Target...Mzungu Driving A Car

Yesterday was a good day. A very good day.

After searching for a vehicle for six weeks and losing all the deals because Barclay's Bank in Uganda "lost" TWO wires from our U.S.Bank for over THREE weeks with little concern, we finally landed our funds and vehicle.

We've definitely learned a lot as we've had to maneuver around town via boda bodas, feet and overcrowded matatu's.

Last Friday night on our way home via taxi after the Global Leadership Summit, Mike and I were left somewhat dumbstruck as our little driver, Noah, stopped the taxi, put the emergency brake on (thank goodness...we were practically looking straight up at the sky from the backseat) jumped out and hopped on a boda boda and took off. He didn't say anything to us...he didn't even look back. Cars continued to "whiz" past us (that was for affect; there's not really a lot of whizzing going on during rush hour...the traffic is always jammed). Mike and I were just sitting in the backseat wondering "now what?" Mike took it in stride and spent the time thumbing through the days newspaper. I did what any wise person would do...I began text messaging my kids...just in case.

About ten minutes later, the boda boda returned with our driver carrying a water bottle partially full of petrol. He dumped it in, climbed back in and off we continued. Nothing weird about taxis always running out of gas here.

We were feeling pretty good about the Summit. Leadership training is something vastly needed in this country. And there we had been, in a room full of 2000 leaders and pastors from all over Uganda. All wondering what this country needed to do to be the great country it should and could be. There was hope in the conference room. And there were even a couple of local success stories.

There is a long history of ethnic massacres and civil war in Uganda. Strangers have been killing strangers, neighbors have been killing neighbors. And after more than 20 years, there are hundreds of thousands of people dead, more than a million still displaced from their homes and livelihood. Whole families have been destroyed.

Agriculture, electricity, the country's infrastructure-roads, to say nothing of banks and businesses still have not recovered. And even if they had, where are the teachers? Where are the mentors and leaders? The couple of short years that people have tried to return to life outside the IDP Camps and the total support from the UN and benevolent aid are not enough years to adequately train up this next generation who remain to make this country function and great.

So...today was a bad day.

It started out great; a fruitful meeting at the Parliament with the MP from Manafwa, arranged by a Pastor friend. On our way to take the Pastor to catch his bus that would drive him back to Mbale, we were hit with one of the ugly realities of Uganda.

We're a target. We're mzungas after all. That simply spells money. I'm not as ticked about this whole situation as I was a couple of hours ago...the bleeding heart part of me now is saying, "these people have been oppressed for so long, they see a flash of opportunity and they just take it."

So picture this...there's Mike (mzungu)in a suit and tie driving a decent looking vehicle. The opportunity was just too much for this very young, 12 year old looking cop. There are a lot of police here. They remind me a bit of glorified school patrol guards. They're on foot, most don't carry guns (thank God), they don't even have a badge identifying them as police. They "direct" traffic with the use of a whistle, day or night...nothing on them to illuminate them or keep them safe.

We're at a traffic light, the second we've seen in this large city, when this little cop runs up to our car and tells Mike to pull over. "Pull up there and pull over," he says. Mike and Pastor exchange looks. I'm quiet in the backseat hoping that whatever this is, it's quick. I've had to use the restroom for nearly 2 hours now.

Pastor was immediately apologetic for Mike's actions...whatever they were. "He's new. This is his first day to drive here." The cop is not concerned with this. He's smiling; Mike returns the smile, but I can tell from the tenseness of the pastor that this is not going well. "I will have to teach him a lesson. He needs to learn a lesson. You say he is new driving here. Well I will have to teach him. I will have to punish him." What the heck does THAT mean, I'm thinking?

I've heard stories. People have told us that we would be pulled over; for no reason other than we're white. "Don't pay" those same people have told us. "If you do, you will be marked and every cop will pull you over." Oh come on...really? Cops actually want you to buy your way out of going to jail? Which is the only alternative I might add here.

We pull over. Mike and the Pastor hop out. Again, there I am...sitting in the backseat of a car, parked on a hill, quickly surrounded by people staring at me. I whip out my phone thinking, "Surely there must be someone I can call to report this outrage." There's no one. It's only 3:00 am in Florida. I doubt if any of my kids are awake. And what could they do anyway? So I text message my friend in Kitgum and say, "Mike has been pulled over by the police." "Was he using his cell phone?" she asked? "No. They want to 'teach him a lesson' to the tune of 50,000 Shillings." "Politics, huh?" she responded, and continued with, "That's ridiculous. I would have told the cop off and left." It crossed my mind, but he had Mike's drivers license for one thing. Wisely, I was told to stay in the vehicle. If I wasn't so concerned about getting to a bathroom, and soon, I would have gotten out and told him off.

What is amazing (there are so many things)is that the cop so brazenly, with such entitlement and authority told Mike, "this will cost you 50,000 Shillings." Mike responded with, "no" and the cop responded with, "then I will call my supervisor and take you to jail and let the court decide." (like that works here either.) Mike told him to call his authority over...which of course he would not. Something was spoken back and forth in Luganda between the Pastor and the cop...and then he was escorted back to the car. At that point, the pastor handed the cop the money. Mike and I both sat there with our mouths hanging open. We reimbursed the pastor and got him to his bus. We were livid that we were such targets and it was ok with everyone.

In a country where the people have been squeezed and oppressed for, well, as far back as I can find, where 70% are hungry because they can only afford one meal a day (maybe), is it any wonder they learn to survive on corruption?

Many of the working class people here make less than $2 a day. I'm talking about the security people, taxi's, street police. Is it any wonder they try to squeeze the mzungu's?

I'm certainly not condoning "extortion"...but it makes us understand it a bit. When people in authority positions, like police, see corruption commonly occur across the continent, aren't they being raised to believe it's ok? The way to do business? The only way to prosper? WHERE will the leadership come from to EVER pull this country out of the jaws of poverty and corruption?