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.