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A day in the life of a taxi driver.....
Togetherness Tshabalala jinks his Hi-Ace combi
(with BMW hub caps) through the Joburg rush-hour traffic, occasionally using the
pavement.
Togetherness is a confident man of high spirits,
as evidenced by the stickers on his rear window "GOD LOVES TAXI
DRIVERS" and "DEFEAT CONSTIPATION - TRAVEL BY TAXI".
On the front of his taxi, between a large dent
which, ominously, is in the shape of a large traffic cop, and the holes from a
small spray of bullets, is a lurid notice reading: "JUKSKEI PARK EXPRESS
INAUGURAL FLIGHT" Using the word "flight" is Togetherness's
little joke. What we are witnessing is the inaugural leg of what is hopefully to
become a daily service between Jukskei Park and Johannesburg - a 25 km journey
which takes 10 minutes; less if the traffic lights are in his favour.
The percussion waves from Togertherness's
powerful radio - he is playing 'Boom Shaka's' latest low frequency, 120-decibel
hit ( How low can we go) - pushes back the early mist. He hoots as he drives.
Togetherness hoots at anything he sees - including trees - as is the custom of
his people.
Aboard the taxi are a dozen white people. They do
not come whiter than this. They are 'Omo white'. Their pallor is not due to
fear. It is due to stark terror. Take John Hilton. Never in his life has he
travelled 0 to 100 km/h in six seconds - especially not in heavy traffic. Denise
Smith's colour has changed from greeney-white to a sort of waxen ivory as fast
as the last robot had changed to red - a colour which, as is traditional among
taxi drivers, Togetherness ignored. Togetherness looks over his shoulder - for a
full minute - requesting his passengers destinations. Elisabeth Brown, sitting
right at the back, takes the opportunity to answer "Randburg centre"
even though she works in Johannesburg. Randburg was coming up fast and it
suddenly seemed near enough for her. She worries about how she will make her way
to the front - but only fleetingly because the taxi has
now reached Randburg and Togetherness has stopped. He has stopped as suddenly as
a plane might stop as it hits a mountain. Now EVERYBODY is at the front in a
warm, intimate heap. Elisabeth alights as gracefully as anybody can with one
knee locked behind the other. She is vaguely aware of passers-by loosening her
clothing and shouting "Give her air!"
Togetherness bowls happily along Jan Smuts avenue
overtaking a police BMW which is chasing a getaway car. Then he overtakes the
getaway car, exchanging boisterous greetings with the driver whom he seems to
know. Togetherness is steering with his elbows because he needs his hands
free to check the morning's takings and to wave at girls on the pavement. He
announces "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We will
shortly be landing in Johannesburg. Please make sure your seatbelts are fastened
and your seats are in an upright position. Thank you."
John Hilton is gripping the seat in front of him so tightly, that his finger
tips have gone clear through the back of the seat, this just as a passing taxi
fires a brief burst from an AK47 in their direction.
Togetherness has now reached the city outskirts
and merges with the in-bound traffic like his ancestors merged with the British
at Isandlwana. He stops at his usual disembarkation point in the middle of an
intersection and picks his teeth patiently while the passengers sort out their
legs and teeth before groping their way towards a pole around which they can
throw their arms. By the time his passengers' eyeballs have settled back into
their parent sockets, Togetherness is halfway back to Jukskei Park.
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