Ride Along

Last night I took an uber at about 21:55. I usually sit in the front when I am alone but I let Karen have the co-driver’s seat as I placed my ‘luggage’ in the back. Some people feel safer at the back but I am more comfortable studying my chauffeur in this position. I digress.

Shortly after dropping off Karen, he initiated a conversation.

*Hakim*: How is work with your organisation?

Me: Which organisation?

Him: You do fundraising or something…?

Me: How did you know?
* I notice the donation boxes I placed in the car before getting in*

Oh…you saw the boxes. <Face palm> Work is good

Him: What exactly do you do?

Me: We work with vulnerable children to improve their literacy. Right now we are working in Makindye division.

He asked several other questions about how we started, what we have achieved and how we raise funds. . As we were nearing Old Kampala he said “I would also like to start paying monthly subscription, from January. I was in total awe.

‘When did my pitching skills get this good?’ I thought to myself. Just a few minutes into the ride and he wants to subscribe? It was suspicious.

He asked me about what my parents think of this decision and remarked. “If only Uganda had 100 more of you, we would be in a better place. You are so young yet you are doing so much to improve lives.” I muttered an awkward thank you and was grateful to be at the back sans eye contact.

I realise the conversation has been heavily one-sided and begin to ask him about what he does. He mentioned he owns a transport company. We had just been talking about the need to hire a car for a scheduled 4040 trip to deliver children’s books across the country at our meeting earlier. I grinned as I made a mental note.

We were now getting closer to my home and the most bizarre thing happened. Hakim began to slow down and I noticed the indicators were rightly directed towards my stop. He was off by just one house and I had not given him any directions up until this point. I told him it was the next turn and he quietly drove- then parked.

Me: Have you dropped me off before?

Hakim: *Laughs*

Me: How did you know where to turn?

Him: The GPS

Me: That is a lie. My location shows a landmark close to home, not the actual house

Him: You are a big woman, I know where you live

Me: *Freaking out a little* Please tell me you have been here before so my heart can settle

Him: Relax Esther. One day you will know

Me: I am going to spend the night trying to figure this out. I will probably not sleep. Please explain.

By this time my left leg is out of the car but the rest of my body is intact as I wait for an explanation. I was holding onto his fare, my own little ransom.

******

At about this time last month, I set off from home to make deliveries to 3 locations. Donation boxes to be placed at Karveli restaurant, Hair by Zzziwa and the Kurb. They were fragile and I opted to hire a car. When we got to destination number 2, Krishna mart mall, I got out of the co-driver’s seat to pick a box from the back seat. The driver had forgotten that I would have to pick something from the back. He reversed the car to get a good parking spot and ran over my left foot in the process. I let out a silent scream and he noticed a little too late. He yelled in disbelief, with a million apologies. Amidst my shock, I asked him to drive towards the front to free my foot which was still stuck.

What happened next stunned me as much as my small ‘audience.’ I carried the box and walked right towards the security check point. The security guards asked me if I needed help or a hospital perhaps but I just shook my head and kept walking. Even my tears froze. It is kind of funny now. *SMH*

When I got back, the driver could barely look at me. His gaze kept drifting towards my foot and I kept on repeating “I’m fine.” I got to the Kurb and asked him to end the trip. He tried to refuse the money but I wouldn’t hear of it. I kept reminding him it was an accident.

My plan was to make the last drop off and take a boda boda (motorbike) to the office. I received a phone call as I waited for management to confirm where I could place the box. It was the driver. He said he was waiting for me so that he could take me wherever I had to go. I tried to fight it but he would not budge. I gave in.

The trip was quite short but he spent it apologising and asking about my foot every 2 minutes. The pain was mild and I had so much on my mind, I had quickly moved on. I hoped he would do the same, for his own sanity.

We finally got to the office and I assured him I was okay. My friends/colleagues were equally shocked by the tale. Besides mild pain, I really was fine. No swelling or (visible) blood clot. After a couple of days, I was as good as new.

*****

“You were very kind to me after that accident in Kisementi, Hakim said. You forgot me but I can never forget you.” At this point I was utterly dumbfounded.

“I didn’t even tell my wife, nothing like that had ever happened to me. I knew that God would bring you back into my life. When you requested the uber today, it did not show your name or face but when you called, your name came up because I had saved your number to check on your foot.”

I was completely speechless. What are the odds that the same person who drove me to drop off the boxes appeared on the same day I had to take them back home, almost exactly one month later…? **&^%(@?<<!

Eerie.

In the words of Hakim “Sometimes bad things happen to you and you have no idea why but there is a reason for them. You just never know what God has planned for your future.”

I have nothing more to add. Listen to Hakim

Happy new year!

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