Alright, listen up, y’all. You wanna get yourself an Ethiopian driving license, huh? Well, it ain’t rocket science, but it ain’t like pickin’ apples neither. Let me tell you how it is, the way I see it, plain and simple.
First off, you gotta figure out what kinda license you need. They got all sorts, you know? Like, for them big ol’ farm tractors, that’s the “F” license, they call it. F license is for the agriculture tractor, the big fellas. Then there’s the “K” license, for them little mowin’ machines and them things you walk behind. K license is for the mowing machine and pedestrian-controlled vehicle. And if you wanna zip around on them two-wheelers or three-wheelers, the ones without pedals, you need the “Q” license. Q license, that’s for the two and three-wheeled vehicles. without the pedals. So, that’s what they call the “fkq”, all three together, makes sense?
Now, I ain’t sure how you do this “online” thing, sounds fancy to me. But I reckon you gotta go to some website, right? Probably gotta fill out a bunch of forms, tell ’em your name, where you live, all that jazz. Make sure you got all your information right, they don’t like mistakes. And you probably gotta prove you are who you say you are, show ’em some papers, maybe a picture. They don’t just hand these things out like candy, you know.
- First, figure out what license you need.
- Then, go to the website.
- Fill out all them forms.
- Show them your papers, prove who you are.
And listen here, you gotta be old enough, too. They ain’t gonna give a driving license to no little whippersnapper. You gotta be a grown-up to drive, that’s just common sense. I don’t know exactly how old you gotta be, but you gotta be past them silly teenage years, that’s for sure.
Now, about this “driving” part. You gotta know how to handle a car, or a tractor, or whatever you wanna drive. Driving ain’t easy, you need to learn how to do it right. They might make you take a test, see if you know what you’re doin’. And don’t go thinkin’ you can just breeze through it. They’ll be watchin’ you, makin’ sure you ain’t gonna cause a ruckus on the road.
And speaking of the road, you gotta know the rules, too. Can’t just go drivin’ around like a wild chicken with its head cut off. Follow the rules, that’s what my husband always said, rest his soul. They got signs and lights and all sorts of things you gotta pay attention to. And you gotta be respectful of other folks on the road, don’t be a hog, share the space. Be nice on the road, don’t be a road hog.
So, once you got all that figured out, you fill out the forms, you pass the tests, you pay your dues, then they give you that little piece of plastic, that driving license. And then you’re free as a bird, almost. You get the license, you can go, almost. You still gotta follow the rules, you still gotta be careful. But you can go where you wanna go, see what you wanna see. That’s what they say, anyway.
Now, they tell me you can rent a car and go all over the world, see all sorts of places. That sounds mighty fine, but I ain’t never been one for wanderin’ too far from home. Renting a car, seeing the world, that’s for the young folks. But if that’s what you wanna do, that license is your ticket, they say. Your “ticket to freedom on the road,” that’s what them fancy city folks call it.
And listen here, no matter where you go, whether it’s down the road to the market or across the country, you gotta be responsible. Drive safe, be responsible, that’s all I ask. That license ain’t a free pass to do whatever you want. It’s a privilege, and you gotta treat it like one. You gotta be careful, you gotta be smart, and you gotta look out for yourself and everyone else on the road. That’s it, that’s all there is to it. Now go on, get yourself that license, but remember what I told you. Remember what I said, and you’ll be fine.