It is not acceptable that we should take the lack of truth among our country men as the norm.Am sure you will find no Ugandan who has not been a victim of the cunning antics of our sales men and women in some cases. The point am trying to make is drawn from several experiences I have been fortunate to meet.
Fortunate, because these encounters have shaped my persona and ridded me of any naivety. Every Ugandan who has ever gone shopping, taken a taxi or even asked for directions has met the countryman, who will lie to you for no reason.
This morning as I was sitted in a taxi thinking about where my decisions have now reached me .However, the actions of this conductor chap cut short my thought process. This man decides to instruct the driver to stop for passengers so that he can fill up an already full taxi.
I am used to this, so my patience prevailed. So I was keen to listen to how he promised his new passengers as to how their discomfort would be short lived since he was yet to offload at the next stage just a few 100 meters ahead. However, this never happened. We exceeded the few meters and continued the journey as usual. I don’t know what pulled my interest to the mindset of this man, probably the “Ugandaness” of his actions.
So I sat there wondering, why tell your new passengers “mwe sikemu, waliwo agenda okuvamu wali my maso” and yet you know this is not the case. To be honest I felt like asking this man if he paid attention to the statements he makes or if he takes his passengers for doldrums with no capacity to make decisions.
This is one among the multiple encounters that have lately been meeting. You go into a shop and buy Beats be Dre headphones expensively so as the sales man convinces you. “zino zikuba nyo.‘
You go home and use them for less than 2 weeks and now you have only one ear piece working. You ponder if you should go and confront his bad salesmanship or reflect on wether your naivety of sales men has reached you to this point.
“Carrot zabuze,” defends the market lady of her exorbitant prices. I simply smile at loss of a better reaction.
“Wandegeya nkumi nya,” says the Boda Boda man, for a distance equivalent of garden city to Hotel Africana. For these one’s I just walk away, even negotiating would them is too precious time to give them.
“So Ugandan,” is how one would term such characters. I find however that I live in a desert.
Scorched of authenticity, flooded by duplicity.