Boda bodas aren’t just above the law, they’ve become the law on our roads

News of motorbike taxi (boda boda) riders dragging a motorist out of his car and pummelling him to death was shocking, but not surprising. Shocking, because it took place in the middle of the day, on a busy road, and close to police CCTV cameras, the story goes.

Not surprising, because boda boda riders are merely the loudest embodiment of the lawlessness of day-to-day life in Uganda generally, and in the capital, Kampala, in particular. 

This is not an argument against boda bodas per se. In a city as clogged as Kampala, they are a quick way to get from A to B and most people have “a boda guy” who runs all manner of errands, from school runs to groceries shopping. If one has the stomach for it, sturdy legs and an even sturdier helmet, boda bodas are an essential survival kit for life in Uganda, and a major employer.

 But boda bodas have also become a menace, riding roughshod over whatever rules once existed on the road. They have morphed into a dangerous and uncontrolled swarm of bees. As with most things, the decay started slowly, perhaps with a few riders refusing to wear their helmets.

Then they started overloading, with bikes meant for two zipping around with three, four, five, even six occupants. They kept getting away with it, so the impunity continued to grow. Traffic lights became invisible. Road signs became poles to urinate against. Road islands became parking spots. Pedestrian walkways became boda highways. 

Somewhere, somehow, someplace,  the boda riders met and unanimously voted to disregard the traffic rule about driving or riding on the left. They decided that they could ride on the left, on the right, in the middle, across, up, down, inside, outside, and anywhere else in any direction and at whatever speed.

Other road users were either useful fare-paying customers, or mere inconveniences. The only people they appeared to fear were Mr Sino from China, Mr Fuso from Japan, and Herr Actros from Germany. Bwana Tata from India and anyone else was fair game. Emboldened, some boda riders even became daredevil circus artists capable of zooming through a four-way junction without even the cursory look around for on-coming traffic. If they die, they die.

 In the meantime, the body count continued to grow in hospital emergency rooms. Bodas became a quick way to get a job, a quicker way to get into hospital, and the quickest way to heaven.

If you think about it, almost every time you sit on a boda boda you are putting your life into the hands of a chap who is learning on the job, has no training or licence to ride, has very little to live for, but a thousand reasons to get rich or die trying. 

This is not an argument against boda bodas. It is an argument against lawlessness and the manner in which the state has abdicated its responsibility to keep law and order. 

Every effort to rein in boda boda riders runs into the self-interest of the real owners of these flying missiles; well-connected white-collar money-hungry types who will follow the last coin down the city sewers downtown if there is even a remote chance of retrieving it, wiping off the blood and gunk, then pocketing it.

It is easy to control society – put enough guns in the right hands and put them in the right places at the right time aimed in the right direction. But managing society is a different kettle of fish. It requires legitimacy, persuasion and the right mix of incentives; it requires consistency and applying the rule of law across the board. In other words, it requires the kind of discipline that we have failed to nurture within ourselves, or be nudged towards by those with authority. 

A boda rider will not respect the road rules if a High Court judge drives his car on the wrong side of the road and faces no consequences. When he knocks a car, the boda rider discovers he can melt into the crowd and nothing will happen to him. He isn’t just above the law; he is the law on the road. Then, one day, he pulls a motorist out of his car and beats him to death. Because he can get away with murder. 

Mr Kalinaki is a journalist and  poor man’s freedom fighter. 
[email protected]; @Kalinaki