Dear Santa, Please Visit Our Roads
Dear Santa,
Christmas is near, yet Ugandan roads feel like a long punishment disguised as a commute. A simple trip turns into a slow moving drama where common sense seems to have taken annual leave. Outbound traffic mysteriously multiplies into four lanes on a road built for two, and everyone looks shocked that nothing moves.
Santa, those sirens deserve a special mention. They scream through the jam with flashing lights and heroic noise, announcing the arrival of a legislator late for home. The sound rattles nerves, mirrors, and patience, yet traffic stays frozen. The siren passes, dignity remains stuck.
Then come the boda bodas, squeezing into spaces that exist only in imagination. They appear between bumpers, under mirrors, beside thoughts. Every move feels like a small gamble with fate, watched by drivers gripping steering wheels and prayers.
On the highways, drivers audition for Formula One. Speed replaces sense, overtaking replaces judgment, and every lane becomes a suggestion. Indicators feel optional, courtesy feels foreign, and everyone believes they are the exception.
So Santa, inside that oversized bag, is there room for a sack of common sense? Drop it generously on our roads. One scoop per driver might save this country a whole lot.
