On board the bus from Kampala, Uganda to Kigali, Rwanda. The muzungu’s travel tips
I didn’t understand much but the salesman’s words “Tsunami in the vagina” and aggressive pelvic thrusting into the bus seat next to him somehow caught my attention.
This guy should have been on the stage: the traveling salesman who literally travels as he travels, walking up and down the aisle of the bus from Kampala to Kigali, working the crowd, proffering samples and chucking out sweets to an enrapt audience of hecklers. How I wished I understood Luganda at that moment!
I remember him on my previous bus from Kampala to Kigali (en route to Kinigi, home of Rwanda’s mountain gorillas): the man who insisted we keep the bus windows open all night – and later proceeded to sell us cold remedies! [Note dear reader: this time he was promoting Chinese Royal Jelly – though I can’t confirm its libido effects!]
Blink or you’ll miss it…. without warning, the bus pulls over for a rare and impromptu stop for a ‘short call’. I choose my bush carefully. As I get comfy, a girl appears to sit down 10 feet away from me. So much for privacy. There’s a bump, bump, bump to my left as a man pedals downhill towards us, empty green jerry cans banging his bicycle seat as he passes over the bumpy path. (Did I say something about privacy?)
Show over, we return to the bus, and a pair of crutches emerges from the bushes, followed by a young girl. I’ll come to see a lot of people on crutches over my next few days in Rwanda and Burundi. I wonder at their stories, but daren’t ask.
A vicar in a pale blue shirt climbs on the bus, surrounded by men brandishing sticks of greasy meat ‘muchomo.’
“They wanted to drive without you” the girl next to me says as I squeeze myself back into my seat. (I’m sure the legroom has shrunk while I was behind that bush).
Back on the bus from Kampala to Kigali, Rwanda’s capital, we wind through the lush green hills and villages up to the border. I gaze out of the window. Matooke, matooke, matooke, as far as the eye can see. A young child in pink gum boots plays with a long stick in the mud. Two women walk across a field, bundles of babies tied around their middles, little feet sticking out either side of their waist. Too cute!
We slow to negotiate the slippery marram dirt roads and here – in the middle of nowhere and then a bit – a traffic jam! Bored, I jump out of the bus to stretch my legs, not realising the disaster that lies ahead of us. I march down towards the crowd by the river and 200 people turn around to me. I approach, camera in hand.
“Are you the photographer?” everyone asks as the Muzungu surveys the scene: a flooded river and an overturned truck, blocking the road to Rwanda. International Super Highway? Judge for yourself.
An employment opportunity presents itself: “Muzungu, I carry you for 1000 shillings!”
No mate, you have to pay ME for that particular public humiliation. (The thought of all those people laughing at the Muzungu being carried across the river, I don’t think so!) Oh what a spoilsport the Muzungu is, denying the villagers a good laugh…
They want me to believe how easy it will be to get a boda boda to the border a few kilometres away then jump on another bus at the border. I’m not rushing; I’m here to watch how this one unfolds.
We hang around eating huge chunks of fresh jackfruit (only 200 shillings in this part of the world!) as men unload the useless sodden bags of cement from the overturned lorry. “At least they can’t steal it!” Someone says.
I prepare for a night on the bus. Many people have abandoned ship and opted for the 1000 shilling piggyback ride but I stretch out on three seats. I’ve had three hours sleep the night before, sharing a single bed with a visiting onion farmer, and now it’s time for a zizz (sleep). Who cares if we’ll be eaten alive overnight by mosquitoes if we stay here next to the swamp? For now I’m in luxury!
To lose three hours in Africa is nothing, and I’m surprised (disappointed?) when from my slumber I hear a huge cheer as the lorry is winched back upright.
Time to move.
As we approach the border, a few minutes later, a man next to me opens a photo album of identity cards and ponders: “Tonight Matthew I’m going to be…” (a joke for the Brits, sorry…)
A man in an ill-fitting suit carries just one possession, his Kinyarwanda English dictionary.
At immigration, I ingratiate myself with every staff member, regardless of their nationality, in the hope they’ll remember my smiling Muzungu face upon my return.
I panic when I hear the revving of a bus engine. Perhaps the bus driver really does mean to leave me behind this time? And I recognise our luggage, strewn under a tree, bags being searched – not for bombs – but for cavera (plastic bags), illegal in Rwanda. I’m very nicely ordered to jettison mine, ready for the next adventure: Rwanda!
For more dramatic photos of the scene that greeted us, see the Diary of a Muzungu Facebook album.
Here are a few of my travel tips for bus travel from Kampala to Kigali:
- I don’t trust the driving skills of a man who puts all his faith in God, sorry. ‘Inshallah’ written in huge letters on the front window just doesn’t cut it with me. Check out the driver before you get into any vehicle. If he stinks of booze, get out!
- I travelled with Jaguar Executive Coaches. Expect to pay around 70,000 Uganda shillings (PRICE CORRECT April 2024). Buy the day before or just before departure. Early booking means you can choose your seat (recommended!) Call +256 (0)414 251855 or (0)782 811 128 for information. Visit Jaguar Executive Coach’s Facebook page for directions to their bus park in Kampala.
- On my return bus trip from Kigali to Kampala, I used Baby Coach. The fare was the same as Jaguar. You can pay in Rwandan francs or Uganda shillings, even in Kigali. Their office is in Nyabugogo bus park, Kigali.
- Where to sit in the bus: don’t even think of sitting over the back wheels. The Muzungu has endured this experience so you don’t have to! Read ‘Kampala to Nairobi by bus: 14 hours of speed humps’ for the reasons why.
- Does the bus have curtains? If not, you might want to sit on the side away from the sun or you’ll get burned, or at least uncomfortably hot.
- Always take mosquito repellent – you never know when you might need it.
- Always bring more water than you need – you never know where you’re going to end up!
- Bring water but try not to drink it! Apart from the unplanned stop and the border, we only stopped very briefly twice in eight plus hours of travel.
- Bring that horrible disinfectant hand gel stuff. If you’re lucky enough to find any real toilets en route, they are grim / have no running water / no soap.
- Take ear plugs and/or music. You might enjoy the person behind you singing loudly to their radio? I don’t.
For more of the Muzungu moaning about fellow travelers, read A short-tempered muzungu flies to Istanbul
On my recent bus ride from Kampala towards Nairobi the co-driver gathered up all the rubbish in the bus and jettisoned it out the leftside window. I gasped in horror and he said a bit sheepishly.. ‘Well I couldn’t throw it out the other side as there is traffic coming’.
Christine, that’s so awful, it’s funny! you can’t do that in Rwanda and get away with it. I did notice my Rwandese friends wouldn’t dare do anything like that but when we got to Burundi, they started chucking rubbish out of the window again! It just shows us humans do what we can get away with!
Hi Cha! I love your stories. This one is just off the hook! I particularly like the “privacy in the bush when you went for a short call”. It’s funny but true.
Thanks Celestine! You know, I think I could write a blog just about Bush toilets…!
How did I rear a daughter such as you? You put me to shame with your stoiscism. Have I spelt that correctly? You know I like a regular hourly stop……
stoicism…
Making the most of the dirt cheap transport system requires a particular mindset. And a recovery time of a couple of days! I think it took me two days to recover from the 20 hour journey back: Bujumbura to Kigali (8 hours in very comfortable Landcruiser) then a sweaty overnight bus from Kigali back to Kampala (10 huors). Hardly slept a wink. There were few seats left so rather than sit over the back wheels, I was wedged in bank of 3 seats. My shoulders were wedged solid between 2 men, to the point I got shoulder ache, neckache and backache! It was rather a weird experience. Then had a huge party that night, a send-off run for our Hasher friend. My body ground to a halt at 1:30 AM! Took me another day to recover.. As I write today, now recovering from the wedding itself! Look out for a Royal wedding blog soon. Amazing day.
Wonderful story! Thanks for the tips, very useful!
Hi Cha, the journey by bus to Kigali fro K’la is so hectic that at one time you don’t like any one on the bus.
Surely, the driver has no sympathy for sick people, say, the diabetics who need to empty their bladder more regularly.
The driver will stop to buy matooke for his trade back to K’la at the cost of time of passengers.
And for this, he will never apologise for the unnecessary delays.
Remember, there is even a large post behind the driver’s seat indicating so many points one of them not to have unnecessary stops and waste of time on the way.
It is not a cherished journey.
Hi Dominic, you’re right, these bus journeys are a bit of an endurance test! Travelling by day is definitely better because at least you can look out of the window. I like the idea of sleeping through the night but it just wasn’t possible on the return journey. I’d forgotten how many millions of speed bumps there are to wake you up every time you doze off!
I don’t even want to think about how awful some of these drivers are but, to be fair, I had no problems at all on this trip. (Even if the bus did apparently want to to drive off without me!) I thought the staff checking tickets etc were courteous enough.
Great reading! Reminds me of my travels throughout Kenya! Being a ‘Muzungu’ prepared me for being a Guailo in Hong Kong! 😉
Hi Nicole, yes I think bus journeys in Kenya and Uganda are pretty similar – always lots to see / hear / smell! Hmmmm a Guailo, that’s a new one on me. Did you get called it when you walk down the street in HK?
We went to visit our son in Soroti in April, and we did the transfer Kampala-Soroti-Kampala via PostBus.
I fully share your advice about NOT sitting on the rear wheels (we did) and to sit away from the sun. Although we didn’t have any major issues with the trip, 11 hours were way too many for us. I was sitting in a middle seat and here is the fat lady who sat near me (and on me) for about 6 hours: http://on.fb.me/16DY0Tj
Hi Luca, that photo is brilliant! I can see she shared half of your seat too! There’s no room for ‘personal body space’ issues on an African bus journey! How was Soroti? What is your son doing there?
Another great travelogue Cha. I was with you at every turn for a while there and not totally envious I must say! Ear plugs yes, maybe nose and other plugs too?! My back hurts just reading about that bus trip/nightmare. What a soft life we lead in the UK! Glad no-one hurt in the lorry capsize BTW. Great pictures and love reading the other comments too. Mum may not be able to spell stoicism but we are both amazed at your fortitude. The BBC World Service awaits your talents! XXXPA
“Where to sit in the bus: don’t even think of sitting over the back wheels. The Muzungu has endured this experience so you don’t have to!” I like, majority of Ugandans or i would say Africans don’t like writting, theres very little published work from our part of the world. Alot needs to be done to promote a good writting culture so that information can be passed on to different people.
Thanks for dropping by, Your Excellency.
I have taken the bus from Kampala to Mbarara a few times .. my wife just arranges a bribe for us to sit in the front seats next to the driver
Front seats certainly have the best legroom but not everyone wants to sit so close to the front.
I enjoy reading your blog, interesting bout how Muzungu sees Africa. I am sorry to say when you are making comments positive or negative, try to avoind use the “Africa” when you are talking about your experience in one country. Africa is a continent, not one country with one culture. So, when you write that “loosing three houses in Africa is nothing” it sound very bad and strange. You mean that Africa doesn’t care about time? Common, why it using the name of the country where time doesn’t matter if you know that country. I would like to see you being specific, not putting all Africa in one basket. Can you imagine if someone could say that discrimination and racism is normal for White people or White people are racist. Time is Money for everyone, just for example, go Rwanda, you will see how time is money. Thank you and keep writing, I like reading your words.
Hi Rafik, thanks for taking the time to comment.
I appreciate where you’re coming from but note that it was the busdriver who chose the words NO HURRY IN AFRICA – and it could not have been a more fitting description for my very delayed journey between two countries.
You wouldn’t believe the number of Ugandans and African friends from other countries (e.g. Ghana and Nigeria) who tell me what terrible timekeepers Africans are. Their words not mine. (Many Ugandans are better timekeepers than me, I confess! LOL).
I prefer the interesting twist that Stephen Rwangeyzi puts to it. “In Africa we have time, in Europe they have watches.” Beautifully put, don’t you think? I had the honour of interviewing Stephen once. Interview with a rebel: Ugandan cultural activist Stephen Rwangyezi.
I invite you to read more of the 300+ articles I’ve written from East Africa. In addition to my blog, I have written for publications in Uganda, Rwanda, Kenya, Zambia and the UK.
I’ve been reading your blogs and i’m excited to visit EACs next month. Thanks for very useful and interesting tips. My plan is to fly to Kigali then after a month i’l take bus to Kampala and after another month bus to NairobiI have some questions that i’d love to hear your advice from:
1/ I have 2 suitcases of stuff and im not sure if i bring them both to Rwanda, when crossing border by bus to Uganda and later Kenya, will it be a big time consuming problem at the border ?
2/ Do i have to carry the suitcase/bags off the bus to a certain place to get them checked or do the securities do it themselves ?
Thanks 😀
Hi Tung
1. When crossing the border, all large suitcases and bags are removed from the ‘hold’ of the bus and searched. Interestingly, the Rwandese have banned cavera (plastic carrier bags) and confiscate them at borders. It will take a little time to check bags plus you as a non East African will have to pay for a visa (which also takes a little time) so I suggest you try and get off the bus first. You won’t get left behind tho 🙂
2. Big suitcases will be stowed underneath the bus and staff will remove them for you and put them back on the bus.
I’ve done these journeys many times without issues.
Safari njema – safe journey 🙂
Not just funny but realistic for those years, I have just smiled for a while when I saw a “Baby coach return from Kigali to Kampala those years”,
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Hi Em Ma, thanks for the recommendation, will definitely look out for them 🙂