It’s been a curious week for luxury car lovers in Uganda—not at a motor show, but on the wrong side of the law.
First, a Toyota Prado TX stunned the nation after it was caught smuggling cows, and now, before we could even process that bovine betrayal, a Mercedes Benz ML350 has followed suit—albeit with more buttons than moo.
The Prado story was already bizarre enough. At 3am on May 14, officers from Nagalama Police Station, likely expecting drunk drivers or expired stickers, found themselves in a hot pursuit of a white TX that refused to stop near Kalagi.
The chase ended in Nakasajja with two suspects shot and arrested—but the real surprise was inside the vehicle: three cows, squashed into the boot like they’d just returned from a rural wedding with no transport refund.
The cows, now in protective custody and hopefully receiving trauma counselling, had been stolen.
Police believe the posh Prado was moonlighting as part of a cattle theft ring. If you ever doubted the term “beast of burden,” let this be your update—Prados are apparently the new livestock lorries.
Fast-forward to May 11—yes, three days before the cows—and eastern Uganda was already experiencing its own vehicular shock.
A Mercedes Benz ML350, the kind of car usually found glowing in Kololo brunch parking lots, was spotted doing decidedly un-brunch things along Namayingo Road.
Uganda Revenue Authority (URA) enforcement officers had received tips about the vehicle’s peculiar activities and, after an all-night operation, pounced in Iganga at 6am.
Instead of jazz music and mimosas, the Benz was carrying 860 button phones—yes, bukapeesa—crammed into its luxurious innards like they’d just escaped from Owino market.
Among the brands recovered were Itel5626, Itel5606, and other dual- and triple-SIM relics of communication’s past.
For reasons yet to be explained, the driver had chosen Mother’s Day to smear the good name of German engineering.
“The vehicle had been flagged for surveillance,” URA confirmed. “We hope it wasn’t a case of ‘mpamu ng’endeko mu kyaalo ku weekend’ gone horribly wrong.”
The law doesn’t laugh, however. Under the East African Community Customs Management Act, the smuggler faces a fine of up to $5,000 (Shs20 million) and possible forfeiture of the prized Benz to the state—a tragic fate for a car that was born to pose, not to peddle phones.
Observers are now left wondering whether Ugandan smuggling rings are in a weird automotive phase.
First cows in a Prado, now phones in a Benz—what’s next, goats in a Range Rover or sugar stuffed in a Tesla?
For now, the authorities are urging the public to be vigilant and report any suspicious activity—even if it involves cars that seem too polished for crime.
Because in today’s Uganda, even a luxury car can have a dark side hustle.