Please tell us about your first car?
My first car was a silver 1997 Toyota Raum. When my wife became pregnant, we realised it was a delicate time, so we needed a car to run errands and avoid using boda bodas. I had a motorcycle, but that was no longer a viable option.
Was your first driving experience exciting or frightening?
My first solo drive was the day I picked up the car. I had bought it while I was away, and it was parked at a friend’s place in Wakiso. When I arrived, I went straight for it. That drive represented hope. Our family dream had finally come alive. I drove from Wakiso to Kiwanga in Mukono District, but my mind was all over the place. I pressed every button and opened everything I could touch. I was just excited and hopeful.
Why a Raum? Was it love at first sight or simply what your wallet could afford?
According to my mechanic, it had the best engine among the options available. The sliding doors were also practical, especially in tight spaces. I had initially wanted a RAV4, but I could not afford its fuel consumption. The Raum had a 1.5-litre engine, while the RAV4 had a 2.0-litre engine. In the end, reality chose for me.
What did the car mean to you back then?
I was the first person in my family to own a car, and my wife was too. It felt like we had finally reached the light at the end of the tunnel.
Did owning a car come with extra confidence?
Yes, it made a difference. People respected me more, especially when I was out in the field for work. My clothing choices also changed. When I was using a motorcycle, there were limits to how I could present myself. With a car, I had more freedom to dress differently. I felt more confident, especially when I walked into rooms where I wanted to make an impression.
When did Lubalusewo first show you that you were in a complicated relationship?
The car used to die unexpectedly in the middle of our journeys. Sometimes it would not start at all, and other times different systems would simply shut down. We kept replacing parts, thinking they were faulty. Pumps, motors; you name it. But the real problem turned out to be bad wiring and unstable power running through the vehicle.
Then I came across a mechanic known as Pastor Wellbeing. By that point, I was exhausted and honestly willing to try anything. Just the night before, I had been stuck in Kawempe at 11pm. The day before that, the car had suddenly stopped at the traffic lights in Ntinda. Pastor Wellbeing told me that if I gave him two hours, he would redo all the wiring in the car. I was skeptical, but I decided to let him try. He opened everything up, worked on the fuse box and rewired the entire car. When he finished, he asked for only Shs50,000. That man saved me a lot of money.
You once left Kampala to get medicine and somehow turned it into a two-day road trip. What happened?
My wife and I needed to get some medicine during her pregnancy. The plan was simple: drive to Mukono and come back. We had one change of clothes and had not made any serious plans. When we reached Mukono, we were told the medicine was actually in Kangulumira, on Kayunga Road. Since we had a car, we thought, ‘Why not?’
That turned out to be a bad decision.
We hit heavy traffic at Igar Petroleum and moved at a snail’s pace. It took us three hours to reach Mbalala. What started as a trip at 4pm had turned into 7pm by the time we reached Namawojjolo. Then the car started shutting down again. It would die, we would wait for it to cool down, and then continue driving. By 9pm, we were just entering Kampala Cement. Frustrated, we decided to find somewhere to sleep for the night. We first tried Lexus Resort, but it was closed. By 11pm, the car had stalled about four times. Eventually, we found a roadside bar with rooms in Namagunga, took the last available room and went to sleep. The next morning, the traffic was still heavy. We pressed on, got the medicine and eventually made it back. What was supposed to be a quick trip had become a two-day adventure.
Was there a moment when you wished you could simply disappear and leave the car behind?
Yes. My wife, our baby and I had gone to UBA Bank in the city centre. On our way back, we stopped at the traffic lights as usual. Suddenly, the car stopped and refused to start. I got out and placed warning triangles behind the car while people honked. I told my wife to take the baby and wait at the shop as I went to look for a mechanic. He eventually fixed the car, but the way people stared at us that day is something I will never forget.
Apart from dying at the worst possible moments, what else did Lubalusewo do to annoy you?
Those random shutdowns were the biggest thing. That car stressed me. It also had one control for all the windows, so I had to keep adjusting them for everyone. And there was no air conditioning. You either reached home soaked in sweat or covered in dust.
With all those repairs and fuel bills, how did you keep the relationship alive?
Fuel was manageable. Repairs were also manageable because most mechanics knew the car. I always found a way.
Did Lubalusewo teach you anything about being a grown-up?
It taught me that a car is not just a machine. It is a responsibility. The same way my newborn needed formula and diapers, the car needed fuel and servicing. Some things cannot be postponed. It trains you.
Was buying the car a brilliant decision or a very expensive mistake?
It was a necessary mistake.
And who came up with the name Lubalusewo?
My wife did. She called it Lubalusewo because the car would stop unexpectedly. Being in the passenger seat, she had a front-row seat to all the drama.
If Lubalusewo were sitting here today, what would you tell it?
I would thank it for teaching me responsibility. But no, I would not choose it again.
Why do first cars stay in our hearts, even the troublesome ones?
Because of the mistakes. The money you waste on wrong repairs and the lessons you learn the hard way.
You never forget those.