How long before the man with the key returns?

Author, Benjamin Rukwengye. PHOTO/FILE. 

What you need to know:

  • So, I imagined it would take no more than 24 hours, 48 tops. It took all of three weeks of bring this, sign that like this, take that – for us to finally get the account activated. The handler didn’t quite have a proper explanation, apart from, “I am sorry sir, but it must happen like that.”

Towards the end of 2020, I walked to a bank where I already operated a business account, and tried to open a second one. They already had every necessary documentation, since I had been operating the previous account for close to four years.

So, I imagined it would take no more than 24 hours, 48 tops. It took all of three weeks of bring this, sign that like this, take that – for us to finally get the account activated. The handler didn’t quite have a proper explanation, apart from, “I am sorry sir, but it must happen like that.”

It was a frustrating experience and a complete waste of time and money because on occasion, I actually needed to physically head to the bank. In week three, I lost it and rapped the official, threatening that if I didn’t have the account by end of week he shouldn’t bother, and that I would in fact close the first account as well, and move the funds to a more agile and responsive bank.

I remember thinking at the time, that the bank official would have been a lot more amenable if he had had previous experience operating a business. Then, he probably would have had better appreciation of the value of time and loss that is occasioned by delays. Without that experience and exposure, it is nearly impossible to build context that leads to understanding and empathy.

It is something you often experience when dealing with public officials for whom loss or the closure of or inconvenience to a small business means so little. You might also notice it in how regulators are so quick to follow through and enforce compliance without necessarily understanding why businesses defaulted. Without ever having run a business, it is nearly impossible to understand how things work.

You also hear it with larger corporations which contract smaller entities and freelancers to get work done and then lose them in paperwork, bureaucracy, signatures and postponements when it comes to coming good on payments. Suddenly, the CFO is abroad on a work trip and the other signatory loses a grandfather, goes on maternity leave immediately after.

As you read this, Uganda’s Ministry of Health is in a bind with medical interns, who are demanding a pay rise. It’s so bad that the interns have basically been told to show up or ship out.

The thing about medical internship is that it is not as near-useless as how almost every other internship experience is curated. While most other university students can be dismissed as lacking in skill and job preparedness, get exploited because of a massive lack of opportunities, and generally told to tough it out, you can’t do this with medical interns.

They hold two degrees, carry the weight of an overstretched health sector and probably put in a lot more thankless work than your average doctor. Also, they have immense opportunities and demand, should they opt to leave the country in search for greener pastures – and they know all this. Yet, you don’t get the impression that those in charge of moving the envelope recognise this or even care.

Like the bank official who couldn’t be bothered by how much business is lost with every day that passes, and explains his torpor with “…it must happen like that”, ministry officials believe that to simply refrain, “There is no money”, will make the problem go away.

Which brings us to the role – I’d wanted to use ‘purpose’ but there’s little – of Uganda’s Parliament. This week, more than 500 of them got sworn-in, to serve or masquerade as legislators for the next five years.

It has taken four days to get through the swearing-in process and blockades erected on roads around Parliament. The lack of care for time and loss to businesses that need to transact in the area is grating. Yet it also tells you about the crisis of our times, if nobody mooted any other ideas on how to save time and money during this process.

It’s not the first or last time that interns are striking over pay, and there are no prizes for guessing whether teachers are waiting around the corner, to join the fray – and listen to the “no money” riddim.

The previous parliaments never dealt with these sorts of problems – making it easy for Ugandans to do business and persistent strikes; it’s hard to see this one being any different.

Mr Rukwengye is the founder, Boundless Minds.