Today I will be going to town to run some errands. I will sit in a taxi owned by a traffic officer; the ones of Uganda Police with white uniform. The taxi will stop where ever it chooses; at the roundabout or right in the middle of the road. This taxi will be a fair one, stopping both where it is convenient to load more passengers and to spew out those that have gotten to their destination (which does not have to be a designated taxi stage; middle of a busy street is just fine!)
Its driver and conductor will exude absolute entitlement and the Stage Managers will let them do as they please; loading passengers before other taxis found waiting in queue like school children at a food serving point.
No one picks on Afande’s boys.
The taxi will be run into by the guard of a government car; a metal rod dressed onto the lower front of a car like teeth braces only this guard serves the purpose of horns on a cow (you get too close, you get hit). The taxi got too close. But then, the government car driver had no regard for the piece of scrap before him when he released the brakes slightly, giving his Double Cabin Nissan a jerk that landed a denting punch into the backside of the taxi, right at the left side, a window behind my seat.
The collision in very slow traffic at the roundabout will come as no surprise especially since its victims are the two most entitled road users.
This turns out to be a free ride for me to my next taxi stop. We all exit the taxi because the ensuing negotiations after such carelessness could drag on for hours.