This is a rough illustration of how my average pre-ride negotiation with a boda boda man has evolved during the last few months in Kampala.

November:

“Hello, my friend! You go?”
“Hi, how are you?”
“Fine. You?”
“Very well. I’m going to Tank Hill, Muyenga, a place near Hotel International. Do you know where that is?”
“I know”.
“How much?”
“Five thousand”.
“You’re kidding”.
“It’s far”.
“How about two five. That’s a fair price”.
“No way, it’s far. Four”.
“It’s got to be two five. That’s what I paid yesterday for the same trip”.
“At least give me three five”.
“Well, your bike looks better than average. I’ll pay three thousand”.
“Take a seat”.

Now:

“Hello. How are you?”
“Hi, Mike. Fine. I’m going home”.
“Hop on”.

By the way, the term boda boda itself is Swahili but hardly an indigenous phrase. The word border (the bikes used to transport people back and forth across the Kenyan border, one source says) has just been turned into a form suitable for a Bantu language. The basic meaning is a bicycle taxi, and the motorbikes have started using the same name too. I haven’t even tried the bicycle option because Kampala is a very hilly city.

07:51