Dankie Phoy’sa!

It’s no funny business when a taxi driver is being reckless on the road, not only is he putting us in danger but also other road user’s. Whether Mageza is driving on the wrong side of the road or above the speed limit doesn’t make it right purely because ‘uMageza’.  While I understand that there are a number of reasons why they do what they do, like passengers who are late for work or some stokvel, or Mageza in a hurry to get his second load but reckless driving doesn’t solve anything. In fact it causes more problems than anticipated.

We think we have a say on how ‘uMageza’ drives but sometimes I feel like we don’t have a choice, wait until he stops suddenly and everyone in the taxi is tossed back and forth like a defrosted Vienna. In that moment you will know that what you say does not matter. Women always complain, saying things like; “Haibo asifuni ukufa thina.”, “Wooo wasinyusela ushukela bo.” or exaggerated screams, hoping that ‘uMageza’ will get the message loud and clear. Sometimes we are in a hurry vele but not in such a hurry that we’d risk being injured or worse. It’s no light matter  when your heart is beating so fast that you can’t remember where you going or where you come from or your palms sweating like the Vaal dam, you won’t feel like saying “Dankie Driver” you will say a two second nyana prayer just for you to get home.

Last week Tuesday on my way home from work, I was shocked as the taxi got full ‘uDriver’ got in and he couldn’t stop talking. This driver I usually get driven by him but his never like this, as the journey progressed it was clear that he was drunk, and a few old men were condoning his driving. They were saying things like; “uyayi shaya imotor lo driver” or “ekseni kufuneka wena driver, sizofika early.” The women on the other hand were totally against this, including me. As we approached the Golden Highway there was a backtrack of traffic and he decided to drive on the oncoming traffic lane, and he was speeding. At that point I was praying in tongues, in that moment of desperation the lifesaving siren sounded, it was metro police! After attempting to speed away they caught up with him, he was arrested and one of the metro cops drove us home safely. 

Sometimes we don’t like seeing ama-traffic cop but this time I believe he saved our lives and on behalf of everyone in that taxi sithi dankie Phoy’sa!

                      Every ride is a different experience…

We can all buy the same bread but the taste can differ because of what we put on it. The same goes for the taxi industry, the rules are the same and the taxis might look alike but the experience is unique and somewhat represents a particular area.  With my experience I have concluded that the experience is moulded by the people in the taxi.

For example, when you get in a taxi from or to Soweto you have to greet the people in the taxi or else you will be punished with expressions like “tjo”, “woo abantwana banamhlanje”, or just a silence that speaks louder than words. On the other hand, a taxi from or to any suburb is different from that, you get into the taxi shut your mouth (unless your change is shot/ missing as mageza puts it) until you get off.  Not acknowledging each other is a norm.

A taxi with’ Sowetans’ is like taking a ride with your family members,   people have conversations with each other as though they know each other. Sometimes it’s like therapy sessions and at times it’s a war zone.

In a taxi to Zola I met uBab’ uRadebe, he set next to me and desperately tried to get me to like him. After his cheesy compliments, I just leaned back in my sit and told him that he could be my father; after all we had more similarities than one and I won’t have to go to khumbul’ ekhaya. I managed to make him laugh at least, and so he went on to tell me his life story and I was touched. Here is a black man who works nine to five for his kids and wife only to support his wife’s alcohol addiction, eventually he ended the marriage and  but kept the kids. A single black father, this was a shock to my world. 

In the same breath on my way to work from Zola, I almost experienced a crime scene first hand. The driver was telling us that the people who were going to Sauer/Seme Pixley Street were causing us to be late and that we should not allow them to take the same taxi as those of us who are going to End Street. The lady sitting on the passenger sea

t abruptly said, “Haisuka! Ayikho itaxi eya eSauer k’phela mos.” Yoh she didn’t know what she started. Apart from ubab’ Mageza calling her the ‘B ’word after her comment, he said “ngathi unga tshayiswa yemotor or bakhu rape masimabakho.” She got off the taxi lifted her middle finger at him, he switched off the taxi and as he was about to get off the robot turned green. After that I was scared to even sneeze, I said after robot and got off so fast I forgot my name.