Because we’re on the “edge” where fancy neighborhood changes to not so fancy, there’s a great deal of moto taxis that travel down the road behind our house due to the fact that most inhabitants of the valley quarter don’t own their own vehicle. In fact, it’s incessant. We hear their put-putting engines and tooting horns at all hours. Whereas in Namibia, most everyone took a car taxi, here most average Rwandans take a moto taxi. There are literally thousands of these guys plying their trade on Kigali streets. They’re identifiable by their numbered reflector vests and typically green helmets. These guys are absolutely fearless. They zip in and out of traffic honking and beeping. They pass in blind curves; they go where no other vehicle will.
The kids have been observing these guys for the past few weeks when we’ve been out and about. The girls especially have been asking if they can take one. Apparently, in their eyes, the exploits of the moto taxi breed appear fun and exciting. In my eyes, such a ride would be froth with myriad dangers essentially from the moto taxi drivers’ lack of judgment to the equally absent judgment of those behind the wheel of the numerous Toyota Four Runners, Rovers, and other SUVs that crowd the roads here. Sorry kids, Mom is not likely to consent to such a ride anytime this century.
Took the above photo with my phone camera, so again the resolution's not that great and it's a bit dark. I'll learn to carry my good camera with me eventually. One can at least get the feel for what these guys do to vehicles, crowding and zipping right in front of the white car ahead of us.
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