A Taxi Ride In... Freetown, Sierra Leone
Journey time: 40 mins
Distance: 15 kms
Cost: Le25,000 ($5.50)
Driver: Seima Jabbie, nickname Tin Pwell (something is broken)
Language: Krio (rapid English with grammar removed)
Circumstances: Rental vehicle breaks down, now in the poo...
Idea for a new blog today. Inspired by one of the worst taxis I've been in. Sometimes you're involved in a strange unexpected event that ultimately makes you feel good inside. Today was such an occasion.
I'm with a work colleague; Cobra, my Finance Manager. I'm from the UK. I've spent a great deal of time in Africa. After a bad dose of malaria I set-up and co-founded a management consultancy business in Sierra Leone. Now paddling my own canoe. Previously? 14 years largely corporate. I have one other blog. Never intended to begin another. Until today...
We're outside of Freetown. 15 kms southeast of the capital on Peninsular Road. We're looking at land with a view to property development. For a client. We're in Lakka. Atlantic and beaches to our left. Mountains shrouded in low hanging mist to our right. We've hired a Toyota pick-up. Job done. Let's go home.
Problem. Brakes not working. No time to wait for a mechanic or a relief vehicle. Taxi. Let's go. Cobra gets to work. I stay out of the picture. Price will increase. She produces a lump of metal on 4 bald tyres. Hey, beggars cannot be choosers. Well done Cobra.
This lump of metal stinks. It's musty. Half the dashboard is missing. Furry animals hanging everywhere. Front windscreen like a spiders web. Lino around the door seals. Health and safety hazard. Forget that BS. We're in a bind. Only option. Get in. At least the radio works...
Driver is immediately engaging. He's everything that's special about Sierra Leone. His vehicle is a sh*t tip, yet he makes the best of things. Great personality.
I'm the lucky one. I have a seatbelt. Cobra in the back doesn't. She barely has a seat. More of a board. Let's get some air. Forget aircon. Forget electric anything. The winder is not there. No handle. Replaced by a nut welded to a bolt. I fiddle with the nut. Bring it to Siema's attention. Quick as a flash he produces a large screwdriver from his door pocket. He smiles, says 'African handle'. Blog was formed there and then. Put the screwdriver in the bolt and open the window. Feels better.
I'm taken with this driver. Most African taxis normally 'support' an EPL team. From the stickers an Arsenal car. Reflect who in the Arse team this taxi would be? Can be only one. Pers Mertersacker. Covers the ground slowly, a little awkward, but somehow dependable.
Seima is mid 20s. A winning smile. Already made me laugh with the 'African Handle'. He's asking Le15,000 ($3.25). He'd like Le20,000. As we drive off I tour the car and offer Le1,000 bonuses for essentials. Steering wheel. Check. Mirror. Check. My seat belt. Check. Pink giraffe. Check. Wooden dice. Check. Bring total to Le25,000. He's happy. One final caveat. Drive safely, deliver us in one piece.
Having established price we do intros. He tells us his nickname. Tin Pwell (something is broken). Says everyone calls it to him. He replies, "Ar Go Fix Am" (I'll fix it). Has us smiling again.
We've a top speed of around 30 mph. Aided by a tailwind coming off the Atlantic methinks. Beautiful beaches all along this peninsular. Tin Pwell tells us not to worry about things. Says it's about more than the coat. What's inside the coat matters more. This young man is now providing philosphy. African music comes from the tinny speaker. Informs us the car was previously scrapped. He's brought it back to life. Barely.
We think about the same thing at the same time. In UK people of a certain age hook little fingers. In West Africa you hold each others ears (one of them). This wasn't possible, she'd sunk into the bench doubling as the back seat. Same thought - Spur Road. A steep hill to negotiate into Freetown. Could this taxi make it? Seima was confident. Said his taxi only had one real problem. Had me smiling again. Funny, I could think of about 25 immediate faults. The one problem? Apparently overheated a lot. Was it overheating now? He said no, but couldn't be sure, most of the dials didn't work.
Everything is undertaking and overtaking us (this is Africa). Beautiful vistas though. Drive through 'I don't Care' (genuine village) and head towards Goderich. Closing towards Freetown. Nearer to the climb. Into Juba, traffic is light to Lumley roundabout. Here we go...
Sensible by Tin Pwell. Attack in second gear. We move between second and third all the way up. At one point we overtake another crappy taxi with plenty of hooting and hollering coming from our car. Good fun. OK, you had to be there. It felt good...
... in fact, last time I had this much fun in a taxi was London at Christmas. I'd grabbed a traditional black cab for a quick 10 minute hop. Taxi was sideswiped by another car. Took the mirror clean off. The other car sped away into the traffic. Driver asked if I minded if he gave chase. I said go for it. Must say, exciting stuff. Swerving this way and that. All over central London at high speed. Into and out of housing estates. Some hairy moments. After an hour the driver sadly reported he'd lost him. We slowed down. We calmed down. He dropped me at my original destination. Told him I enjoyed the thrill. He said good, that'll be 273 pounds please!
We arrive to Wilberforce. Pay our fare. Seima and the car deserve it. We all shake hands, say our goodbyes. Take a few photos. One at the front, we're overheating. Water running down the hill from the radiator...
Looking forward to further occasional taxi rides around Africa in the coming months...
Journey time: 40 mins
Distance: 15 kms
Cost: Le25,000 ($5.50)
Driver: Seima Jabbie, nickname Tin Pwell (something is broken)
Language: Krio (rapid English with grammar removed)
Circumstances: Rental vehicle breaks down, now in the poo...
Idea for a new blog today. Inspired by one of the worst taxis I've been in. Sometimes you're involved in a strange unexpected event that ultimately makes you feel good inside. Today was such an occasion.
I'm with a work colleague; Cobra, my Finance Manager. I'm from the UK. I've spent a great deal of time in Africa. After a bad dose of malaria I set-up and co-founded a management consultancy business in Sierra Leone. Now paddling my own canoe. Previously? 14 years largely corporate. I have one other blog. Never intended to begin another. Until today...
We're outside of Freetown. 15 kms southeast of the capital on Peninsular Road. We're looking at land with a view to property development. For a client. We're in Lakka. Atlantic and beaches to our left. Mountains shrouded in low hanging mist to our right. We've hired a Toyota pick-up. Job done. Let's go home.
Problem. Brakes not working. No time to wait for a mechanic or a relief vehicle. Taxi. Let's go. Cobra gets to work. I stay out of the picture. Price will increase. She produces a lump of metal on 4 bald tyres. Hey, beggars cannot be choosers. Well done Cobra.
This lump of metal stinks. It's musty. Half the dashboard is missing. Furry animals hanging everywhere. Front windscreen like a spiders web. Lino around the door seals. Health and safety hazard. Forget that BS. We're in a bind. Only option. Get in. At least the radio works...
Driver is immediately engaging. He's everything that's special about Sierra Leone. His vehicle is a sh*t tip, yet he makes the best of things. Great personality.
I'm the lucky one. I have a seatbelt. Cobra in the back doesn't. She barely has a seat. More of a board. Let's get some air. Forget aircon. Forget electric anything. The winder is not there. No handle. Replaced by a nut welded to a bolt. I fiddle with the nut. Bring it to Siema's attention. Quick as a flash he produces a large screwdriver from his door pocket. He smiles, says 'African handle'. Blog was formed there and then. Put the screwdriver in the bolt and open the window. Feels better.
I'm taken with this driver. Most African taxis normally 'support' an EPL team. From the stickers an Arsenal car. Reflect who in the Arse team this taxi would be? Can be only one. Pers Mertersacker. Covers the ground slowly, a little awkward, but somehow dependable.
Seima is mid 20s. A winning smile. Already made me laugh with the 'African Handle'. He's asking Le15,000 ($3.25). He'd like Le20,000. As we drive off I tour the car and offer Le1,000 bonuses for essentials. Steering wheel. Check. Mirror. Check. My seat belt. Check. Pink giraffe. Check. Wooden dice. Check. Bring total to Le25,000. He's happy. One final caveat. Drive safely, deliver us in one piece.
Having established price we do intros. He tells us his nickname. Tin Pwell (something is broken). Says everyone calls it to him. He replies, "Ar Go Fix Am" (I'll fix it). Has us smiling again.
We've a top speed of around 30 mph. Aided by a tailwind coming off the Atlantic methinks. Beautiful beaches all along this peninsular. Tin Pwell tells us not to worry about things. Says it's about more than the coat. What's inside the coat matters more. This young man is now providing philosphy. African music comes from the tinny speaker. Informs us the car was previously scrapped. He's brought it back to life. Barely.
We think about the same thing at the same time. In UK people of a certain age hook little fingers. In West Africa you hold each others ears (one of them). This wasn't possible, she'd sunk into the bench doubling as the back seat. Same thought - Spur Road. A steep hill to negotiate into Freetown. Could this taxi make it? Seima was confident. Said his taxi only had one real problem. Had me smiling again. Funny, I could think of about 25 immediate faults. The one problem? Apparently overheated a lot. Was it overheating now? He said no, but couldn't be sure, most of the dials didn't work.
Everything is undertaking and overtaking us (this is Africa). Beautiful vistas though. Drive through 'I don't Care' (genuine village) and head towards Goderich. Closing towards Freetown. Nearer to the climb. Into Juba, traffic is light to Lumley roundabout. Here we go...
Sensible by Tin Pwell. Attack in second gear. We move between second and third all the way up. At one point we overtake another crappy taxi with plenty of hooting and hollering coming from our car. Good fun. OK, you had to be there. It felt good...
... in fact, last time I had this much fun in a taxi was London at Christmas. I'd grabbed a traditional black cab for a quick 10 minute hop. Taxi was sideswiped by another car. Took the mirror clean off. The other car sped away into the traffic. Driver asked if I minded if he gave chase. I said go for it. Must say, exciting stuff. Swerving this way and that. All over central London at high speed. Into and out of housing estates. Some hairy moments. After an hour the driver sadly reported he'd lost him. We slowed down. We calmed down. He dropped me at my original destination. Told him I enjoyed the thrill. He said good, that'll be 273 pounds please!
We arrive to Wilberforce. Pay our fare. Seima and the car deserve it. We all shake hands, say our goodbyes. Take a few photos. One at the front, we're overheating. Water running down the hill from the radiator...
Seima will never see this blog, a young man with potential, like many in Sierra Leone. Making a living anyway he can. He was fun, bright, and breezy.
Looking forward to further occasional taxi rides around Africa in the coming months...
