more adventures with the Ugandan legal system
on Random Uganda (Uganda), 18/Dec/2009 05:21, 34 days ago
December 15thI managed to get my wallet stolen over the weekend. I won’t mention the name of the club, because I would hate to give them bad publicity (but it’s spelled I-G-U-A-N-A). In their defense, they do have a sign up over the bar saying to be on the lookout for pickpockets—right next to the sign saying that effective Dec. 1st they will be ‘improving’their drink prices (raising the price of a bottle of beer to 3500/=, outrageous, absolutely outrageous, this simply will not stand).I had read the sign and moved my wallet to a front pocket where, if you know me, I usually keep my hand. But apparently I removed my hand from the pocket long enough to carry a few beers through the crowded bar, and, in my concentration not to spill the beverages, failed to notice the wallet lift itself out of the pocket. Fortunately I had just purchased a round of beer, and, also fortunately, I had enough loose change in my other pocket to cover the bota home.There wasn’t much in the wallet aside from my VSO ID, the atm card for my Ugandan bank account, and enough cash to have purchased maybe another round of beer. So not a huge loss. But, given the vagaries of the Ugandan banking bureaucracy, a whole new world of hassle.Naturally you have to go to the bank. No phone-in cancellations of your card. Then, at the bank you have to write them a letter telling them how you carelessly lost the bank’s property and begging them to forgive you and block the future use of the card. But in order to get them to actually cancel the card and issue you a new one, you have to go to the police station, file a police report, and bring a copy of the report back to the bank. You try to reason with thenice lady at the desk. What difference is a note from the police going to make in this whole process? And the nice lady says, ‘try and look at it from the bank’s perspective, if we didn’t make you get a letter from the police, then anyone could just get a replacement card anytime.’ It ishard to argue with logic like that.So you make your way to the nearest police station—nearest to your house (at the bottom of the hill in Kabalagala). As you enter the station you see several dozen men milling about. The only activity you can detect is two men supervising a shirtless young man who appears to be mopping the muddy cement floor of the police station with his shirt.You brace yourself for what could be a long session and ask where the queue starts—only to find that they are all police officers and ready to help you. But really you should have gone to the police station nearest the Iguana. But after a little whinging and hand-ringing, the nice police officer agrees to take the police report even though it really really isn’t his job. Provided you are willing to ‘facilitate him a little something.’So 15000 shillings later he hands you the form for a police report. You reach for your pen and he says no.‘Photocopy.’ He directs you to the shop across the street with the sign ‘Fotcopi’ and tells you to make 10 copies. Ten? Yes, ten. And 5000 shillings and another 30 minutes later you return with the 10 copies. Of which he takes two and painstakingly staples them together over a piece ofwell-used carbon paper that he unfolds out of his jacket pocket. And then he proceeds to ask you a host of seemingly irrelevant questions (what is VSO, how much do they pay you as a volunteer, what do you think of Arsenal’s chance at the premiership?) while carefully printing your name on the form.‘What did the man look like who stole your wallet?’ You try to explain that if you had been paying enough attention to see who took your wallet, you probably wouldn’t have to be having this discussion… But finally he gets to the bottom of the form and signs it. You sign it. He takes it over to another officer who signs it and stamps it. He carefully picks the staples apart, retrieves the precious piece of carbon paper, hands you your copy and shakes your hand. You have a little trouble understanding what he is saying, but the jist of it sounds like he is thanking you for losing your wallet and making a Ugandan child’s Christmas a little brighter.And you take your copy of the police report back to the bank. And the nice lady at the bank tells you they only make the replacement cards on Tuesday.