Ernestine Mukagihana, a.k.a Mama Calline, is a taxi driver. She drives Remera-Kabuga route, in Kigali’s suburbs. She is the only female driving a commuter taxi on the Kigali city streets. There are of course women who drive but it is almost unheard of to find women joining this kind of work.Mukagihana, 35, recalls the time when her ambition came into existence. “I developed the aspiration of becoming a driver during my childhood. I would always run out of our house waving to vehicles passing,” she recalls. She and her friends used to make sorghum sticks into vehicles. They would line them up and push them along as if they were being driven, Mukagihana remembers.
Ernestine Mukagihana, a.k.a Mama Calline, is a taxi driver. She drives Remera-Kabuga route, in Kigali’s suburbs. She is the only female driving a commuter taxi on the Kigali city streets. There are of course women who drive but it is almost unheard of to find women joining this kind of work.
Mukagihana, 35, recalls the time when her ambition came into existence. "I developed the aspiration of becoming a driver during my childhood. I would always run out of our house waving to vehicles passing,” she recalls. She and her friends used to make sorghum sticks into vehicles. They would line them up and push them along as if they were being driven, Mukagihana remembers.
"My father would even beat me when I come back late from fetching water because I spent most the time making these vehicles with my friends,” she recalls.
Mukagihana is among the drivers in Kigali who are trusted by the traffic police. She has never been caught violating any traffic laws.
As such she stands out against a sea of drivers who collide daily with the police over speeding and disobeying the rules. Her speedometre never exceeds 40 km per hour, Mukagihana explains.
"Speeding and rushing is not the only way to make many tours a day. You may run to get much and loose the little you had,” she reflects philosophically. Those who travel the Remera-Kabuga road are quick to attest Mukagihana’s good driving.
Stephen Gasore, a resident in Kabuga, says he likes riding with Mukagihana taxi because of the confidence her passengers have in her.
"You always find many passengers rushing to go with her,” he says.
Mukagihana’s work has brought her success and respect even from the other drivers. In a world dominated by men, Mukagihana holds her own.
Her male colleagues as they pass shout and joke, but Mukagihana is not fazed, instead she retorts just as loudly and quick wittedly.
"This is an environment that can take long to get used to, especially for women. But later you find it friendly,” said Mukagihana.
For the first three months, Ernestine Mukagihana found it tricky. Every where she went she could hear everywhere the calls – "what’s a woman doing stepping into men’s responsibilities?’
People were unkind, calling her a ‘half male woman’ whenever she pulled into a taxi stand. Every person who met her would go about telling his friends, the driver recalls.
"Many people used to flock to my vehicle to discuss me, asking many questions. Even women would laugh at me.”
It all began when Mukagihana’s husband, also a driver, bought a pick-up truck in 2000. Mukagihana would become unhappy when her husband was sick and no one else could act as bread winner.
Her husband later bought a commuter taxi, since his profession is also driver. Mukagihana suggested that she also take up driving. Her husband agreed.
"I was excited and happy to hear my husband allowing me to undergo a driving course. I knew this would bring a lot to our family’s welfare,” she remembers.
In 2004, Mukagihana joined a driving school at Amahoro National Stadium in Remera, a Kigali city suburb. The course lasted one month.
Mukagihana joined students two weeks before they were to sit exams and so she applied to sit with them.
"I felt I had acquired a lot of knowledge in a few days while at school and wanted to test my self by sitting for the exams early, and my teachers accepted,” she says.
Unfortunately, the results were released and Mukagihana’s name did not appear on the list of those who had passed. Mukagihana did not give up. She completed the one-month course and in July 2004 she sat the exams and passed.
"I was so happy and my husband encouraged me to keep going and get a driving permit.”
"During my revision, I would even lock myself inside the bedroom so that my children could not disturb me.”
Towards the end of 2004, Mukagihana secured a driving permit with ‘B category’ which is only licensed to small vehicles that carry no more than five passengers.
She worked as a special hire driver for seven months, but the work she was unproductive and she decided to go back to school. She tried five times and failed.
"Friends of mine assured me that a career in driving was not for me, and I should leave it completely. The only thing that helped me regain confidence was my husband who kept on encouraging me to go back and redo the exams,” she says.
Mukagihana would not give up. Finally, with the sixth time of trying, she achieved ‘D category’.
"My husband played a vibrant role in my achievement. It is rare in Rwandan society where men deny their wives from acting in some fields,” she says.
Her husband who also drives a commuter taxi on the same route says he was impressed to see his wife acquiring a driving license.
Each day they leave home together after their children have gone to school. Mukagihana says there is need to sensitise Rwandan women against the view that women’s work stops in the kitchen, looking after children and dressing their husbands’ beds.
There are advantages to having two bread winners in the family. Mukagihana explains how her husband recently caught cerebral malaria.
That she was able to continue working meant that the family’s income was not threatened – essential when you have seven children to look after!
"These are some of positive effects resulting from my husband’s good mentality that allowed me reach this stage” she says.
What’s more Mukagihana now believes that her dream of going back to studying, which was precluded by the Genocide, could become a reality.
Ends