For Such A Common Occurrence ...
It was a day filled with great expectation. Sunday was the day of a concert featuring the Dove Voice Band that would release their recently produced DVD and CD. It was scheduled for 2 PM in Kampala. Ten of us squeezed into a 7 passenger van and settle in for the two hour drive west from Jinja. Why is it that I always feel like the "big size" when everyone suggest that I ride in the front seat with the driver?
Pushing some unwanted suggestions aside, I assumed my copilot position and suggested to my 21 year old driver from Tanzania that we were not late and we were not in a race. After asking him why some drivers feel compelled to pass any driver in front of them, he replied, "I think I'm one of those." I quickly committed myself to more prayer than observation.
Just moments after leaving our compound, as we were able to finish crossing the bridge, a car passed us on the right. Everyone knows that it is illegal to pass on the bridge that sits atop the Jinja Dam of the River Nile. But, somehow, this reckless driver thought himself above the law and whipped past us ... only to find that a man on a bicycle coming directly toward him. Without slowing down, the vehicle clipped the bicycle, ejecting the rider over the handle bars and onto the pavement. The rider jumped up and looked in the direction of the speeding car as it drove on overtaking more slower vehicles. Nothing new here. I've witnessed too many collisions and near collisions to think it unusual.
That mishap confirmed my need to once again pray for our safety as we made the two hour trip to Kampala. My granddaughter told me that I slept on our way to Kampala, but I was begging heaven for safe passage. About 90 minutes later I opened my eyes as we entered the capital city of Uganda. Soon after, I spotted a motorbike lying down and in the middle of our side of the street, which happened to be about four lanes wide. Lanes, of course, are not something that are recognized or used by most drivers in this country. Open space is what they look for and whoever gets there first owns it. The rider of the bike was still down and as I looked for and at him as we drove by, I saw that he was still woozy, but attempting to stand up and face the traffic coming at him. There was no attempt to slow down or stop to check on him. My youthful driver had his eyes on the drivers in front of him; he must overtake them!
|Investigation officer with Joshua|
|Finger pointing ... yelling|
|Victim on the way to the clinic|
|New friend in Room 36|