LIRA, HERE I COME
Chris revs this 1.8cc engine and she rolls, the throttle envigorates her, she lurches forward; gaining pace by the second. He keeps his right leg firmly on the gas and she obliges, thrusting through the air and leaving dust ahind. In a jiffy, we approach Bwaise.
The mornings in here is misleading. Boda boda cycles apace and omnipotent; carrying large women who cut rather a grotesque pose, others with people obviously somnambulent. The signature of the Kampala traffic jam (meshy; if noisy and irritating) is forming and Chris better get us out here fast. He does exactly as if reading my thoughts.
Vroom, hoot, vroom, hoot. Phew, we espy Kawempe and with it some peace of space. She vrooms on and Chris is adept at tasting her resolve. But, she slows down to evade another hole. Why this? Is this not a route to half of Uganda?
Now this routine is exciting. Vroom, screech and swerve. Through Kawanda, Matugga, Bombo, Wobulenzi and Luwero, a driver has now honed the skill of crisiscrossing the road. Some baffled mzungu once observed that in Uganda, drunk people drive straight, right through the potholes.
Chris in now distraught. For good reasons too, a distance a driver will surely wear out on this journey especially if this the first attempt.
Through Katuggo, … and Kakooge, chris does his thing. One second of zooming and five minutes of zigzagging ( If I may say so). Time check, 10.00 am. Ordinarily we should be the other side of river nile; in Northern Uganda, perhaps corner Kamudini.
But this is Migyera and the enzymes demand some action. Chris slows her down off the tarmac, onto the front of an eatery. We order for katogo. Well, katogo appears to be a national food of sorts these days, and this eatery does not disappoint. In fact they serve more meat, you could as well have eaten a full kiganda dinner. This generosity mean the refreshment is far from light and that we need to engage Chris in conversation as he thrusts her through the undulating hills that finally drop us at R. Kafu.
Stop. A police sign warns us and she screeches to a halt. A wave from the officer and we understand that we should carry on. And to a sensible road. Can you imagine? Having to travel over 200km from Kampala to find a road worth its name? “You did not vote wisely”, PK retorts. Vote wisely? Ahmed muses.
This is Luweero Triangle. The angle used by NRM to ascend power. To usher in a fundamental change, not a mere change of guard, remember? That be Greens, relieving that swear word echoed on the steps of parliament one mid-morning in January 26th, 1986.
We are now zooming past Jjeja soon Kigumba. Aahh phew!!! Chris slows her down as we inhale the moist air at the junction to Masindi. Locals rush to us with all sorts roasted fresh foods. Cassava, chicken, maize, beef, gonja (plantain).
It is like every food is roasted. You have to question the hygienic condition of these foods especially as the vendors are wanting on cleaniliness. But the people buy them. The bus drivers on the keep revving the engines and the people rush. Total chaos. That is the cue to deal.
As he revs, the vendors make more money on account of the adrenaline surge. Dash here. Give me the money ( familiar? Gerry Maguire…. show we the money). Quite a universal language. Give me the maoney, as they surge up on the bus; the passenger rather casually glancing downwards and giving the money.
Chris wakes her up with twitch on the switch and she’s alive again. Racing to Kiryadongo, over monumental speed humps, to Katurukile then Bweyale, Dima and finally KARUMA. She does not complain all this time. Picking pace upon pace. The vegetation zooming the opposite direction faster than she tears through the tarmac like a bullet. The road a joy for her, no swerves and turns. No screeching tyres. Just her and the tarmac.
Speed limit 5Km/h. A sign warns us as we slope down to Karuma bridge. All conversation is nill as all bewilders the force that is river Nile. Here at the bridge, she rushes over rocks and rocks. Birds fishing and the rumble all exciting to watch. Now Chris guides her out of the bridge to corner Kamdini.
The road has deteriorated but passable. No strain on her. She manages quite well and no one is complaining. Chris turns right and she follows. Now the condition of this road is taking its toll on her. She surges and slows down and picks up again.
Chris factors the problem and removes the overdrive knob. Where is the next petrol station? Chris asks in exaspiration. Well, this looks like nowhere. No sight of a petrol station. You can see occasional townships and scattered grass thatched house in the distance. No fuel. We are in danger of getting stuck in the nowhere.
It occurs to me that the actual distance from Kampala to Lira is not 337Km, but an adiitional 100km. All the fuel is lost in Luweero. The zigzagging simply put adds more mileage for which an additional 20litres is a must have.
But she understands our predicament and labours on as we say silent prayers for a pump station. Soon we see a large MTN Billboard and it tell us we are in Loro. Some school in Loro is sponsored by MTN and the bright colours of the brand catches our attention and loooooooo.
We have a pump station. Chris guides her to the right, she trudges on and we fill her up. The fuel comes at premium. At UGX2300 a litre, this fuel is amazingly expensive. Surely how the locals here manage? When Chris requires of her to make the 50Km to Lira, the Kibina obliges, she makes an easy meal of that distance.
