Riding Bodas in 'outside countries'
Riding Bodas in ‘outside
countries’
Recently
when a friend of mine learnt that I was spending a night in Juba waiting for my
connecting flight, he said we cannot fail to meet, for it is unforgivable to
not meet fellow Ugandans when one is in ‘outside countries’. I laughed so hard
but somehow I actually knew exactly what he meant. There is something so
special about meeting a human piece of home when one is away, even if it is as
close by as south Sudan. This reminded me of a boy I met on that fateful
journey.
Angel
and I had decided to just sit and watch people as we waited for the police to
check our bus and it was taking longer than we had anticipated. Then we met
him, and he told us his name was Robert Ndahura. He looked reserved, but when he
greeted me and stood next to me, I thought he was rather interesting. Angel and
I later sat next to him when we moved closer to the bus, hoping they would
notice how impatient we had grown and finish whatever was delaying the set off
from Nimule.
Robert
is one of the many Ugandan youths that leave for Juba, in search of is it also
called greener pastures? He dropped out of school in S.3 and rushed to Juba to
look for money because his friends apparently told him there was more money in
Juba than he would get in Uganda even if he finished school. I wonder what that
says about our education system or our people’s hopes in the system, but I’m
not really writing about systems, so I will leave it at that. Except of course
that I have to mention that my belief in education is not limited to the capability
to find jobs, but to make oneself a better person. Still, there are many
factors influencing people’s choices about education, and sometimes in the
struggle to make a living, the urge to be better can seem to be rather trivial,
and no one can blame them. Perhaps survival is more important. Everybody
chooses, and sometimes, there are not enough choices available.
He
looked rather young. But as he told us tales of how he got to Juba and how he
managed to survive and hustle through it all till he bought himself a motor
bike, which he turned into a boda (taxi), I could only marvel. The one thing
that Robert does not forget though is the first night he came to Juba. He could
not find his friends. And he had no mobile phone. He was stuck. Just when he thought he had run
out of ideas, he met a kind Ugandan woman who gave him food, a place to sleep
and some warm blankets.
“You
see us fight in Uganda”, he said “but when you reach here, any Ugandan you meet
treats you with utmost kindness. That woman kept me at her home for so many
nights until I found my friends.”
However,
even after such kindness Robert found it hard to settle in Juba. When he got on
his own, he had no place to stay. He and his friends worked during day and
slept on the streets at night. They could not afford an apartment on the
expensive streets of the city.
“Even
some Sudanese friends slept out with us” he recalled.
But
as they say, nothing lasts forever, and especially not for a determined young
man who works hard day in day out.
From
fetching water for Juba residents, Robert started out doing all sorts of odd
jobs, but he never lost sight of his dreams, he worked very hard. At the time
we met, he owned a motorbike which he operated as a Bodaboda and earned about
ugx1.5 million per month.
He
said he did not regret leaving school.
“After
all,” he said, “even graduates in Uganda end up riding bodas because of
unemployment”. He looked away, somewhere towards the horizon, and I kept whatever
comments I could have made, for I admired his brave, hardworking spirit. He later
mentioned that he sometimes misses his family very much, so he travels back to Uganda
to see them and as such he was from one of those visits. Soon after that the
bus driver finally climbed on to his seat, and we all rushed to enter the bus,
ready to go face our own assignments, in all their different kinds.
We
arrived in juba later that evening, and got off the bus soon after crossing the
Nile, as we entered the city. He waved to us as we waited for our ride to the
guest house where we were going to spend the night while he continued with the
bus. We were very tired, and our feet had swollen due to sitting in one place
for two days, on that unforgettable bus. We could not wait to walk around and
hit the showers. Part of me thought that the worst part was over. How wrong I was!
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