Transport

There are two types of transport here in rural Rwanda, very fast and very slow depending on how quickly you want to get to your destination. The large buses are my preferred mode of transport as they are usually quite strict about the one seat, one person policy and generally have fewer stops at recognized places. The journey to Kigali has at best taken me 2 hours and at worst 5 hours. The small buses cram as many people in, as is humanly possible ( the most I have counted is 23people on a 12 seater bus although the policy is that 4 can sit on the double seat with a put down bucket seat which means you sit in the crack in between)and they will generally wait until the bus is full before taking off, it will stop on command when you bang loudly enough on the side. The journey can take some considerable time as people get concertinaed in and out and bundles of produce, live or otherwise get stuffed under seats and into the limited boot space.

As a “muzungo” I often get asked to sit up in the front seat where it is against the law to have more then 3 passengers and you even get to wear a seat belt, the down side of this is that you can see the road ahead and more often than not right into the engine too. The roads here in the east are general pretty quiet with not much traffic until you get nearer Kigali but a lot of the road is under repair so one minute you are trucking along on tarmac then the next you are bumping around on sand and mud, there is no slowing down so you just see everyone holding on tightly to the handle of the seat in front and the windows being closed quickly to escape the dust.

There are several different bus companies all vying for business and it is not unusual for buses to step up a gear when they see a rival bus in front. The aim is to overtake it and get to the next stopping point to get the waiting passengers, Suddenly the bus drivers, generally aged between 18 and 25 all turn into formula 1 racing drivers and the race is on.

In Kigali, in the government’s attempt to tidy up the image of the city, the bus station was changed almost overnight from the centre of town to one of the suburbs to prevent all the out of town buses from going through the middle of the town. Unfortunately there are no buses which then take you from the bus station into town so you have to get a motto, which is awkward if you are laden with bags. There is also a move to get rid of all the smaller buses in town and replace them with smarter larger buses.

In the villages and towns, one of the most sought after professions is to be a motto driver, I’m told that in Kigali a motto driver can make in one day what a teacher can make in a month!! – little wonder that many leave the profession. If you can’t afford a motto bike then you can make a living by carrying passengers on the back of your bicycle. It’s actually a really nice way to travel and observe your surroundings while someone else does all the pedaling – as long as the road is flat!!

Of course most people travel by foot and the road sides are always busy with people carrying their wares on their heads or loading up their push bikes to transport water, food, furniture and almost anything else that can be carried. Young boys are to be seen pedaling bikes that are far too big for them but I have yet to see a girl pedaling a bike. Again it always men who are drivers of the buses but I have reliable information that there is in fact one lady bus driver. Every town and village has a driving school because being a driver will open up many job opportunities.

The police are very strict and will often have road checks where they will pull in the bus driver and check his papers. Lately I have seen them ask passengers to disembark and take out all their bags and sacks to be checked, I was told they are looking for illicit alcohol but with two grenade attacks in two different towns since the start of the year I’m not so sure?

The bus service is also used as the local postal service, there being no post in this part of the country so drivers will be handed envelopes to deliver at certain points en route where someone will be patiently waiting to collect. I sat behind one lady who was holding an airmail letter in her hand which she threw out of the window as we passed a small village, it certainly saves on a stamp.

Fish is a pretty rare commodity in the east and again much sought after so I have seen buses with strings of fish tied to the front of their engines in order to transport the fish without offending the passengers inside.

I am loving my motto journeys and have now built up enough courage to be able to sit without both arms wrapped round the motto driver’s waist and only hold on to the handle behind with one hand. The longest journey I have done so far took an hour and a half to get to a school for a training session but we stopped after 45 minutes to stretch our legs, its still a bit of a strain when the tracks get very bumpy and there’s a lot of tension in my leg muscles from gripping so tight!

As you can imagine any form of transport does not come without incidents, there have been a few volunteers who have come off their mottos, mainly when it has been raining and the tracks become very slippery, but other than cuts and bruises no one has suffered anything serious, another volunteer was in a bus which was tipped off the road by an on coming vehicle and ended up on its side in the drainage ditch but again escaped relatively unscathed.

My only incident to date was when the bus I was travelling in to Kigali clipped a cyclist who was carrying an enormous piece of furniture on the back of his bicycle and was sent flying. The bus immediately stopped and all the passengers jumped off to go and observe the scene. I was stuck right at the back of the bus not sure what was happening but could see the cyclist was at least still alive. Before I knew what was happening the bus driver had the bus turned round and the accident victim was bundled onto the floor of the bus with what appeared to be a pretty serious gaping head wound and we were off to the nearest hospital, back the way we had come. All my first aid went totally out of the window as I sat there unsure what to do and nothing with me in my rucksack which could provide any help whatsoever. The patient was still semi-conscious but when we arrived at the hospital the poor chap had to stagger, be half carried by the person who was accompanying him, from one place to another as they went in search of help – a very far cry from any episode of Casualty I’ve ever seen!