Traffic officers nowhere to be found

THE morning of February 4, there were two major traffic incidents in the Outer West. The N3 was closed because of an accident near the toll plaza (Yes, you guessed it, a truck).

Meanwhile, there was another accident on the M13 just after the Everton/Gillitts off-ramp (yes, you guessed correctly again – another truck). The truck on the M13 lost its load, so it took a very long time to clear up the mess.

Now what would would happen next?

Well, you would guess that there would be total and complete chaos. All the trucks (many) and cars and bikes would be diverted to the M13 and they would now, as a result of the M13 accident, have to be routed off the freeway at the Gillitts/Everton glide-off. Your guess would be quite correct.

What else would you, the common man, think? Well, I think you would presume that eThekwini metro police would be out in force and directing all the traffic, which now had to travel across the Everton bridge and back on to the M13.

Oh no, dear readers, I am afraid that this time you are wrong. Not a traffic officer in sight. No pointsmen anywhere. There was total chaos and enormous, unnecessary delays. A very kind civilian stopped his car, jumped out and tried to direct traffic himself. That did not last long, but full marks to him for trying.

Having experienced the congestion, I returned home and phoned the metro police. I asked to speak to the head and was told that if I wanted to talk to him, I had to come into Durban and make an appointment. So I asked to speak to his deputy. Same answer.

An appointment was required. I was then given the number of a personwho, I was told, was in charge of this area. His phone rang twice and then it was switched off.

My next call was to the disaster management office at eThekwini. I was directed back to metro police and spoke to someone who told me he really had no idea why there was no-one on duty.

At that stage, I muttered words that cannot go into print.

This is the city that by 2030 aims to be the most caring and liveable. There’s some work to do, Mr Sithole. JILL STORRAR

Gillitts

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Metro police ignore traffic offenders

YESTERDAY in Cowey Road it was interesting to note the progression of a metro police vehicle.

Initially it passed by an off-load- ing truck, parked on a solid red line.

The metro vehicle then became stalled behind a Mynah bus halted in the roadway. It was stationary there as the bus stop’s reserved parking was occupied by two motor cars.

My first question is: Do we actually have operational traffic policing in our metro – as I have seen none in operation over the past five years, other than the odd booze-bus at peak times and out-sourced speed-trapping?

My last question is: How does the metro council entertain the paucity of management that is eThekwini?

I’d really like to see a response from our mayor and metro manager. WS FERGUSON

Durban

Selfish driving no better than speeding

TODAYI drove two 45km trips in the Durban area. I had the following experiences with minibus “taxis”:

In the first trip, I was moving off the M13 onto the N3 at Paradise Valley. A large truck was in the inside lane on the N3. I was travelling on his left, waiting for him to pass so that I could then join the N3 behind him. A taxi came up on my left and tried to squeeze me into the path of the truck by trying to occupy my lane with me.

In my next trip, I was at a stop street waiting for a car and a police van to pass so that I could turn into the road behind them. The taxi behind me proceeded to hoot loudly and continuously until the oncoming vehicles had passed, trying to get me to join the traffic in spite of the danger.

In the same trip, I stopped at a red traffic light. The cross-traffic had the green light. There were two lanes with a taxi in each. They were both off-loading passengers and blocking the vehicles behind them from crossing. When they had offloaded, they took off despite the light having changed against them.

On passing a store, three taxis were parked on the side of the road. One of these was not properly off the road. His right-hand wheels were still in the road. The driver opened his door and jumped out amid the passing vehicles without hesitation.

None of these incidents entailed speeding. The point of this letter is to illustrate that bad, selfish driving can cause accidents more than speeding. These examples happened to involve taxis and their drivers.

I can name several incidents of other drivers doing the same. Why aren’t the cops monitoring bad driving and taking appropriate action? BRUCE MCDOUGALL

Durban

Calling sports car speedster on N2

A SPECIAL request to the speeding driver of the white Toyota sports car that terrorises every motorist on the N2 southbound between 5.30am and 5.45am each morning.

Please slow down to 120km/h from your 160km/h plus before you kill somebody. If you are in such a hurry, leave 10 minutes earlier. BRUCE GRAY

Prospecton

Holocaust is but one side of the coin

HOW cunning is the world’s syndicated media that it internationalises the Jewish Holocaust, but ignores the Palestinian Nakba.

Both are lived experiences, tragedies where innocence withers on the cross while hand-picked centurions of the Sanhedrin roll the dice and draw lots, impervious to the enduring suffering of a people.

My point? The Nakba is part 2 of the Shoah, so we must deal with it.

We need a judgment in Nuremberg-type exposure of what is happening in the world’s largest con- centration camp, Gaza. Both tragedies deserve equal mention in the media.

With the systematic and permanent oppression of the Palestinian people by Israel, with the subsidisation of Jews in the US and the US government their ally, the Holocaust fell from its moral plinth and ceased to be anything but an emblematic warning for the future through the present.

If anything, the Holocaust has become a pillar that continues to justify the cycle of violence and atrocity.

We have become immune to the consequences of the use of the Holocaust as a blunt instrument against the Palestinian people.

We continue to bury our heads like ostriches and mime the narrative that the Holocaust is the only crime that deserves condemnation. SABER AHMED JAZBHAY

Durban

Sad decline in debating skills

IT’S sad to see Christian apologists’ debating skills degenerate, such as use of the spiteful word “deviant”; and their amazing ability to cherrypick suitable biblical sentiments – “love thy neighbour” – while continuing to wilfully ignore barbaric, nonsensical practices such as prescribed in Leviticus.

Same-sex practices occur naturally throughout the animal world –

If apologists weren’t so afraid of finding out that evolution is a fact, they might study some biology and realise it’s not confined to humans.

If Jesus brought a much simpler message – “love thy neighbour” – why did he also say the Old Testament rules still apply? “For verily I say unto you, till heaven and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled”. DAVID LAWSON

St Lucia TO BE on the safe side, women should pause before they knock back a glass of wine, and think of the damage it might do to their health. Not my advice, madame, but that of the most senior doctor in Britain, Dame Sally Davies.

Every time her fingers fold around a glass stem, Dame Sally claims to weigh up the pleasures of an evening snifter against the distant, harrowing prospect of contracting breast cancer. When you put it like that, the obvious thing to do is leave the glass on the table, but there is a slight risk – which perhaps Dame Sally does not account for – that you are the kind of person who drinks to forget about carcinomas, and, if you followed her example, would soon be unable to say “breasts”, let alone imagine their being in any sort of bother.

It has become clear to me over the years that I am neither a doctor nor a woman, in any practical sense. Alcohol is linked to higher rates of breast cancer (lifetime risk goes up by about 1.5% between teetotallers and those who drink guideline amounts).

It could also feasibly be said that all I’m doing here, in querying Dame Sally, is attempting to protect my own right – and by extension, the right of all man-pigs – to wheedle women into a succession of health-compromising drinks in soul-compromising bars.

For sure, it is already hard enough for me to stop a date’s mind wandering to the various ways in which they might die, so such a gambit wouldn’t be totally beyond the pale. But be generous.

What is concerning is the constant low-level thrum of anxiety that following Dame Sally’s advice would bring on. By all means, set aside time to worry about how you drink far too much, say once or twice a year, or, if you must be one of those irritating people, for all of January. But to fret about cancer every single time you mix-up a Cheeky Vimto seems likely to stress people out of their minds, besides the criminal waste of Blue WKD (alcopop vodka).

Innumerable risks

There are innumerable risks one faces every time one uncorks a bottle, unscrews a cap, or takes a pair of scissors to a 3-litre box of Namaqua “Crisp and Fruity”.

If mine were voiced, and not mashed deep into the subconscious, they would run something like this: Is this going to make my teeth red? Are my teeth already red? Is my teeth being red actually the least of my worries right now, in terms of personal decorum? Can I handle hangovers in the way I used to? Is the next half-hour worth falling asleep on a night bus?

How about on two? Are my eyes really as askew as they look in the mirror, or is that an optical illusion? Am I already so drunk that I’m confusing optical illusions with hallucinations? Is it what my liver looks like I should really be worrying about? Or perhaps what my grandfather’s liver looked like? Would a really good look at the pair of our livers – lined up on a table – make me put this Bellini down?

As I say, I’m a practised enough drinker that I rarely experience this sort of stage fright. There are enough anxieties attached to life as it is, I feel, without needing to bring alcohol – one of the few remaining substances that is both legal and anxiety-reducing – into the picture (assuming, that is, you drink reasonably, and not in the kind of way that may bring stress to other people, such as your life-partner, or objects, such as Tube turnstiles).

Everyone is getting healthier and crabbier and more into kale and less into kaleidoscopic stomach reorientation. The statistics bear this out. But constantly analysing the risks of various behaviours cannot be healthy, or likely to add to one’s stock of general happiness.

Apply Dame Sally’s dictum to other activities that marginally increase your chance of dying or contracting cancer, and I bet your diary starts to look as blank as a nurse’s uniform. At which point, of course, all there is left to do is drink. – The Independent