Be you Ugandan or someone from around the world, at some point, you have either used or seen someone using a boda boda (Motorcycle passenger carrier). Personally using a boda boda is a must for me almost each and every single day. It is probably the fastest means to get by around town.
If I am going to be late, then am most assuredly going to take a boda boda to get me to that place on time. I guess you must be asking yourself, what has this got to do with a boda boda heading to hell? Well, haven’t you heard of boda bodas that fart? Just kidding!
So on this one fateful Friday, my homeboy Dave decided to invite me over at Kyadondo Ruby Club so that we can both enjoy some good steak with him at Kyadondo. There was no way I was going to pass on this opportunity, if you have been to Kyadondo then you know that Michael and Daudi do know how to make that steak and rib. Quite some brilliant stuff those lads make.
The boda boda ride that nearly took me to hell
Let’s head back to the part of my ordeal that I had sworn never to tell the world. So, as I was wrapping up my day at the office, Dave decides to give me another ring just to remind me that he was already at Kyadondo and couldn’t wait for me any longer.
I got out of office, jumped on the next boda boda that I saw at the stage without even vetting because I wasn’t ready to let that steak just go given it was a Friday.

And off we went. The boda rider that I decided to go with had a jacket that wreaked of sweat but I had been in those scenarios before in my earlier days and wasn’t ready to let that come between me and my precious.
As we got past Golf Course and took the turn towards Kololo Airstrip, this ninja decided to fart and for some reason, I thought it was just sewage but my fellow friends, that wasn’t sewage it was fart of eggs and beans and that wasn’t nice one single bit.
The fart went for my nostrils and eyes, my tongue was every bit sour. Heck, this was worse than my first experience with red chilli. This felt like my balls had been kicked hard and the person was aiming to kill me.
I wanted to slap the back of the head but then I realized that we would both be flying high in the air if I had done that. I wanted to jump off the bike but recalled that we were just about a quarter away from the destination and it was a good bargain.
It was at that moment that I started feeling really jealous of the Chinese and their facial masks. But what’s with these guys also, wearing masks in an environment with really nice weather and oxygen.
By the time I got to Kyadondo, all I wanted to do was to wash my mouth over and over again, after I had to devour a Krest. I then went for that steak after an hour. Dave never got to know the story though.
I asked myself why I didn’t buy that helmet for 20K (twenty thousand Ugandan shillings) as I had initially wanted. My friends if you ain’t going to buy helmets for life safety, please do for the safety of your noses because these boda guys eat Rolexes and beans and pack one heck of a fart.
Also read: Echodu’s Mind: Me And My Regular Taxi Experience