Not Just Another Blog


Posted by yeswedid on October 14, 2010

Tuesday {October 12th 2010} was one of those days! Have you had a day where you made appointments with people and they don’t keep them? You wait for your phone to ring and every time it does, you think it’s that call you are waiting for? The day started like that for me. It gets me boiling {read very angry} when people don’t keep time {considered normal here}, and some times all you are meant to do on such days has every thing to do with the appointment.

Well, eventually I got that call {I’m ashamed to write how long I waited} and I went to meet the person. On my way there, I had to through the taxi park. Using public transport in this country is close to a nightmare. And because there are many of us who do, it helps me not to get into a depression about it. I mean, nothing is the way its supposed to be as far as public transport is concerned; the taxi park is filthy, hawkers, the fares go up depending on the drivers’ moods, small space with lots of people and cars…I could go on and on.

 In all this chaos {for better words}, one has to somehow find a bus to their destination. It’s also normal here for men on the streets but especially in the taxi parks {we have two} to sexually harass women and young girls. They do this by saying things like “you have nice breasts, your size is good in bed, come here you girl {woman}, I can satisfy you sexually…” they don’t just talk, many times they grope you, grab your hand telling you that they want to talk to you. I have experienced this since I was like fourteen. I remember times when me and my father used the taxi park, and men said things like “where are you taking the young girl..give her to us the young ones…” my dad was furious and he always had to stop and assure them that I’m his daughter and I’m too young. it madee angry to see my father fighting {verbally} off these men.

 This still happens to me, to many of {if not all} women who go through the taxi parks. So as I’m heading for my appointment, I’m in the park, with a long face, some man {I wish I didn’t have to call him “man” for the like of him are not man enough} grabs my hand. Ha!! He didn’t know what just hit him! I slapped his hand and told him to never put his dirty hands on me ever again! Of course being the park, there were many people, he walked away from me and I could tell that he was so embarrassed. There were men around who applauded me and I told them and I quote “I can twist his neck and just kill him”. Inside I had a feeling to throw up, I was disgusted!! But I thank God that I could stand up to him, he may not stop doing it but I hope he marked my face. He is just one of many I have to fight often. if the laws here have failed to protect our rights, i’m definately going to fight for myself and my rights!

 I found the taxi and boarded, as we headed out of the park, the driver was asked to pull over. The tires were in bad shape, but honestly the car should not be on the road transporting people. But this is a third world, this is Uganda, where everything goes. There was another taxi pulled over and it was empty. The officer told us {the passengers }to board it, and instructed its driver to take us. I asked its conductor why they had been pulled over, he told me it was something that the vehicle had to have but did not. I asked him if they had got it, he said no but the traffic officer had talked to the driver’s boss on the phone. Yeah right! I’m sure minutes after we had left, the car we were in turned into same story.

It rained heavily that day, and I was in one of the areas with roads that flood from heavy rain. I have always watched the scenes on the news on television. Experiencing it is totally different. I was in the taxi, returning from the appointment that kept me waiting for very long, and here I was trying to get home, with the taxi’s engine off {I guess water affected it}, watching people walking in water {around their waists} and listening to stories of a small child that has been drowned in the water in another area.

 My heart ached, and I was sad as I went home, thinking about all the people out there, that I saw on the roadside, whose homes/shops were flooded with water. Of course this shouldn’t be happening, but here, its normal. That was what I would consider one of my bad days. Did I also say that I survived a boda boda {motorbike}accident?


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