Scott's Side Hustle - The Defender

In a developing country like Uganda, it is easy to identify business opportunities. Land development, agriculture, mining and manufacturing are popular investments. On a smaller scale, many invest in arts and crafts, import/export or even “fair trade” or sustainable items to benefit both the investor and producer.

But not Scott. Those would all be far too simple.

Instead, Scott found a new “investment opportunity.” Big, loud, rattling, diesel-fueled 25+ year-old Land Rover Defenders.

Scott is not a car guy. When we met – and for a disconcerting number of years after -- he drove a 1983 Ford Escort station wagon. He has never purchased a new car. He complains about the costs and hassle of everything car-related. He couldn’t care less about color or even model, although he did recently own a convertible. The main questions he asks are, “Will it start up every time I get in?” and “Can I drive it until it falls apart?”

Until now.

Almost immediately after we arrived in Uganda, Scott noticed the handful of pre-1998 Land Rover Defenders on the road. They are less common than you would think and almost all are in incredibly poor condition. This is because Uganda passed a law 5 years ago barring import of any cars more than 2 years old. So pre-2015 cars are becoming rare. Roadworthy cars manufactured in 2000 or earlier, rarer still. And 25-year old aluminum British-made army cars that still run?

Unicorns. Dirty, old, scary, grumpy, expensive unicorns. That should probably just be euthanized, to end their suffering.

Where regular (sane) people would see unreliable, worthless old cars Scott saw an opportunity. If you can find a “vintage” Land Rover (1998 or older) with the original engine, you can export it to the US. Even better, if you can manage to find parts in Uganda, you can rebuild the engine and complete the body work here in Uganda, where labor costs are much lower than in the US then ship it back to the States. This was Scott’s plan.

Just ignore the fact that it is a “right hand drive” which makes (i) drive through windows (ii) parking garage ticket machines, (iii) freeway toll booths and (iv) parallel parking impossible. Plus, it won’t fit in our garage. Even if it does squeeze in, Scott will be disembarking over his tool bench and into the garbage cans.

Undaunted, Scott had an army of people on the lookout for qualifying vehicles. Many were rejected. Too rusty. Modified engine. Non-existent paperwork or untraceable VIN numbers. Given that many Ugandans don’t have a birth certificate, finding a vehicle with all the right paperwork was a challenge.

But last October, Scott received a call. A 1996 Defender 110 about an hour outside Kampala. Patrick, our mechanic, started the negotiations because the moment the seller discovered a “Muzungu” expat was the buyer, the price would skyrocket. So, Patrick was our front man. It reminded me of when Walt Disney created dozens of shell companies to quietly buy up California citrus orchards for his secret project - Disneyland. Except Disneyland is fun and everything there generally operates properly.

Scott dragged me to a house, up a muddy driveway and into a back yard/parking area/salvage lot that I lovingly refer to as the “Defender Morgue.” It was pouring rain. Tucked back in the corner was a sad looking white Defender with a well-worn sticker “Children of Africa” (a German NGO) sticker on the door. A large, loud Ugandan man with no shoes greeted us. He was like a broker. Sort of.

After more than a week of negotiations, Scott had a car. It ran. Barely. The inside smelled like a sock that had been lost for a generation in the boiler room of a WWII battleship. None of the gauges worked. But we pulled out of the muddy yard in a cloud of diesel and the pea-green curtains in the rear of the defender blew festively in the smoggy, humid breeze. Because one of the windows was broken. And we drove straight to the mechanic’s garage.

Then there was a full engine rebuild. Twice.

In late November 2021, the Defender headed off to Sammi’s garage. Sammi is the Kampala Land Rover guru. Catching Scott’s vision and/or potentially seeing a middle-aged American with some extra money, Sammy worked up an impressive and comprehensive plan for the vehicle, naming it “Project Panda.” Scott signed off and the dollars began to flow. Away from us and toward Sammi.

Over the next 4 months, Sammi’s crew pulled off the body, stripped and sealed the chassis, pounded, painted, and repainted and then repainted the car. Then they repainted it again. The suspension was overhauled, as were the cooling and electrical systems. They were just waiting for some parts. As they waited, they repainted things.

Scott ordered parts from all over the world. Wheels from the UK. Door seals and sills from Ireland. Lighting and wiring from the US. Body parts from Canada. A front bumper/bull bar from South Africa. On every trip back to the US, Scott would take 2-3 empty plastic tubs which he would then fill with car parts (using almost our whole baggage allowance) to bring back to Uganda.

Even I have to admit, the car started looking great, except for the original, bent and dirty license plate that Scott insisted he keep because its “so cool.”

By March, the Panda was finally “ready.” I dropped Scott at Sammi’s shop and headed home, with Scott just a few minutes behind me. When I pulled out of Sammi’s shop, Scott had a massive smile on his face.

Nearly two hours later, Scott had still not completed the 4 km drive from Sammi’s shop.

A neighbor knocked on our door to advise me that he had passed a large white car and a large white bald guy at the bottom of our hill. The car and the guy were occupying the middle of the road, stalled. Sammi’s mechanic eventually arrived and delivered the verdict – no diesel in the tank. Scott was not aware of that problem because – the fuel gauge still didn’t work, it was stuck on “F.”

There were no smiles that evening.

Fast forward several weeks. We are now in the “working out the bugs” phase of Defender ownership. Sammi’s mechanics have spent days in our parking lot under and inside the “bonnet” (hood) of the Panda. When they find something they can’t fix here, which is 100% of the time, they limp the Panda to the shop where they invest additional hours in “just this one last thing” or the “I’m sure we got the leak that time” or “I thought we fixed that” or “Wow, I have never seen that before” or “Nope, I don’t know where we are going to get that critical/expensive part on a Sunday in East Africa, sorry.”

But my dear husband assures me, “it’s so fun to drive.”

Fast forward several more weeks. The Panda is working better, although it is again in the shop today. Apparently coming out to the parking lot in the morning to find a puddle of diesel under the fuel tank is a “bad thing.”

To Scott's delight, the car is a hit both here and in the US. Sammi routinely gets unsolicited photos of the Panda, when it is out and about in Kampala, asking “is this yours? Have you seen it? OMG!” So, Scott’s business sense was apparently correct. In fact, he already found a buyer for the Panda in the US.

Before selling the car and arranging all of the complicated import/export details, I made sure Scott had an understanding with the buyer about what owning the Panda was actually like:

"One last thing – Sally keeps asking me, 'does [Name Withheld] know that even though the car has had lots of restoration and upgrades, it is an old car with lots of rattles and less than a smooth (i.e. Lexus) ride?'

I explained to her that you know that this is a 26 year old car, made for the British army and rough conditions around the world. I also assured her that I told you that your wife might not love riding in it (Sally would not choose to ride in mine given the option) but you will love it and so will the kids. Sally just wanted me to say that."

[Name Withheld] assured Scott that he still wanted to purchase the Panda.

Scott will be shipping the Panda off to [Name Withheld] in January. In the meantime, Scott has already bought another ancient, barely operating Defender to restore. This one, that I want to call “Project Never Ending” is actually 3 years older than the Panda. So much for bringing any personal items back to Uganda in our luggage on our next several trips home.

Ping Scott if you want to be on the waiting list.