When it comes to queues, Ugandans are like a herd of goats that seem to think lines are objects of illusion.
I have never been in a queue that has been respected. As a consequence, every time I join a queue, I start to have anxiety attacks on the spot. Because I KNOW that in no time, some stupid goat is going to try to cut in front.
One day, when I was lining up to enter the Kampala Street Festival, it was two goats.
I and my friend Mary (not real name) lined up like good citizens, and waited for security to check us. After not more than five minutes, two young girls came and stood in front of me, pushed their way in and made themselves comfortable.
Mary tapped one girl on the shoulder and I tapped another.
“Excuse us!” we asked. “Are we invisible?”
The taller girl could sense trouble straight away. She apologized and moved out and stood behind Mary where some other fool allowed her to cut in. The second girl ignored us and remained in front of me.
Sister! Have you met Lindsey?
I grabbed her by the upper arm and violently hauled her out. She struggled to find her balance not to fall.
“What’s your problem?” she snapped. “Do you have to be so rough?”
Mary and I almost fell all over ourselves ‘giving it’ to her-“Our problem is you’re a stupid ill bred nitwit and you need to respect the line and leave our places alone. Idiotl!”
She retreated behind Mary and we spent the remainder of our time in the queue hurling colorful insults at each other.