Tribute to a creative woman who touched Uganda, boda accident victim Allison 'Leli' Malacara.

Boda crash victim Allison 'Leli' Malacara. Photo: Twitter.

Allison 'Leli' Malacara seemed to be a lot like me. She seemed to be a lot like many of my friends in Kampala. In fact she knew several of them, and many more acquaintances. It is likely that in time, had the 30-year-old American-Mexican not been tragically killed in a boda accident just over two weeks ago, that our paths would have crossed, Kampala being the 'village' and expat goldfish bowl that it is. But of course Leli, a stylist and designer who had called Kampala home for the past three years, had so many Ugandan friends too. As one said last week, "everyone loved her...She was one of a kind."

For someone I never met, I have spent a lot of time thinking about Allison since her death. Her passing has affected me but it's also impacted on many others in Uganda, both friends but some of them also strangers. Of course it shouldn't be forgotten that the majority of the country's road accident victims are Ugandans. But Allison's death has hit home quite hard because of the apparent similarities between herself and my friends and I. 

Born in Escondido, San Diego, Allison grew up in Comanva, Mexico. She graduated with a BA from California's Fashion Institute of Design & Merchandising, later returning to school to study Social Sociology. 

She fell in love with the 'Pearl of Africa', Uganda, after arriving three years ago. In her Twitter profile Allison describes herself as a “Fashion Designer, lover of Paint” in Mexico & on this continent. “One day I will come home,” she says, these words even more poignant to read now that she never will.

During her time here Allison brought her creativity to local labels including Fenon Records, African Woman magazine, Brand Vision, Tamar Michal, Leone island and Baboon Forest.  Having previously been an assistant for the Los Angeles-based Society for Rational Dress, in Africa she worked for prominent Ugandan fashion designer and African Woman publisher Sylvia Owori. Her friend and colleague Annet Mbabazi, the former editor of African Woman, who Allison spoke to only a few days before her death, says she was "so excited about life and all the new things she was getting up to" including working on the shooting of a new music video, working on a magazine launch and teaching children dance.

African Woman magazine was just one of the Ugandan brands that Allison worked for during her time here. Photo: Facebook.

"When she set her mind to something, Allison would stay up till the wee hours just to complete the task," Annet told me.

"She really was (creative), it came so naturally to her.

"She was really kind too and very giving and above all hard working...It (her death) still doesn't feel real."

Uganda's Fenon Records, who Allison worked for, updated their Facebook cover photo with this image after hearing of her death.

Allison, who spoke English, Spanish and  Russian, was also the first co-ordinator for Invisible Children's MEND programme which I coincidentally visited this week in Gulu, northern Uganda. The social enterprise aims to improve the quality of life for women directly affected by the LRA conflict by producing quality handbags and providing training in tailoring, finance, and personal development. Invisible Children co-founder Jolly Okot, the first Ugandan woman to be nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize, told me she was devastated after hearing the news about Allison. Invisible Children said it was with "heavy hearts we say goodbye to our friend".

Someone who didn't know Allison that well but was still touched by her was Artha Wasswa. The pair met in Kampala nightspot Club Rouge in 2010. Artha describes her as a "loving, charismatic soul".

"She was curious about everything and she loved detail," Artha says.

It was 3am on a Saturday night, a few weeks after their introduction, when Artha and Allison bumped into each other in Nakumatt supermarket buying drinks.

"I went over to say hello and she hugged me tightly and said, 'Sharp suit man. Too bad I don't have my camera.'

"She was (always) the star of the night. Everyone loved her. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind and she always had a smile on her face."

Besides fashion, Allison was a music fan who loved Radiohead and Death Cab For Cutie.

According to her friends she didn't take bodas that much and has posted on a social media website before her death that she had a meeting to rush to.

Always the star of the night, according to friend Artha Wasswa. Photo: Facebook.

The crash which claimed her life occurred on Thursday May 3 about 2.50pm near the Ndere Cultural Centre at Kisaasi. It hasn't been lost on me that this was very close to where I had my own boda accident, but I will touch on that on Bodaboda Baby later.

According to Patrick, who spoke to a witness, the boda driving Allison, George William Kisembo, died immediately after a truck hit his bike. George was believed to be a father of four who was married.

“They were hit from the side as she got off the boda. Her head hit against a metal railing on the road side," said Patrick, speaking just hours after the accident.

"(The) boda guy flew off and landed head first," 

"He died instantly.

"She (Allison) was rushed to Mulago (Hospital) and died three hours later. 

"The American Embassy notified her parents. Her brother called one of my pals a little while ago...so devastated.”

Two days after her death Allison's friends gathered at Fas Fas to remember her. 

Artha said there was a crowd of about 70 and the atmosphere was "amazing".

"They had a projector, people spoke about their moments with her and there was a bonfire. It  was quite a crowd," he said.

Although Allison did not have life insurance, a Pay Pal campaign raised enough money to have her repatriated to the US within about 24 hours, with a large number of friends from Uganda contributing, such was her popularity here. It's believed her funeral was held last week.

I have spent some time since Allison's death thinking of her poor family. It's believed she was very close to her sister, described as her "soulmate". I suppose they have, for what it's worth, the consolation that she was doing what she loved in a place that made her happy.

I wish I had met Allison. I'd like to think we would have gotten along, and that she would have been a fan of this blog. As Annet says, she was a "street girl", and a fan of street style.

"She loved the easy, laidback style of Ugandans," the former editor says.

"She loved fashion here and the idea of it and Ugandan materials and cloth that she liked to work with. Some of the designs she did were inspired by that."

According to Pete Nyeko, a friend of mine who also knew Allison, there is talk of trying to run a safety campaign to highlight awareness of road safety in light of her death. Just a week before her death US Peace Corp Daniella Gucci was killed after a vehicle rammed into her in Gulu. Her friend was critically injured.

A safety campaign is perhaps a good idea. According to the Uganda Police Traffic Department, over 2,000 people are killed each year on the country's roads. In terms of all fatalities and injuries, 42 per cent are passengers, 33 per cent are pedestrians, and 14 per cent are motorcyclists or cyclists. 

But in the meantime we will mourn Allison and remember her as someone who, like many of us as both mzungus and Africans, gave a slice of her life to Uganda and was loved so much by it in return.  

WINNING. The boda who had a bet with yours truly over a helmet - and ended up with a "contract".

What a little cutie.

Following my two boda accidents and the sad news about Allison Malacara (I'll hopefully have a tribute post to her up soon), it's time to rewrite my boda rules. Number one (this will really get me in the good books with Mum): no helmet, no boda. Yes, of course it's BYO helmet for the author of this blog. In fact I just walked back home from Cafe Kawa Muyenga in the dark, rather than go less than a kilometre down the road without a helmet on as I didn't take it with me. But from this day onwards Bodaboda Baby will not (not) continue to keep drivers who do not wear protective headgear in business and on the road. She does not care how late she is, either.

A brief explanation for this: 1. The selfish reason - buying, maintaining and wearing a helmet (ON YOUR HEAD, AS OPPOSED TO THE FRONT OF YOUR BIKE WEARING IT) demonstrates that you value your life. Not buying, not maintaining and not wearing a helmet shows you do not value your life. If you do not value your life you are not going to value the life of your passenger. Simple.

2. Yours truly refuses to be implicit in the death of someone on the road, a driver who has been transporting her. Someone who likely has a family and friends and had the potential to make a contribution to Ugandan society.

So no helmet = no boda. That's it. And the author of this blog will not be afraid to tell drivers (even at the risk of sounding like her mother, and that's a great risk, JOKE) upfront that she will not swing even one leg over their bike until they put a helmet on, which is what she told Ali, 25, when he stopped for her out the front of Prunes this afternoon.

Ali, as he confessed to Bodaboda Baby, is a rider of two years originally from Kabale who was given a helmet when he purchased his bike in Kampala. Unfortunately, he lost it. Let us not hold that against him. The author of this blog would lose her own head if it wasn't screwed on. She actually lost a couple of her own helmets last year. So she is not one to judge on this occasion.

But - and here's the nub - Ali (by the way isn't he cute? If only he were a few years younger...) did not go and purchase another helmet. Actually, I'll let him off, again. Bodaboda Baby will confess that there was a period of a few months last year after she lost a helmet where she did not replace hers. It was only after bumping into a friend out the front of Garden City, who'd just had a boda accident and had been to buy a helmet, that she decided to take action. Again, let he/she who is without sin cast the first stone etc etc

After recent events, however, yours truly no longer gives a used lipstick about messing up her blow dry by wearing a hard hat, and she now has zero tolerance to drivers who don't share her views. This afternoon though Ali, who spent a month in hospital last June after a car knocked him off his bike, was given a second chance after the author of this blog all but gave him a "contract" to chauffeur her around Kampala when he went across town and bought a new helmet, especially for her. (She use the term "contract", although most boda drivers she's heard use the phrase have done so loosely. It seems that to most "contract" means being a regular driver, not actually having something in writing).

Proudly showing off the new armour.

Yours truly, sporting a short black and white polka dot dress, had simply refused earlier to get on his bike, ordering him to go and buy helmet as a matter of priority if he wants to be her boda man. To her shock, he said he would do just that. 

BB gave him a week. She nearly fell down a pothole when Ali rang her, about 30 minutes later, to tell her he was on his way to Acacia Avenue, where she now was (just guess what she was doing?)  and that he had new armor. Wow, the Gestapo-like tactics she picked up from her mother must have really worked (JOKE).

"I'm happy (I bought the helmet)," said her new taxi, who swore black and blue he purchased (not stole or borrowed from a mate) the electric blue number from downtown. Considering how shiny it looks, Bodaboda Baby will give him the benefit of doubt. Sharp colour.

Ali said he earns between 50,000 ($19.56) on an average day.

"If I can get (more) money, I can start a business, like a shop (in the future)," he said.

With Bodaboda Baby now on his books, anything is possible. Ali, in fact, even told the author of this blog, only an hour or so after meeting her, that he might go to "America, where you're from".

"That is very good news indeed," she said, thinking well at least he didn't say Austria. 

He's so keen that he also rang her, only an hour ago, to ask "where are we going tomorrow?"

She didn't have the heart to tell him about the song called If Tomorrow Never Comes, which was only released for occasions like this. Just kidding.

The moral of the story, boys: Have a bet. Buy a helmet. You might be surprised what happens.

Geez it's a hard life.

In other news, Bodaboda Baby can't help but see a remarkable similarity in attitude between one of her regular drivers, Mike, owner of that one glove, pictured here after taking her to Bugolobi last week, and Uganda's President M7, photographed in very deep thought at the London Conference on Somalia. Do you see what she's getting at?

Until next time.

You say...one glove, one life... The latest trend in handwear for bodas.

My regular Garden City boda, Mike.

Bodaboda Baby hates to allude to Bono's music in one of her posts, especially in Africa of all places, but when Mike, one of her regular Garden City bodas, picked her up on Saturday afternoon to take her to Pope Paul VI Memorial Hotel for the national chess championships he was wearing one glove. One glove, only.

Yes it seems the one-handed look, a move which could perhaps be described as Wacko Jacko meets Helena Bonham Carter, is the latest trend for boda riders although it's driven (no pun intended) by supply over style, and not the other way around. 

The chess championships at the Pope Paul VI Memorial Hotel on the weekend.

"It's (for) protecting my hand," explains the softly-spoken Mike, speaking about his recent purchase to yours truly at The Coffee Bar, a new cafe in Bugolobi which includes the mysterious "muphins" on the menu.

"Actually it is my friend who told me to buy it. He said you have to go downtown and look for it. Others have (one), others don't. It's a nice glove. I feel so comfortable." 

There it is...Close-up shot of THE glove.

Of course Mike had initially been on the hunt for his one glove's partner. But when he turned up at Owino market a seller told him he was dreaming.

"It was one on its own because they come in secondhand from somewhere (maybe England). So I bought it for 10,000 shillings ($3.86 USD). I'd like to get a pair," the rider says.

 Proving that boda drivers can also do maths, Mike adds: "I'm going back on Saturday and I'm going to look for two, so it will be 20k ($7.72)." 

Mike was sporting a shirt from the International Green Field Championships, which he also purchased at Owino.

As for his oversized 60s style sunnies, well the author of this blog would love to think this was definitely a case of style over necessity, but no. At least Mike is aware of the harsh realities of his job, and he does appreciate nice things.

"(They're) for protecting all my eyes (ed - how many does he have?) so I'm not getting any dust in and even the fashion is not bad," Mike says.

But it's actually his two tone blue shirt (see below) that he's most proud of.

The ear stud.

"The shirt was 8,000, that's not bad. Not ten, eight," emphasises Mike, who also wears one ear stud (just one), on his right ear.

"I like the colour. For week days I put on blue and for for weekends white."

As my mother would ask, how on earth does he keep them clean???

So proud of his one glove.

But even prouder of this shirt, his fave.

As for work, well it appears that being a motorbike taxi in Kampala may still be better than digging ditches (although we're yet to have this confirmed).

"The boda job is not bad," admits Mike, who earns about 50k on an average day but must pay 15k to the man he rents his bike from. 

The complete outfit.

"With bodaboda you can get some little money. I like it, I like my job. I save 10k (a day).

"(But) if it's raining (like today) there are few customers because they're fearing (the wet)."

So in other words boda drivers, make hay while the sun shines. We wish Mike well on his search at Owino for a pair of gloves this Saturday, and hope he won't go home empty-handed (so to speak). Maybe Bodaboda Baby should go with him to look for a Wallabies jersey?

Unsurprisngly, Mike is a bit of a 'mzungu's man' , at least when it comes to customers. The  author of this blog has discovered, through the Bodaboda Baby fan page, that a friend, Mark, is also a  regular client.

This isn't the first time that Bodaboda Baby has discovered only two degrees of separation between herself and a boda. Her former neighbour Dennis, who works at Makerere stage, is also a regular chauffeur to aspiring photographer Dani, who used to live in her old place (although not at the same time as her). The author of this blog has discovered that Dani, with whom she has mutual friends, is also a former regular customer of Julius', another ex driver.

The perennially smiley Dennis. Post on him coming soon.

In fact Dani says of Dennis, "He's a great friend of mine  One of my favorite people in Uganda for sure".

Julius, former chauffeur of yours truly, and Dani.

Dani, who has started the Facebook page Portraits of Kampala, has created a Boda Madness album which include these terrific shots of some very special passengers. There's also a great image of a nail man - the author of this blog loves a good manicure man, and strangely enough one always seems to pop up near her.

Until next time, stay safe on the road.

Oh, thanks also to The Coffee Bar at Bugolobi for sponsoring this post, kind of.

If you look closely, second from the bottom, The Coffee Bar is offering "muphins".

Move over Mr. Tasty. Have you heard of Taste Budz, situated not far from The Coffee Bar?

                                                         

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Experiment: how long does it take to find a Wallabies jersey in Uganda? A trip to Owino market to find out!

Would you buy and wear this in Uganda? Or anywhere?? Please be honest.

If my time in Uganda has taught me anything, it's that when you're least expecting to see something there it will be right in front of your eyes; when you go searching for it you won't find even a trace of it. 

Take, for instance, my hunt for a Wallabies jersey, a little slice of Down Under in the Pearl of Africa. To be honest, I'm not a great rugby fan although will take it over rugby league and when one is away from home one can often start to feel more strongly about supporting one's team. And where else am I ever going to be able to snap up a top for $3.72 AUD? According to some research I've done, back home they retail for $129 (please correct me if you've seen them cheaper). But the many times I've come across a Wallabies jersey roadside, despite marveling at it I've passed it up.

So last Saturday, with my friend Silver Kayondo, I decided to go to Owino markets and do an experiment to see how long it would take me to find a Wallabies jersey. I left empty-handed (well as far as the jersey was concerned).

I'd been certain that I'd find at least one amongst the hundreds of sporting labels on display. Going for gold, in other words. But even though I had Silver with me to help with the search I had no such luck.

Quite fitting that my first boda driver of the day was showcasing the logo for Australian Safari, described as the "TOUGHEST endurance motorsport event in the Asia Pacific Region".

I was so confident that a Wallabies jersey would show up at what is one of Africa's largest outdoor markets, even if it had burnt down recently, that I'd even taken bets on how long it would take for the zealous vendors to unearth me one. Stella Otim estimated half an hour, while Diary of a Mzungu predicted just five minutes. 

My shopping expedition on the day, ironically began and ended with Australian labels, in the first case this Australian Safari  t-shirt above which the boda taking me from Kisimenti to Entebbe Road was wearing. He'd purchased it "DT" (boda speak for downtown), apparently. This had to be an omen. I knew I was going to go home from Owino (via bike, of course) wearing an Australian rugby jersey.

I set out for my trip to Owino on another lovely, sunny day in Kampala.

When Silver and I arrived at Owino at 1342 I explained to a seller exactly what I was looking for by showing him a photo of a Wallabies jersey on my iPhone.

"I'm going to go and look. But if I don't find it I'm going to go with you and search," he promised before dashing off out the back.

We sat down and waited near the hat section. But I was up within seconds, staring in awe at the range of the caps hanging above me. There was every single brand under the sun.

Many Australian cities - Melbourne, Perth (two different types of hats) and, getting more closer to home for the author of Bodaboda Baby, the Gold Coast.

Blue and white check Gold Coast cap.

Melbourne, sitting next to An American Revolution, third from the left on the second row.

If we go a bit closer it's...Perth. Third from the left on the second row, two down from the LA Lakers.

Perth again. Will we see a rise in tourists to WA after this?

I spotted Uncle Tobys, the Aussie breakfast cereal brand, Betta Electrical, Coopers Brewery and low and behold, the ACT Brumbies. This is just to name a few. It was mind boggling. I couldn't keep my head down. 

There's even Uncle Tobys breakfast cereal, third from the left in red, next to Lebanon.

Green and white Coopers Brewery.

"You look like a giraffe," Silver told me at one stage. That night my neck was sore. 

Above Nissan it's...Brumbies.

While we were waiting I decided to buy a South Sydney Rabbitoh's cap for 15,000k - because it wasn't only Russell Crowe's team but more importantly one of Mum's favourites and I could give it to her for her birthday (or, ahem, Mother's Day. Quick, better get to the Post Office!)

And finally, next to the 50th Malibu Open 2004 it's the Rabbitohs.

Silver, after much bargaining, got a 'man bag', down from 65,000k (they know about to charge, some of these Owino sellers) to 25,000. When I asked him his thoughts, later, on the day he replied he felt he was being seen from a "mzungu prism (just because I was with you) and hence the exhorbitant price! I thought that was quite below the belt." And to think that Bodaboda Baby thought she was going to get a bargain because she was at Owino with a Ugandan!!

Just purchased. Silver shows off the 'man bag'.

  

By now it was about 14.00 and there was news on the Australian rugby front. First the bad, broken to me gently: there was no Wallabies jersey to be found.

Then the good: did I want a BIRDMAN XXXX GOLD Australian beach cricket shirt with the? It was similar to the one I'd seen this bloke, below, wearing roadside on a trip to Shanti Uganda.

The first time I spotted a beach cricket shirt in Uganda was when I was on a matatu trip from Kampala to Luweero and we stopped for a quick break. The owner of the shirt kindly obliged when I asked for a photo.

I said, politely, thanks very much but no. Even though I could buy the Gold Coast cap and wear it with the shirt, I had my heart set on a Wallabies jersey and I was sure that one would "turn up somewhere".

He said okay, but did I want to come out the back to check myself and see what else there was?

I agreed and when we got there I was certainly spoilt for choice. There was even this vest from the Beijing 2008 Olympics torch relay, next to a Molson Canadian jumper, up for grabs. Crikey.

Very topical for yours truly, being half-Maple Leaf herself).

But sadly, no Australian rugby kit.

Feeling slightly dejected, Silver and I decided to call it a day and head to the nearby Mr. Tasty. In retrospect, I am actually glad I didn't find the Wallabies jersey there and then, as I've come to realise that I like the thrill of the chase and half the fun with trying to find anything in Uganda is looking and seeing what else you come across in the process.

Also I hadn't been to Mr. Tasty and was quite curious about it, and still am, especially as it's slogan is "the food that makes you go hmmmmm", as a friend Sarah later pointed out. Another friend, Hilary, pointed out do you wonder "hmmmm" as in "hmmm, how long have these chapatis been sitting here for? In hindsight, it may be a good thing that the author of this blog chose only a Coke Zero, although Silver had a kebab which he said was great. I've since found a blog which describes Mr. Tasty as "close enough to KFC". According to Sarah, who has studied this photo hard, it's a "dead chicken..or something similar...like a cat! Hmmmm." Hilary meanwhile identified it as a "kind of funny shape...a squirrel McNugget?"

Mr. Tasty, the food that makes you go hmmmmm. And some more.

On the way home two more unpredictable encounters took place. This first was that we met this lovely woman, below, who appeared to be on her way to a Jubilee party, but running months late, in a stereo shop DT. She kindly obliged when I asked if I could please take her snap. Was she going on Ugandan time or mzungu time, I wonder? Just kidding. Independence? What Independence?? Just kidding. My friend Jennie, she who painted the Union Jack on her toes before she hosted what was Kampala's best Jubilee party last year (pic below) was very disappointed that I'd met this woman nearly eight months later, otherwise she could have joined us for our festivities then.

Love the dress. Only eight months late.

Still late, but do love the bag.

The wonderful Union Jack toe nails, belonging to the lovely Mrs P.

The second surprising encounter - actually now that I'm writing this I think it was fate - is that as I was hailing a boda for my ride back I met this driver below who was wearing this blue hat which had Sydney written on it. I proudly posed next to him sporting my just purchased secondhand Sydney Rabbitohs hat. Unfortunately you can't see the "Sydney" in the photo, but I swear to God/cross my fingers etc that I'm not making this up.

Two Sydney caps come together.

So my experiment to see how long it takes to find a Wallabies jersey continues, but it has begun and concluded (so far) with Australian merchandise.

Too true!

As this exhibition which was part of last year's inaugural Kampala Contemporary Art Festival pointed out, you "never know what will happen next" in Uganda. I wonder what will happen next on my search for my Wallabies jersey?