Joining walking class due to diesel shortage
Henry H. Ssali
I left home on Monday morning, thinking that this week would be just like any other. I stopped at Engen in Bunga, only to be told there was no diesel. I passed by more than eight stations in Kansanga, Kabalagala, Nsambya and Kibuli only to be told the same “no diesel” story.
After Total in Kibuli, my car came to an abrupt halt, as it couldn't run on empty anymore. I abandoned it on the road and joined the walking class on my way to work.
During the lunch break, I moved out of office, with a five-litre jerrycan in hand, in search of the scarce liquid. I hitched a lift from a friend in her saloon Toyota, popularly known as Kikumi. For once I envied her Kikumi as my four wheel drive that I usually flatter by referring to it an SUV (sports utility vehicle) and sometimes Hummer (it is not related to a Hummer in any terms be it price, luxury, look or even country of origin) was grounded somewhere in Kibuli.
After cruising around the city and its suburbs, we realised that our search for diesel was in vain, and besides she had to go back to work. So she abandoned me near the Jinja Road roundabout. With Shell Jinja Road in full view, I knew my search had come to an end.
At Jinja Road, they told me that diesel had just run out, so I had to think of a plan Z. I had already exhausted plan A, B, C, D, E … all the way up to plan Y. Boda boda chaps usually know all corners of the city, so I sat on a boda boda and when the guy asked me where I was heading to, I told him, "Any station with diesel." He told me that he couldn't help me and as I was about give up, another boda boda rider who had been within earshot came to my rescue telling me he knew where I could get diesel.
I willingly sat on his bike and to my chagrin; he took me to Total on Station Road. I was annoyed, not because there was no fuel, but this chap had taken advantage of my predicament to fleece me of Shs500. The Total station was just about 70 metres from Shell, which was a walking distance.
Anyway enough of the boda boda cheats. More trouble lay ahead. There was a thick traffic jam at this station and the cars either had diplomatic, government or customised number plates. Others were company cars - and here I was with my small jerrycan, also wanting diesel.
After being told that there was no diesel for me, I went down on my knees and begged for just a litre in order to help me ground my 'Hummer' at a safe parking place but they wouldn't listen to me.
30 minutes later, these guys realised that I was desperate, so they felt pity and gave me fuel for just Shs5,000 - I thought the days of rationing had come to an end in 1986, when President Museveni promised a fundamental change.
Anyway the fuel of Shs5,000 was just enough for me to use to drive around to find more so that I could fill my tank. I finally found it at Hared petrol station in Nsambya but I thought their price of Shs2,500 was broad day light robbery. "When has diesel ever been more expensive than petrol? Soon you will be telling us that a litre of paraffin is Shs4,000," I told off the attendants who told me to either pay the pump price or leave.
Having no option, I obliged and paid, after all in my economics lessons I had learnt that price increases due to demand, but I gave up my full tank hallucinations, not with a litre at Shs2,500.
The next day I read in the papers that a litre of diesel had shot to Shs3,000, which made me happy because I had got a good deal at Hared. However, I'm now contemplating joining the walking class until the diesel prices stabilise.
hssali@monitor.co.ug
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