We are approaching Centenary park trotting away from the heavy traffic and the January heat combined with a what’s becoming a “smogsville”-Kampala.
At that junction, the traffic lights change to red, signalling an order so one might think. A swarm of boda-bodas buzzes forward, an unruly tide of motorbikes ignoring the lights with a collective wave, as though the signal were merely a suggestion.
The riders swerve, honk, and manoeuvre with the precision of chaos. They pass through these spaces as if to defy geometry. Amid this symphony of defiance, one boda-boda stands out: it carries a traffic officer, stern-faced and gripping the seat for his dear life, seemingly indifferent to the blatant irony of the moment.
His fellow officer’s whistle dangles uselessly around his neck, a silent witness to the surrender of law to the relentless force of Kampala boda-boda culture. My friend from Nyamiyaga suggests, “he would ban boda-bodas if he became powerfull.” I pause and ask, “but why?”
But why boda-bodas? These two-wheeled marvels can carry everything from sacks of charcoal to furniture—and occasionally entire families, and a security mess. A helmet? Optional. Road safety? Negotiable. The boda-boda rider operates on instinct, squeezing through traffic like water through cracks.
You see in such chaos, there is resilience. Is this the resilience we need? These road warriors embody the ingenuity and adaptability of a nation navigating a maze of economic and social challenges.
There are over 1.5 million boda-bodas in Uganda, with the majority operating in Kampala. The sector employs close to the same number, contributing significantly to people’s livelihoods, mostly the youth. However, boda-bodas account for almost 28% of road traffic accidents, according to the Uganda Police Annual Crime and Traffic Report (2023).
Additionally, the Ministry of Health reports that road traffic injuries cost the Ugandan economy Shs 4.4 trillion annually, a figure largely attributed to motorbike-related incidents. Taxis (commuters), we will talk about you another day; unruly, selfish, corrupt, old-dangerous mechanical conditions, extreme pollutants; you’re only usefull when you’re about to board it; once you’re in, you’re a subject of the conductor’s mercy and driver’s pinion and suppression-no customer care.
These overcrowded vans follow loosely defined routes, and their fares depend on the mood of the conductor or the level of traffic. Negotiating a fare is less about economics and more about theatrics, with passengers and conductors often exchanging like seasoned but uncultured debaters.
Taxi pricing is a masterclass in microeconomics. It fluctuates with the weather, time of day, and the mood of the driver. Isn’t this also a form of public embezzlement, or corruption is only for those in offices? Taxis, much like boda- bodas, are essential to urban transport, moving over 3.5 million people daily in Kampala alone.
Yet, they contribute significantly to congestion and pollution, with emissions from public transport accounting for 59% of Kampala’s air pollution, according to a 2022 study by the National Environment Management Authority (Nema).
Let’s go back to boda-bodas; While they represent the hustle of Uganda’s youth, boda-bodas also mirror the nature of the economy and our society. Ugandans dodge everything skillfully in a similar way they dodge potholes, operating in an economy where regulations are vague and compliance is a distant dream.
But, they provide employment for thousands who might otherwise be jobless-an unemployment rate among the youth estimated to be at 13.3%, making them a cornerstone of urban livelihoods! Is this what we want? Can’t they be a tool for commercial agriculture in the country side?
But that’s where they ran from. What chased them from there? Inside this sector, you’ll find a microcosm of Uganda’s diversity. Limited formal job opportunities push many into these informal sectors.
Again, the evil child of capitalism. Urban planning struggles to keep pace with population growth, leaving cities gridlocked. Despite these challenges, the boda-boda and taxi economy reflects Uganda’s resourcefulness and tenacity. It’s a living, breathing example of how people create opportunities in adversity.
This kind of chaos, however, comes at a cost. Air pollution in Kampala exceeds WHO- recommended levels by over five times, contributing to 13,000 premature deaths annually in Uganda, according to a 2022 World Bank report.
Despite the apparent chaos, there’s a strange rhythm to it all. Pedestrians weave through moving vehicles with a confidence. It’s survival of the boldest, and everyone seems to have a PhD in improvisation. This prevalence underscores deeper issues. Urban planning struggles to keep pace with growth, leaving roads congested and polluted.
The informal sector dominates, making it difficult to integrate these economic activities into formal structures. Perhaps victims of an economic model/ system that offers few alternatives. Uganda’s tax-to-GDP ratio stands at 13.3%, below the Sub-Saharan Africa average of 16%, partly because of challenges in taxing informal sectors like boda-bodas and taxis.
So, the next time you’re gripping the edge of a boda-boda seat or squeezed between passengers in a taxi, or the moment you curse the boda-boda who has scratched your classy car and run away, or a taxi that has blocked you, or been delayed for prayers while in a taxi, or even robbed or the security concerns some pause, remember—you are part
of this Ugandan story.
We need to deal with it. Yes. No. Not to this honking and deviating testament of adapted resilience and ingenuity. Like we have seen, in the chaos there lies a rhythm, and in the madness, a method.
But this is not what we need. Policy makers need to support us to take a moment and appreciate a better Uganda not the unfiltered essence of Uganda: but a nation that moves, not recklessly, but always forward-in harmony, offering opportunities and safe for all.
The author is a concerned citizen.