Renewing my Ugandan license is driving me crazy
My driving license expires in a week. No better time like the present to have it renewed right?
I drove to Uganda Revenue Authority office in Nakawa and begun the hustle. I’d have been happy to have someone else run this errand but there is no one else, so the “ponky” landed on me.
The chaos in that place is hard to describe; - 8 o’clock on Monday morning looked like 12pm, Thursday afternoon - lots of people standing around, gazing at cars, and conversing. I walked passed a man squatting by the wall, trying to catch some sleep. I don’t know if he was succeeding but his eyes were shut and he was rocking slightly, with the wall as a support.
The office/warehouse, which is excellent for cargo and animals but nothing else, was stuffy and crammed. I had to guess my way around, figure out which forms to fill, where to take them and whom to talk to. Meanwhile men were staring, taking long glances at my paper to see what I had written. I occasionally heard, “Njagala okukyusa numba puleetti” and “kati kampune yange”, kampune became kampune. A hundred and one transactions taking place - company registration, number plate acquisitions, license renewals... I wish there was a simpler way - like getting a drivers license for life. Okay, maybe the country revenues would take a dip, but can we make it 10 years instead of 3? That way we won’t have to squash up in an old unventilated warehouse, among other things.
I stood in 4 different lines in the space 4 hours. Twice I was lucky to stand in the right line from the start, the other times I had to begin at the back of yet another line. Twice, while in the right lane 2 men elbowed their way in front of me.
Hello! In case you didn’t notice, this is a line, if you want to join, kindly start at the back, just like I did.
So I asked the man why he was “fixing himself”.
“But I was somewhere here”
“I have been standing here and I don’t recall you in front of me”
“Yes, but I was somewhere here”
“Where?”
“Ok I don’t remember well. But let us leave that”
“Would you be happy if someone did this to you?”
“In fact, no!”
I was in a good mood, figured there was no reason to continue the exchange. I got my name printed and was off guessing what the next move was.
I queued up at the bank, paid the fee and after 30 minutes was instructed to go back to the warehouse. By this time the lines were so thick it was hard to figure out which counter I would end up at and if it was the right one. Again I stood in what I suspected to be the right line and again a man popped in front of me, just like the weasel.
“Can you please join the line (at the back)?”
“Ah ah! Me I just want a stamp”
“What about the rest of us?”
“I don’t know”
His raw nature made me chuckle but honestly I wished I could yank him by the back of his shirt collar and settle him outside the entrance.
I drove to Uganda Revenue Authority office in Nakawa and begun the hustle. I’d have been happy to have someone else run this errand but there is no one else, so the “ponky” landed on me.
The chaos in that place is hard to describe; - 8 o’clock on Monday morning looked like 12pm, Thursday afternoon - lots of people standing around, gazing at cars, and conversing. I walked passed a man squatting by the wall, trying to catch some sleep. I don’t know if he was succeeding but his eyes were shut and he was rocking slightly, with the wall as a support.
The office/warehouse, which is excellent for cargo and animals but nothing else, was stuffy and crammed. I had to guess my way around, figure out which forms to fill, where to take them and whom to talk to. Meanwhile men were staring, taking long glances at my paper to see what I had written. I occasionally heard, “Njagala okukyusa numba puleetti” and “kati kampune yange”, kampune became kampune. A hundred and one transactions taking place - company registration, number plate acquisitions, license renewals... I wish there was a simpler way - like getting a drivers license for life. Okay, maybe the country revenues would take a dip, but can we make it 10 years instead of 3? That way we won’t have to squash up in an old unventilated warehouse, among other things.
I stood in 4 different lines in the space 4 hours. Twice I was lucky to stand in the right line from the start, the other times I had to begin at the back of yet another line. Twice, while in the right lane 2 men elbowed their way in front of me.
Hello! In case you didn’t notice, this is a line, if you want to join, kindly start at the back, just like I did.
So I asked the man why he was “fixing himself”.
“But I was somewhere here”
“I have been standing here and I don’t recall you in front of me”
“Yes, but I was somewhere here”
“Where?”
“Ok I don’t remember well. But let us leave that”
“Would you be happy if someone did this to you?”
“In fact, no!”
I was in a good mood, figured there was no reason to continue the exchange. I got my name printed and was off guessing what the next move was.
I queued up at the bank, paid the fee and after 30 minutes was instructed to go back to the warehouse. By this time the lines were so thick it was hard to figure out which counter I would end up at and if it was the right one. Again I stood in what I suspected to be the right line and again a man popped in front of me, just like the weasel.
“Can you please join the line (at the back)?”
“Ah ah! Me I just want a stamp”
“What about the rest of us?”
“I don’t know”
His raw nature made me chuckle but honestly I wished I could yank him by the back of his shirt collar and settle him outside the entrance.
Stories like these remind me of just how lucky I am to be in UK. I recently renewed my passport ONLINE. I received the new one in a week's time!
ReplyDeleteMaybe Uganda will get to this state of efficiency... one day
LOL@kampune became kampune!!!!! I can so hear that in my head. Once in school there was a girl who wrote "teachers became teachers" in an essay- we still laugh to this day.
ReplyDeleteAs for the replies from the men who were "fixing themselves"- you gotta love Uganda.Mbu I was somewhere here!
Kim - to think that some things can be done just by the click of a button...
ReplyDelete3TOC - mu life eno! like my friend likes to say
Ahh, i like it here..welcome back, that's ug 101. let me know how getting a transcript goes
ReplyDeleteSleek - How unkind. I've walked that road already, it started with "ha! wasn't that the year the computers got a virus?..." I think I got it 6 months later.
ReplyDelete