The keen bus pharmacists

Everyone at the bus park seems to know them. If you are looking for them, you will find them. “You mean the doctors?” one man asked when I inquired. Yes, that is one name they have taken on – doctors. Others call them teachers.

They are not the men in hospital corridors wearing white gowns with stethoscopes or chalk-wielding guys in front of classrooms. No. Not any of these. These are men who have made selling drugs their business; not in the stationed premises as would normally be the case but in the buses.

They board buses plying major highways like Kampala – Masaka, Kampala – Mubende, Kampala – Jinja and Kampala – Masindi highways among others. Once aboard, they describe various disease symptoms and then the ‘prescription’.

Doses
They will explain the doses and the frequency of taking the drugs; for children or adults. Maybe “doctor” or “teacher” is not the right description for what they do. ‘Pharmacists’ you would say, and ‘bus pharmacists’ for that matter!
They will be on the bus for about 10km. On Kampala – Masaka highway, for example, they board off at Nsangi traffic police check point. They normally stop at Seeta on Kampala – Jinja and Kawanda on Kampala – Bombo highways.
There, they will wait for the return bus. Once back in the city, he will jump on to another bus. It might be another route this time. The circle continues throughout the day.

The ‘bus pharmacists’ carry their drug in their briefcases. They travel for free. Owners of the buses know them. “First of all, they are on the bus for a short time. They do their sales and board off. We have no problem with them,” says Haji Ahmed, the ticketing officer for Bismarkan Bus Services.

“If they request, we temporarily switch off the TV inside the bus so they talk to the passengers uninterrupted,” adds Albert Kabazzi, Bismarkan buses supervisor.

I board a bus plying the Kampala – Masaka highway, choosing to take the back seat. The last passenger occupies the remaining seat and we are set to leave. A man jumps on board.

Donning a white shirt with red stripes and black pair of trousers, he is tucked in, hair well-trimmed, he looks smart. He is slender, about 6ft tall. He is carrying a black briefcase. I am face to face with this bus pharmacist. After greeting the passengers, he goes straight to his business. “I am here to save the scores of people tormented by illness,” he states, attracting everyone’s attention.

He describes the ailments seemingly suggesting that everyone on the bus is sick. The ailments are asthma, ulcers, cough, flue, toothache, tooth decay and strained muscles. The list is long. Persuasive and comical he is. “It’s your time to fight for meat like everyone else,” comically he implores the passengers to buy an ointment he claims heals toothache.

“Some of you sit in these buses and by the time you reach home, your muscles are paining but clap for yourselves today, you chose the right bus, I’m here. Use this balm. It’s tested and proved. Simply smear where the muscles are paining. If you have lived long – I mean you are an old man or woman; this is good news for you. You need no Vaseline. This is just enough for you,” he adds, sending the passengers aboard in laughter.
He is that persuasive that the passenger seated next to me, who earlier said he cannot buy such drugs for he does not trust “those people” asked for the balm! It is Mentho Plus balm.

The others in his hands are Lavatex tablets for stomach worms, Clenom antifungal cream, Clotrimazole cream USP and Wild Tinger balm. The latter he says heals flue, headache, backache, and bruises among other hoist of ailments. He also has syrup and bottled herbal liquid for flu and coughs.

His drugs cost between Shs2, 000 and Shs10, 000. From his claims, a single ointment, balm or syrup can treat several ailments. Nevertheless, he makes several sales as one passenger after another, picks what they need.
“When you see very many people buy, it means they approve of the drugs,” one passenger, a man, tells me. “How is that possible,” I ask, “Given the fact that such persons have not used the drugs before?”
“Well,” he replies, “The people who buy and use these drugs tell others about it. So when this man comes in and mentions the drug someone heard about, that person buys. Besides, some of these passengers are frequent travellers who have heard about and probably used the drugs.”

A discussion around where I am seated gains momentum. “Some drugs will work for you, some won’t. You can’t rule out chance,” one woman says. “The problem is that if the drugs you bought didn’t cure the ailment for which you bought it, there is nowhere to report,” another adds.

She is not the only one concerned. “Look at that herbal liquid in the bottle,” pointing to a 1-litre bottle jerry can the bus pharmacist holds in his hands, another passenger says.
“You can’t be sure he boiled the water he used. In the process of seeking cure, you might end up contracting worst diseases.”

“That might be,” another passenger chips in, “But the fact that these men travel in these buses year after year, it means there are people who buy these drugs and have been healed.”
Mohamed Katende claims he is one of them. “I am a taxi driver and as you know, the nature of our job makes us sit for a long time. So I developed a backache but I bought some drug from a man on a bus plying Kampala-Mbale route and I was healed.”

Taste
Katende claims that some of the drugs sold by the men on the buses heal. One may need to take safety precautions if they so wish, he says. “If he is selling liquid drugs, you may need to first ask him to taste it before you buy and use it just to ensure it’s not poisonous or harmful in anyway,” he says.

Katende further says people buy drugs from the bus pharmacists because their drugs are relatively cheaper. “Why would you go to those pharmacies in town that sell very expensive drugs yet you can buy similar or even better drugs from these people cheaply?” he asks.

Probably they are able to sell similar drugs at lower costs because the bus companies have allowed their business to thrive with no rent and other operational costs.

The bus companies do not charge these men but benefit is some other way. “A person will tell his friend that a man who travels in such and such a bus sold to me drugs that cured me. The next time his friend travels, he will use that bus,” says Bismarkan’s Kabazzi.

Inside the bus pharmacists’ business

I board off at Nsangi traffic police check point where the bus pharmacist boards off too. Four of his colleagues await return buses to Kampala. I board with one of them on a Global Couches bus. Once aboard, he does his business just like the one I travelled with from Kampala. On arrival at Horizon Bus Terminal in Kampala, I seek to talk to him.

Perhaps my inquisitive approach alerts him that I am no ordinary customer. He is hesitant to divulge details despite persistent urging. Not even showing him my ID convinces him. “Those cards can be printed anywhere in town,” he tells me.

Luckily, I had carried a recent copy of the Daily Monitor with a feature story on how the taxi park turns into a market at some point in the evening. With it, I explain that the newspaper examines these scenarios for the readers to understand what goes on in society. Suspicion settled, he will talk, not telling me his name though, not yet.

A couple of them are involved in this business. It is a network. They know each other and consult one another. When one runs out of drugs, he can pick from a colleague. They sell mainly Indian and Chinese-manufactured drugs, food supplements and herbal medicines.

For herbal drugs, they liaise with colleagues upcountry who supply them. “That’s where there are bushes, you can’t find trees in Kampala,” he says. Some though are sourced as far as Tanzania and the DR Congo.

Gradually, the man realises that our conversation has nothing to do with legal issues concerning their operations. He can trust me with his personal details. His name is Arnold Ndawula. Ndawula explains that they buy their drugs from wholesale town pharmacies or what he calls the “stockists”.

While some are fulltime employees of those pharmacies, others are simply agents who earn a commission on the drugs sold.

“We sell and advertise these drugs. So the pharmacies trust us with their drugs other than letting them expire in their shops,” he says. Their clientele is not limited to people who use buses. “As you speak in the bus, someone is listening. He may not buy but will tell his uncle or aunt who drives a Pajero. That’s still business,” he asserts.

As to why they claim that a single drug can cure a host of diseases, Ndawula says most of the drugs they sell are herbal which are mixed with several ingredients that cure various ailments. “Take, for instance, garlic,” he says. “It boosts energy, improves eye sight and blood flow.”

Ndawula claims that sometimes experience works better than formal education. This is to answer the question why despite not being professional health workers, they sell the drugs. “How come one can drive without having gone through a driving school?” is his defence. Pressed further on the fact that medicine requires specialised knowledge and skills, Ndawula says if they meet a complicated case, they refer it to the persons at the pharmacy where they buy the drugs from.

He admits that the selling of drugs in briefcases might be illegal and contravenes the medical profession guidelines, but he is quick to argue that if patients cannot find drugs in hospitals, why should they die when there is a way they can access drugs.

“Besides,” he reasons, “We take these drugs to where it’s most convenient to them; in the buses when they are travelling. They don’t have to run around looking for drugs.”
Their challenge is being on the buses all day, sunny or rainy, and encountering rude persons who shut them down.

What the experts say
Mr Joseph Mukisa, the proprietor of Mukasa Pharmacy at Mukwano Arcade in Kampala, says the business of ‘bus pharmacists’ poses health risks to the public. “Drugs must be stored under certain temperatures. But how do those people who sell drugs on the buses regulate temperatures in their briefcases?” he wonders.

Mukisa adds that with the selling of drugs on the bus by none health workers but mere businessmen or salesmen to uninformed persons with no known regulator, there are no precautions taken to avoid selling expired or below standard drugs.

What the drugs regulators say
The executive secretary National Drug Authority (NDA), Mr Gordon Katende Sematiko, acknowledges the existence of people who sell drugs in the buses and says the practice is illegal. “It contravenes the rules governing the sale of drugs,” he says.

“Drugs must be sold in a prescribed place under certain temperatures. But what those people are doing is illegal. The temperatures they work in is not controlled neither is the environment. You realise most of our environment is dirty, how do you sell drugs in such an environment?”

Sematiko adds that the people who vend drugs do not have the qualifications for selling drugs which makes the practice illegal.

He notes that NDA has in the past worked with stakeholders to control the practice but they have encountered several challenges. For instance, he says, NDA signed a Memorandum of Understanding with Uganda Taxi Owners and Drivers Association (Utoda), the then Kampala City Council (KCC) and the bus owners to put an end to the practice but the departure of Utoda in taxi management hindered the progress of the efforts.
“The biggest challenge is that these drug vendors are not stationed in one place, but mobile, so controlling them without stakeholders is difficult,” he says.

Sematiko also notes that there is a challenge of law enforcement. “Our inspectors arrest them but they immediately get released,” he says.

“We are now sensitising the Judiciary. We have held meetings with the Director of Public Prosecutions and held workshops for stakeholders in Kampala, Mbarara, Iganga and Soroti.”

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