Curfew and the flying boda boda

One day, at the eleventh hour, just before curfew O’clock struck, we were all on the road trying to get home before we were in default. 

The lights had turned red at the Kira Road junction and we were all waiting. Since boda bodas always speed through the lights anyway, they were not waiting with the motorists. 

Even then, it was already time up for the bikes so the riders were trying to get away before they could be arrested for being in breach of the Covid-19 curfew rules.

On this day, as on others before, the routine was the same. At a certain time after 6pm, the police in their traffic khakis, ordinary khaki and blue camouflage appeared on the street in large numbers. 

Suddenly, the speeding bodas were cornered as they tried to wiggle their way out of the jam. Some were arrested there and then, and their bikes confiscated. But not this guy who was carrying two passengers and was trying to get away just in front of our car. 

Determined not to be netted by the “afandes”, he flew off the road and onto the pavement just outside Bukoto flats. In the process of the flying escape, one of his passengers, a woman in a red knee-length dress slid off. 
But the boda boda cyclist did not stop. He continued his escape in earnest. However, when the woman slid off, she did not let go. 

For some reason, she continued holding onto the fleeing motorcycle in a sort of death grip. Apparently the other passenger who had remained on the bike was a child. 

The whole thing had been too quick for me to take a good look at the second passenger. The natural instinct for most of us would have been to let go of the speeding bike after being thrown off, but the woman in red had other ideas. 
There, in the traffic jam, as if caught up in a slow motion movie, we watched the stubborn woman being dragged by the runaway motorcycle. 

Some people shouted for her to let go but she didn’t, or maybe she could not. Some said the child on the bike was probably hers and maybe that is why she could not let go when common sense dictated that she do that. 
Continuing to flee, the boda dragged the persistent woman on the ground in what must have been a knee-destroying manoeuvre. 

The flying boda boda is now a common sight on our roads at the end of each day. The people who dare to ride those machines after hours are well aware of the fact that the police is always waiting to lay ambush. 

And so they fly and flee if they must. To hell with their passengers. In the moment when the cyclist is faced with losing his bike or going to jail, the passenger becomes expendable. 
This phenomenon is now a road safety issue. Fleeing boda bodas are going to land themselves and their passengers on the hospital ward with broken bones and grazed knees or worse still, on the fast track to the mortuary. 

Unsafe, curfew-defying boda bodas is the new epidemic in town. The machines are many and so are their riders. For many, this is the most convenient transport to hard-to-reach areas around the city. The bikes are also an economic lifeline for many youth in the city. And the government position is that we still need to curfew. 
For these reasons, the cat and mouse games between the riders and police go on. The rest of us watch from the sidelines. Horrified.

Ms Nampewo is a writer, editor and communications consultant     
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