Rules of the road for real life
Pop quiz. You’re minding your business, driving down Jan Smuts Avenue in peak-hour traffic when a vehicle overtakes you on the left, on the pavement. Before its entire length has cleared your car, it starts swerving onto your lane, forcing you to brake to allow it in front of you. The driver gives you a thumbs-up while simultaneously swerving in front of a Putco bus on the right lane, and then again onto the far-right lane meant for vehicles turning right. The traffic light for vehicles going straight is red but the green arrow flashes for vehicles turning right. However, our hero has no interest in turning and he’s blocking everyone behind him. Horns are beeping. He nonchalantly hurls his vehicle into the intersection through the red light. When the light turns green you move forward only to find that he’s blocked your path, with his hazards on. Just as a space opens up on your right, he violently swerves back in front of you and proceeds to crawl at 10 km/h, oblivious of your existence.
Who am I talking about? If your answer is not a minibus taxi driver, please go back to Skukuza or whatever backwater you come from and claim a refund from your alma mater.
I am extremely passionate about the standards of driving on our roads. It is for this reason that I once e-mailed my CV to President
Nelson Mandela, applying for the position of minister of transport.
I’m not sure what happened, but he never responded to me.
My approach to solving the chaos on our roads is ingenious. When I was a student at Howard College there were ample concrete walkways for students, but they would ignore the paved paths and take shortcuts on the lawn. After a while, there would be a path on the lawn where the herd of students had been stampeding. Back in high school this would result in a brilliant sign: “Walking on the lawn is strictly prohibited. By order.” But not at Howard. No sooner would an illicit path appear than the visionary in charge of the grounds would send a team to create a concrete pathway where there had been lawn. Problem solved.
This, dear reader, is the brilliant plan I have in mind for our roads.
During the week, Mio
Khondleka of Algoa FM put up a Facebook post with the question, “What real-life situations should be added in the K53 official driving manual?” I can think of a few.
Everywhere else on the planet, how a four-way stop works is simple: the first car to get to the intersection gets to go first. The rest of the cars go in the sequence that they arrived. But it seems no-one has whispered this rule to my folks back home in Durban. If you’re looking for some excitement, just drive on the N2 in Durban and take that Inanda Road/Umngeni Road offramp during a power blackout. It’s loads of fun, in the mould of Lord of the Flies. Your heart will be pulsating in your mouth at 200 beats per minute as 17 cars from one direction all whizz through the intersection while every other direction is queueing. Woe unto you if you happen to be ahead in your queue because your job is to slowly nudge forward and play chicken with the other streams until you’re bold enough to use the body of your vehicle as the last line of defence against a 22-wheeler insisting on being vehicle no 18 from one direction. But great fun is had by all.
If I were transport minister, all entrances into the city of Durban would have large billboards warning: “None of that first to come, first to go nonsense in the Kingdom of the Zulu.”
Another change I would insert in my K53 Reloaded manual would the VW Polo Clause. Let’s face it, we all get sweaty palms and open our eyes wide when accosted by Polo drivers on the road. As transport minister I would also insert the Toyota Fortuner/Ford Ranger rule in my K53. Guys, let’s face it, when there’s a Ranger or Fortuner nudging you from behind with that bull bar, why haven’t you given way already? It will remove a lot of unnecessary angst if we all accept that Fortuner drivers are more in a hurry than the rest of us.
But here’s the jewel on my K53 Reloaded crown. The driving in Alexandra rule. It’s ingenious in its simplicity: don’t go there if you’re not wearing adult diapers.
Your job is to slowly nudge forward and play chicken until you’re bold enough to use your vehicle as the last line of defence