The boda boda I rode recently in Kampala was brand new, but the side mirrors were missing. Asking the boda boy why, he explained that he had removed and kept them plus a few other “unnecessary accessories” and intends to sell the bike as soon as he finishes paying the loan he got for buying it.
So the items, which can get damaged in the daily chaos of his work, would be safe and during resale after a year, he would get a price that is as almost as good as a first-hand bike. He would buy a plot of land in cash and get another bike loan and start building his house as he repaid the loan as well.
If you aren’t a boda rider, it sounds crazy for someone to compromise rear view in a chaotic motoring situation just to keep the resale value of his bike as high as possible. But in cold business terms, the boy seemed to make sense.
Hopefully he grows mature after selling the bike and keep the mirrors on the next bike. And my cowardly side hopes that after building his dream house in one year, he will employ another risk-taking young man to ride the bike and bring him daily collections, so he reduces the chances of getting his own brains scattered on the tarmac as he rides and makes sudden turns while half blind minus side mirrors.
That would at least be in the interest of some lady and kids since no man around these parts gets to build a home without “putting in somebody” to give fun and offspring.
But will the young man do such a thing as to retire a mere two years since he took the boda boda loan just because he has built a house for owner occupancy? Who am I to suggest a growth trajectory for him, anyway?
While a year’s collection as a boda rider can easily afford him a full acre of land in the countryside in a 100 kilometres radius of Kampala capital city, constructing a decent house on it will certainly take more than 12 months’ earnings.
It might even take him five years because after acquiring his titled land, he will most likely celebrate a bit, and may not know how to stop the party.
And God forbid if his minimally insured bike gets stolen (a common occurrence), or if he gets knocked –chances are higher when you whizz around without mirrors and he certainly has no medical insurance — he will run out of spending money, out of debt financing money, out of plot development money, out of family support money.
He will put the plot up for sale and may even sell at a loss due to desperation. Land always sells for less if the seller is looking for a buyer than the other way round.
The young man will still need to be a boda rider. Maybe that is why we sometimes flag these bikes and as it stops, you notice the rider is your agemate. Stuff happens to people, you know!
The long and short of it is that these boda boda are likely to be around until recolonisation occurs and the new masters impose a transport system that makes sense to them.
Since recolonisation will most likely be indirect, they might even choose to keep the boda boda industry for us to keep our illusion of independence.
It is, therefore, important that African countries that are adopting this crazy “mass transport” by boda boda do all they can to make the industry safe for riders, passengers, the public and the environment.
African hospitals are being strained by patients with broken limbs who occupy ward beds for long, often for months! And Ugandan boda riders take even longer to recover as they run away from hospital due to silly rumours like health workers deliberately amputating them as punishment for their recklessness.
Besides the injured passengers and riders who are lucky not to be among the thousands who die at crash scenes every year, bystanders and others in town pick respiratory diseases from boda fumes which also contain unburnt petrol.
And finally, the nasty little two-wheelers multiply the pollution rate that causes global warming alarmingly fast. So it is a matter of mankind’s self-interest to electrify boda bodas to check their pollution and to assign them lanes to reduce the carnage on African roads.
