This article goes out to Local Government minister Balaam Barugahara and the state minister Justine Nameere.
Since your appointment a few weeks ago, your hands-on approach has garnered significant media attention and applause. Your efforts to combat and expose corruption are commendable and worthy of recognition.
I have personally spent over 35 years working in civil engineering. As someone who has executed construction works in various regions of the continent, I have sweated under the Roads Construction Company of Namibia, done private practice and eaten the dust of most districts in Uganda; so, when I speak, I speak from the scars.
For the record, let me take you through the Mbale and Karamoja sub-regions. This is not just a theory; it represents real-life experiences involving blood and diesel.
BUDUDA, WHERE ROADS DIE YOUNG
Bududa and all mountainous areas sit on volcanic soils. Beautiful to farm but deadly to build on. These soils are prone to landslides. They swell when wet. They crack when dry. If you ask a contractor to build a gravel road there, know this: you cannot get murram from that mountain.
You have to haul it from downhill from places 40 km-60 km away, from places such as Magodesi, Nakaloke, or Busajjabwankuba. Therefore, spending Shs 300m to construct a gravel road in that area is insignificant. It is an insult to physics.
It depends on thickness. Anything below a 200mm subbase or base is just a temporary solution. This situation is similar to applying makeup on a fracture, as often, the road deteriorates during the first rainy season.
That is how precarious the situation is in those sub-regions. Amidst all these challenges, local contractors need support in form of contracts. They will take the job. They will sign. Deep down they always know it is just food for survival.
So, contractors take the money, do what they can, and pray for the rain delays. When it fails, they are called thieves. But wait; they were sent to war with a stick! Personally, my company constructed the Bubulo–Lwakhakha road in 1999.
Getting murram was a nightmare because we had to climb, search, and haul it. We needed a grader, a water bowser, a vibratory compactor, and tippers. The cost of running that fleet for one day was not less than Shs 12 million.
That involved fuel, operators, maintenance, and mobilization, among others. This amount does not include the cost of purchasing a single trip of murram. Do the math and spare the contractor. In the construction business, if your bill of quantities (BOQs) accrues to Shs 300m for a 5km stretch, just know you are not budgeting; you are burying people.
KARAMOJA: THE LAND THAT EATS ROADS
Meanwhile, it is a known fact that the Karamoja sub-region is a problem for contractors in getting murram. I worked on the Nadunget–Akisim road in 2000. Proper murram? We hauled it from Katakwi or from the land of the Tepesi around Mountain Moroto.
Most contractors don’t know the truth until rain washes out your road and headwalls. They approach the design like it is Kampala. One storm and your Shs 800m project becomes a fish habitat. You can’t fight nature with ignorance.
HERE IS THE CONDEMNATION
In all this, I mean that you can’t audit corruption without auditing the BoQs. You cannot imprison a contractor for failing to complete Shs 500 million worth of work when only Shs 300 million was provided.
That’s not theft. That is state- sponsored failure. The devil is in the specifications. Engineers at districts are writing BoQs to please budgets, not to survey soil. So, the Uganda National Bureau of Standards (UNBS), the Engineers Registration Board (ERB), and the Uganda Institution of Professional Engineers (UIPE) ought to engage the new Local Government ministers to discern the reality.
In all honesty, approving 100mm of murram in Bududa is equivalent to giving the contractor a shovel and instructing him to dig his grave. Therefore, my humble appeal to you, Balaam and Nameere, is that your work is commendable.
But you need to listen to the local contractors. Invite them to participate in discussions. Look through the specifications for the works. Not after the road has failed. Don’t make contractors choose between prison and poverty.
Provide them real numbers and give them a fighting chance. As my oracle of Kifuuta in Kyotera says, ‘Tosindika musajja kulwana na mpologoma ng’omuwadde akati,’ which literally translates to ‘Don’t send a man to fight a lion and provide him with a stick.’
Next week, I am going to unpack for you what it takes to construct buildings at local governments.
The author is an investor, contractor, and football enthusiast.
