Shakedown

I was taking a rather lame picture of the old Kampala railway station when a man tapped me on the shoulder. “Excuse me sir, do you have permission to take that photograph?” What do you mean, I protested, this is a public place and I had just taken photos of the Parliament and other surely more sensitive buildings. “How would you feel if I came into your home and started taking photos everywhere without your permission?” he responded sternly. We argued for a while, and then he produced an ID claiming that he was a “POLICE OFFICER.” His ID reminded me of a 19-year old trying to get into an American bar. He was dressed in plain clothes.

He insisted that I come with him to “chat” with his superior. I decided to call his bluff and abruptly turned around and walked away. He did not follow, and only plaintively yelled out “Er, ok, ask permission next time!”

I was left a little angry and discouraged after so many friendly encounters with locals. But when I told my roommates, who have been here for a year, and even some locals, they only said “Get used to it. Welcome to Uganda!”