COVID’S SUDDEN CUL-DE-SAC

The sad story told by my Bolt driver put a human face on the gloomy economic statistics of the lockdown

When President Cyril Ramaphosa announced last week that restaurants and cinemas would soon be allowed to reopen, there were howls of joy in the Khumalo household. I suppose we were not the only South Africans to greet the news with glee.

We’ll have to wait while the authorities work out the logistics. In the meantime, let me tell you a dramatic Covid-19 story.

On Sunday afternoon I took a Bolt cab. My driver — let’s call him Kenny — proved to be great company.

In the 20 minutes it took us to drive from my house to my destination he told me a story I am not likely to forget soon.

At the end of 2018, he registered his new car with Bolt, the Uber competitor.

It proved to be a wise move. He was making an average of R26,000 a month in fares.

The money helped him build his

“new and very big house” in the suburbs of Pietermaritzburg.

He proudly paid university fees for his son. He settled all his debts. His next target: buy another car, register it with Bolt and hire a driver.

Things were going according to plan, until the Covid-19 outbreak and the subsequent lockdown, when everything came to a painful, screeching halt.

Kenny is now lucky to make R5,000 a month.

He was so grateful to have me as a fare that day. When he picked me up at 3.30pm on Sunday, I was only his fourth client of the day. And at R122, I was the most lucrative. That was why he was so happy. That was why he was so loquacious.

Yes, I was aware of the devastating economic impact of the lockdown on many families, mine included. Many freelance opportunities I would have had in other parts of SA and abroad have been cancelled.

I also know of companies that have closed as a result of the Covid lockdown. But Kenny’s story brought things into sharp relief. It sounded so dramatic, so immediate.

Here’s a man from Kwazulu-natal, quitting a badly paid day job to join the ride-hailing boom and make the kind of money he had never imagined possible.

Entry into this business turned his life around immediately. He sent his son to university, putting him on a path to possible economic independence.

Things looked promising, if not entirely rosy. He nursed ambitious dreams about growth.

And then, bam! Covid hits him so hard there are tears in his voice when he gets to the part about lockdown.

Kenny is angry. Why did this have to happen to SA? Why did it have to happen to him?

He is scared that he might lose his car, which he has not finished paying off. The money he made when times were good went towards building his house and settling old debts. Yes, he did keep some aside for emergencies.

But he never expected an emergency of the magnitude of this monster called Covid. Now, he has to think of other ways of making money — at least so he can pay off the car.

The car that not so long ago was his pride and joy has now become something of an albatross. It is a reminder that he is but a grain of sand in this universe — dispensable and negligible.

When he drops me off, he gives me his card: “Call me personally if you need to be transported, any time of day. Tell your friends as well.”

Such desperation.

The car that not so long ago was his pride and joy has now become something of an albatross