What Almost Dying on a Boda Taught Me About Tomorrow

It still feels like it happened yesterday. I had just left home for a prayer meeting in Kisaasi with Pastor Obed. We even talked about how we’re all empty-headed about the future. News had broken out that day that 60 people had died in an accident. Those folks certainly didn’t see that coming. Did they?

My journey to Kisaasi involved the Northern Bypass on a boda. If you’ve never experienced that, imagine you’re a fat nsenene being chased by a pack of wild Baganda. My heart was almost jumping out. I prayed without ceasing, and thankfully, got there safely. But it was not over yet!

The Ride That Killed Me (Almost)

After the meeting, I had to rush to Makerere University for a Bible study. So I stand by the roadside and see this guy on one of those flashy bodas. You know those new bodas in town? People say, bad choices make good stories, and I was about to prove them right. The guy had no helmet, but I ignored this red flag. I’d survived these types before. What could possibly go wrong?

I jumped on. Almost immediately, the guy decided he was auditioning for Fast & Furious: Kampala Edition. He was flying. I tried pulling the brakes on him: “Please slow down. Please. Slow. Down.” He’d pretend to listen for a second, and then jump back to supersonic speed. I knew I was in danger, but I shrugged it off. This wasn’t a long journey. What’s the worst that could happen?

As the African proverb warns, the pot breaks at the door. So, we hit the T-Junction at the Ministry of Public Service, a mere ten-minute walk from the University, when a rogue boda guy (high on who-knows-what) came at us from the wrong direction. Now because my guy was a wannabe speed demon, he could not respond well. And in the chaos, I hugged the tarmac.

Time didn’t slow down. I think it just gave up and left. I didn’t faint, but my eddie-mutwe definitely took an unscheduled break. All I knew was that I was no longer a passenger.

In my hand, I was clutching a bottle of Nivana water. As I slid, this humble piece of plastic became my personal airbag. It created just enough space between me and the tarmac, reducing the amount of damage that could otherwise have resulted.

Behind me was a horde of twenty to twenty-five bodas. How they avoided turning me into their rugby ball is a miracle I cannot explain. This chaotic pack of bodas became my unlikely shield from the convoy of cars that followed from behind. There was hooting, shouting and confusion. I was left with these injuries but my body was too shocked to feel any pain.

Life is More Fragile Than You Think

Then followed the blame. The boda guys, in their familiar display of solidarity, decided the problem was me. I wasn’t mad. Just disappointed. I didn’t want to answer back. I blurted out a word or two and concluded, I should go home.

My injuries were minor, no broken bones. And in a sad twist of irony, the original boda guy offered to take me home. I looked at him and told him, “No, boss. You’re not taking me anywhere!” It felt like he wanted to finish the job. I got another boda and finally got home.

I could have easily kicked the bucket! I’d always known life was brief, but this time, I kissed death. I felt it’s machete brushing against my neck. I was about to leave my beloved wife widowed and my son orphaned.

I had plans that day. A Bible study that I had to cancel. The students even visited, and I’m grateful for their kindness. We had an evangelistic outreach planned for campus the following week. It too was cancelled. But what if it had been worse? What if I had to be tied to a bed for months with a leg hanging in the air? My carefully filled calendar would have been wiped out in a blink.

The Sin of Presumption

We are all guilty. I remember as we were getting married, a guy asked us about family planning. He assumed we were going to have children. The question was: how many? He thought we were in the driver’s seat. So many couples ask the same question without ever stopping to consider “what if we never have any?”

Rewind back to those sixty people who died. They had plans. Trips to see muzei in the village, business meetings, and vacations. Did any of them ever wake up thinking, “This is my last day”? I highly doubt.

Last Saturday, we had a couple coming over to visit us. The husband lost his job two weeks into their marriage. I lost mine a month later. And yet, so many young people delay marriage, saying, “Let me get stable first.” They don’t realize that stability is not in our hands.

I’ve seen Sudanese refugees at Makerere University. Many probably came from rich families. But war reduces everything to rubble. This has taught me not to take our peace for granted. It could be war tomorrow morning.

There is this guy, Ray Comfort. And he has said, we think about death in terms of other people. Because every time someone died, it was someone else, and not us. But everyone’s turn eventually comes.

Scripture’s Lesson on Tomorrow

Now, all this talk is not just my personal opinion. James says:

Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go to this city and do business and make a profit.’ You don’t even know what will happen tomorrow! Your life is a mist. You appear for a little while and then you vanish. Instead, you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.’ But now you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil. (James 4:13-16)

Proverbs 19:21 adds: “Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the LORD that will stand.” You may make many plans thinking you’re the writer of your own story, but God actually holds the veto.

This isn’t negativity. It’s realism. The Bible isn’t against planning. It tells the sluggard to learn from the ant who “without chief officer, or ruler… prepares her bread in the summer and gathers her food in harvest” (Proverbs 6:6-8). It expects a king to count his troops before battle, and the builder to lay down a budget (Luke 14:28-32). The problem isn’t planning. It’s planning as though God is irrelevant.

Psalm 127 puts it this way:

Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain.

You could work yourself up into a frenzy, but without God, it’s sheer madness.

Planning with an *Asterisk: God Willing

Biblical planning is planning with an *asterisk. It’s when you say, “I plan to do A, B, and C, God willing.” It’s praying, “Not my will, but yours be done.” It’s handing over our plans to the one who owns the ball, recognizing that without him, there’s no football to play.

Presumption, on the other hand, says, “This is what I want, and it will happen, kama mbaya mbaya.” Some call that faith. Others call it determination. But Scripture calls it arrogance. You ought to recognize who’s actually in control.

This accident nailed God’s sovereignty deep into my skin. It has made me even more thankful, realizing that every single day is a gift from God. I pray to live long, to see my children grow up and my children’s children. But I know who is in charge. And no, it ain’t me.

I told my wife, “I am immortal until God decides otherwise.” While God wants me alive, nothing can kill me. And when he wants me dead, nothing will be able to keep me alive, either. For the believer, all things, even boda accidents, work together for good. It doesn’t mean bad things won’t happen. It means you’ll get the last laugh.

So here is the question. Have you been living a life of presumption, making plans as though God was your errand boy? Now is the time to bow your head and tell him, “Lord, be exalted above my plans, my choices, and my ambitions. I’m committing everything to you.” Start right there.