It was either UGX 50,000 or they would not touch the car. The group comprised about 6 energetic youth. This is team A.
Team B would have none of it. It was a couple, clearly of Oriental extraction. They spoke broken but passable English. Team A spoke Luganda. Only.
Team B was in trouble. The driver of their SUV had misjudged a deep gutter while making a left turn. The gutter completely swallowed up the left front tire. The monster car was now stuck, balancing on two wheels at a precarious angle. This was right in front of the Makerere university main gate.
The foreigners begged and pleaded with team A to help them lift the car out of the gutter. Their pleas fell on deaf ears. Clearly, negotiations had broken down. The problem was exacerbated by the lack of a common language. Team A speak no English, team B speak no Luganda. Does that qualify as a catch-22?
Time check, 9:30pm. I am walking on my way home when I come across the scene of the mishap. Normally, I do not meddle in business not my own. At the end of a long day, a driver's error of judgment was certainly not my business. Then a line from the Good Book came to memory. Thank heavens for Sunday school.
"And you are to love those who are aliens, for you yourselves were aliens in Egypt."
I have never been an alien in Egypt but purely in metaphorical terms, I have been one many times over. Spur of the moment (and a fuzzy Sunday school conscience), I decided to intervene.
I quickly identified the de facto leader of team A and addressed him directly. In faultless Luganda. By my appearance, I did not fit so he quickly listened up.
In all fairness, your fee of UGX 50K is way too high. Team B is not going to pay up. Better come up with a compromise charge.
UGX 30K.
I told him it was still high but I would talk to team B to "re-start" negotiations on behalf of his team. This seemed agreeable with him. The rest of team A were now gathered around him, listening intently to me.
I walked over to the foreign couple. The lady spoke animatedly, wringing her hands in despair.
Please help, please help, please help, blah, blah. We are taking a sick person to the hospital. She implored me repeatedly to intervene and help them free the car. Clearly, I am the messiah here.
I told her to calm down. Team A was ready to help but they would need payment for their time. The alternative was to hire a breakdown truck but that would be too costly. She consulted her counterpart, the elderly gentleman on the wheel and came back with an "offer".
UGX 10K.
I communicate the new offer to team A. It is flatly rejected. 30K or nothing.
Back to the distraught lady. (Why I am even doing this, I have no idea!). I tell her to raise it to UGX 20,000. She seemed about to faint and I soon understood why. She thought that each member of team A was demanding that amount. A whooping total of UGX 120,000! I told her no, no, no. UGX 20K for everyone.
She nodded her head vigorously. Palpable relief. Back to team A.
The last offer is UGX 20K. Don't be fools. Get the car out, get paid, go home. I made it clear I did not want a cent of the money, I was just helping. They looked at me like I was an alien. I certainly didn't fit. They cheered raucously and quickly jumped into the gutter.
I made a quick assessment of how best and fast to get the car out. I then divided and deployed them accordingly. I stood aside, ordered the driver to fire up the engine, rev it and engage the reverse gear. He complied eagerly. Team A heaved, huffed, puffed and lifted. 12 eager hands and 10 seconds later, the car was out of the gutter and rearing to go. I did not lift a finger to help.
Relief all around and more cheers. The lady handed over the UGX 20K to the leader and thanked us all profusely. I cautioned the driver to be more careful and walked off.
Alone with my thoughts, I pondered whether I had just witnessed help prompted by greed or poverty.
20K amongst six men meant about UGX 3K per head. This was less than a dollar. It all seemed like a pittance to me and thoroughly pathetic. But I did some quick math and realized that in dollar terms, their rate was about 85 cents per head for 10 seconds of "work", which would be about $8.50 a minute or $60 an hour. For an 8-hour work shift, that would amount to a handsome $480 a day.
I remembered a remark made by one of the boys as they went off to share the money. "Mwana, mbadde yala naye nfunye sapa". Loosely, "I was down on cash but now I have got supper".
I imagine it was not out of greed that they helped.
