Gauteng Community Safety MEC Sizakele Nkosi-Malobane on Tuessday reassured the public that student l.
A die-hard fan of Taxi 2.com told me about her taxi ride on the Alexandra route. She says it was a slow and bone-chilling ride to China.
The taxi was on its last legs. It was the old style kombi, an ancestor several times removed from the Siyaya. It had an ancient body.
She was not sure whether it was a Volkswagen or some other model which used to have curtains on the windows. You remember the old hippie kombi with side vents.
The windows were all glued shut and the body rattled so loudly that the passengers could not hear themselves think.
The padding, or whatever it iscalled around the inside panels, had been stripped a long time ago. The floor had holes through which oily drops sprayed the commuters into resentful silence. She said it was a form of air-cooler.
There were many patches of rust inside and outside the body which, because the chassis and the body seemed to be attached together by chewing gum, signalled its imminent demise.
The fan, who has one of those enviable rides in her garage, told me that she held her heart in her hands until she arrived at work in Sandton. I asked her why she had not taken another taxi.
She (let us call her Khosi) said it was because of the new curse of the cellphone.
Khosi said the taxi driver had a cellphone with the Mshini wami ringtones. (So yesterday as my niece says, rolling her eyes).
I was surprised to hear that, as she said the driver was in his 30s. My niece, who is hip, changed my ringtone to DJ Sbu's song.
I thought we South Africans were trying to be young. I did not think that a young man would associate himself with an elderly politician.
Khosi said the driver had a CD spouting a heavy dose of religion and do it yourself therapy by the Reverend John Jakes. The passengers were praising the Lord and amening every few minutes.
When her cellphone rang, about 20 million voices in the taxi told her to switch off her phone and show respect for the word of God.
The driver said his customers needed the daily pep talk from the good man of the cloth who was holding forth at top volume.
Her cell rang the second time and the annoyed driver then activated his Mshini to ask other drivers on the route to take this "excuse me" heathen off his hands.
About five minutes later, one of the 2010 recapitalisations glided to a stop ahead of them.
She was then turfed out and ordered to change taxis.
To add to her woes, her new smooth ride was playing a CD of sermons and songs by a priest called Ntshebe.
The sermons were slightly blasphemous to her way of thinking. But her new fellow commuters were rolling around with laughter.