that you loose, that is malice of the highest order. Moreover, they don’t book guys in those big cars. I am warning them, one of these days, I will upgrade to a really big vehicle; I don’t know where they will hide. Contact: Mfashumwana@fastmail.fm
