Those who have been reading my newsletter for many years may recall accounts of cross-country journeys in a variety of dodgy vehicles. Taking the long view, it has to be said that the overall situation is improving. Nevertheless, the path of progress is not smooth and has been found to have twists and turns in it.
When we first arrived in Chad back in the 80s the main way for the general public to get across the country was seated on top of huge articulated lorries. These lorries were stacked high with goods first and then the passengers had to scramble up to the summit and sit tight. Forty or fifty people could be seen perched aloft, including whole families, grinding their way across the country. The roads, so called, were rough and rutted. The vehicles not only bumped violently but swayed from side to side. It was not unknown for them to turn over. A cross-country trip could easily take a week. “How did people manage not to fall off?” I hear you cry. Well, let’s just say that I know at least two people that sustained lasting injuries from falling off trucks on the N’Djamena road.
In the 90s, with the roads no better, an alternative mode of transport became popular with those ready to pay a bit more. This was the Toyota Land cruiser, which packed 12 in the back. These vehicles consistently made the trip in around 24hours, which had to be an improvement. Hard on the heels of the Land cruiser, came what became known as the “Abéché bus”. Powerful trucks were fitted with a substantial bus compartment on the back, overcoming the demanding terrain with sheer power. They had numbered seats- what a luxury of decency and order! – and consistently made the trip in under 24 hours, The ceiling was high, there was overhead baggage space, windows you could open and close and even curtains. The roofs were designed to hold baggage and merchandise and from the original one or two busses, a fleet of over 30 has grown, the bench mark in quality for the mass market.
Then progress came in another area. With the new oil wealth coming into the country and probably with some investment from China, an extensive road building campaign has been unleashed. The paved road extends further than it ever has before. The dirt road is kept in better order than before. Bridges have been constructed where there had previously been none. Greater speed became possible, with less bumps and judders. This is where the story takes an unexpected side turn. The better quality roads opened up way for the infamous minibus. You take a tough little vehicle intended to take, say 10 passengers. You strip out all the original seats and put in iron benches with thin cushions and you can pack in 16. You pack in four rows of three and it looks full. Then you squeeze a fourth person into each row. With a caste iron roof rack the baggage and other goods can be stowed on the roof. These inhuman contraptions can now compete with the busses for the big routes and have already taken over the less popular ones. They are more economic. They are quick, efficient but several steps backwards when it comes to comfort on the road.
I made two trips by wretched minibus. For the first one, I paid the extra to get one of the two precious front seats by the driver (seating for two but leg-room for one). However, some hours after I paid it became apparent that my bus had insufficient passengers and I was unceremoniously transferred to another that was almost full. They refunded the difference in ticket price, but being the fourth person on the end of a bench is no one’s first choice. Neither my seat nor the one in front of it had a back to it. This is was to allow people to climb over it. I was concerned about the lack of support. I need not have worried. We were packed too tight to be rocked about. On the return trip, I secured the very best front seat by booking three days in advance. This gave me the luxury of always being the last person to get in. As I went to take up my coveted position for the first time, I glanced into the dark interior and felt a pang of irrational guilt. How wretched and anxious they all looked, as they set with grim composure, ready for the off. Oh, for a proper bus!.
The Curse of the Minibus
Those who have been reading this newsletter for many years may recall accounts of cross country journeys in a variety of dodgy vehicles. Taking the long view, it has to be said that the overall situation is improving. Nevertheless, the path of progress is not smooth and has been found to have twists and turns in it.
When we first arrived in Chad back in the 80s the main way for the general public to get across the country was seated on top of huge articulated lorries. These lorries were stacked high with goods first and then the passengers had to scramble up to the summit and sit tight. Forty or fifty people could be seen perched aloft, including whole families, grinding their way across the country. The roads, so called, were rough and rutted. The vehicles not only bumped violently but swayed from side to side. It was not unknown for them to turn over. A cross-country trip could easily take a week. “How did people manage not to fall off?” I hear you cry. Well, let’s just say that I know at least two people that sustained lasting injuries from falling off trucks on the N’Djamena road.
In the 90s, with the roads no better, an alternative mode of transport became popular with those ready to pay a bit more. This was the Toyota Land cruiser, which packed 12 in the back. These vehicles consistently made the trip in around 24hours, which had to be an improvement. Hard on the heels of the Land cruiser, came what became known as the “Abéché bus”. Powerful trucks were fitted with a substantial bus compartment on the back, overcoming the demanding terrain with sheer power. They had numbered seats- what a luxury of decency and order! – and consistently made the trip in under 24 hours, The ceiling was high, there was overhead baggage space, windows you could open and close and even curtains. The roofs were designed to hold baggage and merchandise and from the original one or two busses, a fleet of over 30 has grown, the bench mark in quality for the mass market.
Then progress came in another area. With the new oil wealth coming into the country and probably with some investment from China, an extensive road building campaign has been unleashed. The paved road extends further than it ever has before. The dirt road is kept in better order than before. Bridges have been constructed where there had previously been none. Greater speed became possible, with less bumps and judders. This is where the story takes an unexpected side turn. The better quality roads opened up way for the infamous minibus. You take a tough little vehicle intended to take, say 10 passengers. You strip out all the original seats and put in iron benches with thin cushions and you can pack in 16. You pack in four rows of three and it looks full. Then you squeeze a fourth person into each row. With a caste iron roof rack the baggage and other goods can be stowed on the roof. These inhuman contraptions can now compete with the busses for the big routes and have already taken over the less popular ones. They are more economic. They are quick, efficient but several steps backwards when it comes to comfort on the road.
I made two trips by wretched minibus. For the first one, I paid the extra to get one of the two precious front seats by the driver (seating for two but leg-room for one). However, some hours after I paid it became apparent that my bus had insufficient passengers and I was unceremoniously transferred to another that was almost full. They refunded the difference in ticket price, but being the fourth person on the end of a bench is no one’s first choice. Neither my seat nor the one in front of it had a back to it. This is was to allow people to climb over it. I was concerned about the lack of support. I need not have worried. We were packed too tight to be rocked about. On the return trip, I secured the very best front seat by booking three days in advance. This gave me the luxury of always being the last person to get in. As I went to take up my coveted position for the first time, I glanced into the dark interior and felt a pang of irrational guilt. How wretched and anxious they all looked, as they set with grim composure, ready for the off. Oh, for a proper bus!.
