The Observer (Kampala)
Pablo
25 May 2011
opinion
Several people who meet and stop me always ask, “Pablo, when is happiness killing you?”
It almost did on Monday this week. My wife and I were driving home. We were sharing sweet nothings and laughing like we had been hired until something you only watch in action packed movies happened.
Just so you know, my wife is acousticophobic. She fears noise. Actually, to be more precise, she’s ligyrophobic. She has an immense fear of loud noises. Her ringtone is in silent. Our domestic assistant, whom most people prefer to call a housegirl, has phonophobia. She fears not only general noise, but also voices, including hers.
It may also refer to a fear of telephones, which at times I do possess, depending on who is calling. This has inevitably rendered my car horn useless. At times I have to stop and clap for people to make way when they are blocking my path.
We are stuck in a traffic jam at Wandegeya right in front of the police station when, suddenly, drivers and motorcyclists start blowing their horns. My wife is quick to react, given her bad relationship with noise. Little do we know that somewhere across the road, is a policeman monitoring our excitement that graduates into fear and panic.
When the cars start moving, we are surrounded by cops who, in ninja style, order me to drive to the police station. I’m then told that I was being held for being a common nuisance by hooting. For a moment I thought they were referring to my calling as a comedian.
I try to defend myself but the afande has already made up his mind. I was laughing. That’s the number one symptom, characteristic, and quality of a person who is blowing or intends to blow his car horn to pollute the air with noise.
I won’t dwell on what transpired at the police station with intentions of not assuaging the excruciating hardships that were involved. I thank God that I was released but there are things that I learnt through this entire quagmire. There are things that you shouldn’t do at 5pm in Kampala. Please don’t laugh, smile or show any sign of happiness lest it will be used against you. It’s illegal. I will never laugh at 5pm. Promise.
Don’t keep your mobile phone in loud, normal or silent. Just switch it off. Some ringtones are like sirens. You might think an ambulance is approaching Mulago hospital. Some phones have weird vibration. It might sound like a car horn. If happiness is your favourite distraction, please avoid being near a police station or next to armed brothers at 5pm.
Your excitement might turn out to be a tragic moment that will remind you of the Kichwamba massacres. Street preachers, especially those of the Traffic Lights ministries, please observe a moment of silence when it strikes that hour. This hour is deadly. It’s no respecter of religion. I encourage conductors not to continue with their wolokoso calling out for passengers.
Avoid hooting or blowing your horn even if a cow decides to sit in the way. You either get out of the car and milk it or assume you are at a zebra crossing waiting for a pedestrian to cross. Don’t read a policeman’s name tag. That’s blackmail. What have you been doing all day to read it at that specific hour? Who knows, you could be a witchdoctor with clandestine intentions.
We know that you are in love but please if you are newlyweds and the magical hour finds you on the road, please tell the chauffeurs not to blow the traditional bagole horn or else your marriage won’t wait till death do you part.
If I were a traffic policeman, I wouldn’t blow the whistle at that hour. You never know who is watching.
AllAfrica – All the Time
Taken from:
Pablo – Things Not to do At 5pm in Kampala