Traffic

One day last year I discovered a new game on my parent’s coffee table: Rush hour. It consists of a number of small plastic cars that can only move vertical or horizontal within a restricted area, and one little red car that needs to find its way to the exit. I enjoyed playing it, not thinking much of it. But from this week I know where the game was invented: Kampala!

Taxi busses (Mutatu’s), motor cycles (boda boda’s), trucks, bicycles, cars and pedestrians are moving along Entebbe road into the city. If there were any lines on the tarmac or a difference between paved and non-paved road, no one seems to bother.
As we move with the crowd this morning, Inge explains to me that she only dared to start driving when she understood the system. “Is there a system?” I ask surprised, looking again at the uncontrollable and unpredictable traffic-movements around us. "Yes", Inge assures me: “You are responsible for the square meter in front of you”.
Cars have mirrors and indicators but no-one seems to bother to actually use them. As we’re talking a 4x4 suddenly takes the half a meter in front of us, the driver not seeming to be aware of anyone else on the road, let alone our relatively small and scratched blue car.

At least the little red car in ‘Rush hour’ stays unharmed cause the game does have ‘lines’ along which the traffic is supposed to be moving. Getting it out of the traffic jam is a matter of thinking ahead, anticipating, planning. Hm, maybe the game wasn’t invented in Kampala after all...