On a recent morning during the traffic police’s operation against taxis in dangerous mechanical condition (DMCs), the roof of the taxi that carried me to Kampala via Sentema Road was leaking.
The backseat in the left corner was soon soaked. For a while, the other passengers and I simply leaned away from the water. Then the midmorning rain intensified, and water began flowing from the roof like a stream down a mountain.
Inside, the taxi’s metal ribs were exposed and its cracked floor spat muddy water into the cabin. How, we wondered, was this taxi considered roadworthy?
Perhaps the traffic police have their own list of what makes a taxi dangerous. But commuters have another; the things we would happily see disappear from our daily rides.
Hazards at every turn
Many a passenger has boarded an old taxi dressed to the nines and stepped out looking like they lost a fight with a barbed-wire fence, thanks to exposed metal edges that shred whatever they touch. And can we talk about the legroom, or the complete lack of it? You will spend the entire ride questioning the life choices that led you to that particular taxi.
If you are plus-size, you may not even get to choose your seat. That decision belongs to the conductor, who is convinced the vehicle can fit exactly one more passenger. Then you hear it: ‘Mwesikeemu awo,’ as he squeezes his hip against yours, pretending there is still space.
The Coasters plying the Lungujja-Busega route have a special talent for failing halfway up a hill, sending everyone into panic as the vehicle rolls backwards into chaos.
Then there is the Namuwongo evening crew. These drivers hardly use conductors, so when the taxi stops to pick up or drop someone, pull the door with care. It might just collapse on your leg.
And those bendable seats? Avoid them if you can. They are uncomfortable, prone to breaking, and depending on where you sit, they can turn you into a passenger on standby. Anyone behind or beside you may need to get out at any moment. If you are slow to move, prepare for insults from the conductor, the driver, fellow passengers, or all three at once.
Then there are the unscheduled stops. Taxis can stop almost anywhere to pick someone up, but try telling the conductor, ‘Mu maaso awo,’ and he may drag you several metres forward with a straight face: ‘Ssebo, wano tewali parking.’ (Sir, there is no parking here.)
Where perfume goes to die
If you board a taxi connecting to a landing site, your deodorant, and whatever classy perfume you dared to wear — will surrender to the smell of raw fish. Fish vendors prefer the seats behind the driver, where their plastic buckets fit neatly. But when there are more than three of them, the rest spread out like a territorial invasion. Suddenly, you are no longer in a taxi. You are travelling in a moving fish market, and you are the only customer who did not bring stock.
Other times, the smell comes from the passengers themselves. Bad breath, smelly hair, body odour that could stop traffic. And sometimes, just sometimes the smell comes from the taxi itself.
Some of those tired carriers are taxis by day but temporary bedrooms at night for homeless taxi touts, kanaabe, or guards at washing bays. They are hosed down at dawn, and inevitably, water spills over the dusty seats, soaking into foam that never really dries. Yet within 30 minutes, the same taxi is back on the road, hunting for early birds. So if you catch the first commute and wonder why the seat feels damp and smells like a cross between detergent and regret, now you know.
New Content Item (1) Weak brakes and loose steering wheels
Nothing says ‘we might not make it’ quite like a vehicle that struggles to stop, pulls sharply to one side, or requires the driver to pump the brake like he is trying to revive a dying relative. You sit there, watching his leg work overtime, and you start doing mental math about the distance to your destination versus the distance to the nearest hospital.
Then there are those taxis that start the journey with unusual vibrations and proceed to wander across the road like a confused toddler. The steering wheel has so much play that the driver is basically suggesting a direction and hoping the car agrees. The brakes stopped working properly five years ago, but nobody told the owner, or maybe they did and he just added it to the list of things to ignore.
Whether the journey continues is usually determined by the desperation of the passengers. The cautious ones demand the car be parked immediately, and they will happily walk the rest of the way in the rain.
The gullible ones just pray the taxi will take them to their destination, trusting that God has a special fondness for commuters with poor judgment. And then there is the steering wheel that comes off in the driver’s hands. Yes, that happens. Watch his face when he has to reattach it mid-turn while reassuring everyone that ‘it is just loose.’ Just loose.
As if that is a feature, not a bug. You will laugh about it later , if there is a later.
Broken doors and windows
A door that will not close properly is not just an inconvenience. It is a health hazard. Your heart is constantly threatening to leave your chest because the thing could pop open at any second. One time, a passenger almost tumbled out when the door simply swung open like it had somewhere better to be.
The conductor reached over, yanked it shut, and kept moving without a word. The passenger turned white as a ghost. The conductor just told them: ‘Hold it next time.’ Hold it? It is a door, not a grudge. But apparently, in these taxis, everything requires emotional labour.
Then there are the windows. I have watched passengers nearly come to blows because one thinks the other is deliberately refusing to open or close it. The truth? The window crank gave up on life three years ago. It is purely decorative now.
But try explaining that to someone who is convinced you are hoarding all the fresh air for yourself.
And let us not forget the windows that are permanently open because the glass is long gone and someone patched the hole with a torn kaveera. It flaps in the wind like a sad flag, offering zero protection from dust, rain, or the street vendor who suddenly has his hand in your face.
Resident parasites
Before boarding taxis that ply the Bulenga-Buloba-Bujuuko route at night, carry a mosquito net. Or prepare to slap yourself silly fighting flying parasites. And if you have used a taxi even once, you might unknowingly start a bedbug farm at home.
Remember ‘seed dispersal’ by animals from primary school? One bedbug hitches a ride from one passenger’s home or another taxi. It slips beneath another passenger’s collar, belt or braids, patiently waiting to be delivered to a new home. And the rest is history.
Bedbugs aside, imagine the chaos a rat can cause in a taxi.
‘Our hearts skipped as the rat jumped from one hiding place to another,’ one woman recalls of a Kyaliwajjala taxi. But the driver and conductor were unbothered.
‘Relax, that is a resident rat. It has no problem.’
Leaking and broken engines
You have probably seen a group of passengers standing in the middle of traffic looking miserable, bags in hand, because a taxi’s engine finally gave up the fight.
Meanwhile, the driver stands at the front, hood open, staring at the engine like a man visiting a sick relative he knows he cannot save.
The thing about a broken engine is that it is never just a mechanical failure. It is a social event. Within seconds, everyone on the taxi becomes an expert mechanic. The man in the back row swears it is the alternator. The woman by the window insists it is the fuel pump. The conductor, who has never opened a toolbox in his life, starts kicking the tyres and blaming the driver for ‘overworking the machine.’ The only person who stays quiet is the actual driver, who knows he bought this vehicle when it was already in retirement.
Then there is the water. If you ever look down during a rainy ride and find your feet doing a little swim in the footwell, do not panic. The vehicle is not sinking. It is just that the bodywork has deteriorated so thoroughly that the outside is now practically the inside. The floor is less of a floor and more of a suggestion. Water drips from places you did not know existed — the roof, the door frames, the gear stick area, as if the taxi is trying to rehydrate you after a long day. Passengers lift their bags to their laps like they are protecting infants from a flood. The conductor, meanwhile, tells everyone to ‘just move a little’ as if the puddle has a preferred seating arrangement.
And the smell that follows? A permanent dampness, mixed with engine oil, mixed with whatever ambition died in that footwell years ago. You will carry it on your clothes for hours, walking into your meeting smelling like a garage that went through a divorce. That, my friend, is the true cost of the affordable fare that old taxis promise.
And yet, we keep boarding
For all these complaints, there is one inconvenient truth. When the rain is pouring, the road is dark, the sun is scorching or the boda boda rider quotes a fare that makes you reconsider your entire journey, even the tired old taxi suddenly looks attractive.
You squeeze into half a seat.
You share your space with a fish bucket. You listen to a stranger’s family secrets, dodge a preacher’s accusations, fight mosquitoes or discover that your neighbour has brought a chicken aboard.
You may even sit on a wet sponge and spend the rest of the day wondering what exactly soaked your trousers. Then you get home. And tomorrow, you board another one.
When is a taxi too dangerous to board?
A taxi does not have to look old to be unsafe. Before squeezing into one, check for these warning signs:
Bad tyres: Look for bald tread, cracks, bulges or visibly damaged tyres.
Weak brakes: If the vehicle struggles to stop, pulls sharply to one side or the driver repeatedly pumps the brake, be cautious.
Loose steering: Excessive play, unusual vibrations or a vehicle that wanders across the road can point to steering or suspension problems.
Broken doors: A door that will not close properly is more than an inconvenience, especially on a busy road.
Cracked windscreen: A heavily damaged windscreen can affect visibility and may worsen under impact.
Loose or exposed metal: Sharp edges inside the passenger compartment can injure passengers.
Leaking roof or floor: Water entering the cabin may indicate serious deterioration of the vehicle body.
Overloading: If passengers are squeezed into every available space, the vehicle may be carrying more people than it was designed for.
Strange noises: Grinding, knocking, excessive rattling or unusual engine sounds should not simply be ignored.
Missing safety equipment: Check whether the vehicle has basic equipment such as a fire extinguisher and functional seat belts where fitted.
The rule is simple: An uncomfortable taxi is one thing; a taxi with a defect that could cause a crash is another. If something feels seriously wrong, speak up or choose another taxi.