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Do you know the place?

I've been lead on a wild marabou chase. I was supposed to visit Stella, last years Act Nower from CRO, on semi-official business. I give the name of the school to one of the boda boda men in town. «Do you know where it is?» I ask. «Yes, yes,» he replies, &laqou;I know.» (One should think that by now i would be able to tell when someone only is after my business...) He agrees to take me for four thousand shillings. Well out of the town, on Entebbe road, the driver turns and asks me: «So, do you know the place?raquo; If I had been a violent man, I could have snapped his neck.

It takes another fifteen minutes before we find another boda-guy who actually «knows the place». It turns out to way out past the airport, more than thirty kilometres away, and way out of the range of a boda boda motorcycle. Now, I could have taken a matatu from there, but it is getting late. I am supposed to travel to Mbale today, and I need to be on the road well before nightfall. I do not intend to brave the Jinja-Iganga road in the dark - I value my life.

And the moral of the story? The boda boda-man got away with eight thousand shillings. I guess he was happy. And you should always try making the world a happier place.

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