Swallow your pride … rewards
Thirty-four. Thirty-five. Thirtysi x. “That must be a new record,” I muttered to myself, shaking my head. “God, I hate them,”
I was stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic on the highway, and getting increasingly frustrated with the minibus taxis that were speeding past me in the emergency lane. This morning I decided to count how many broke the law on their way to their destination. Thirty-seven now. I toyed with the idea of moving a little to the left so that my vehicle would obstruct their path in the emergency lane. Let them wait in the traffic like the rest of us law-abiding motorists, I thought. But then I decided against it. The chances of the next taxi taking out my car were just too high, and I really didn’t want to deal with that.
So I sat back and resigned myself to the slow drive to work, trying to ignore the endless procession of 16-seaters rushing past. And then I had an uneasy realisation.
If I were to put on a logical hat, and take the emotions and ego out of it, then I should actually be glad that the minibus taxis created their own illegal lane on the highway. If they didn’t, then there would be more vehicles in the legal lanes and I