Global Changemakers

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South Africa through the eyes of a taxi driver

The excitement I had was indescribable. Finally my flight was descending on the place, I call or rather I doubtedly call, the city of gold, the Africa’s pride. Being in South Africa was simply a dream come true. My arrival was during the historic event, the world cup and just a few days before the kick off of the semi-finals. “…we have now arrived in Johannesburg, South Africa. On behalf of Fly Kumba, I would like to…” , that was the air hostess, interrupting my admiration of the decorations of international flags flying high.

Going through the immigrations control queues, declaration offices and picking my lagauge from a number of suitcases of the same colour as mine, was such a long and tiring process. Being the busiest airport in our continent, OR Tambo International was fully packed, as usual, with people of different colours, languages and body statures, from across the world. From upstairs, the mob of people walking downstairs, were like my Grandfathers herd of cattle walking and rubbing against each other through the dips tunnel. I could hardly notice the telephone booth through the thick multitudes of people. “ Excuse me!” I continuously gasped, squeezing through to an open space where I could easily spot a free telephone. In a minute or two, I managed to notice a queue that led to a phone spot near the Post Office. Goodness gracious! My feet were burning from the uncomfortable “All Stars” that I so admire, just like my fellow brothers from Bulawayo. To add on to the pain, I had to wait for a few minutes, for the fat lady who spoke in tongues to finish giving directions that she vividly demonstrated through her body language. “Woo, Finally “, I sighed the moment she put down the phone. I had been waiting anxiously, but, yet the time was reasonable compared to the time you spend queuing back home. Amazingly my phone call was answered the second I finished dialling. I spoke to my brother who was to pick me up after work. Being uncustomed to a complicated routine of getting hold of individuals through the phone, it was refreshing to experience the modest communication in the rainbow nation as opposed to the 3rd world countries, notably my roots.

“Good afternoon , Sir. Would you like a taxi?” one gentleman asked me suggestively in an Afrikaans accent. Before long, I had replied “No thank you” to a dozen of taxi drivers. Having being labelled a tourist, taking refuge on benches had somehow become an eye sore to them as they felt deprived of their rights to cash up as expected. There was no other place I could sit, besides the benches near the Post Office, for easy identification where my brother would pick me up. My watch was indicating 16:30 hours, meaning I had been waiting for three and a half hours, with one more hour to go. “ I can’t believe I have been sitting here for all these hours, “ I made conversation with the gentleman who had joined me on my habitant, forty-five minutes back. The gentleman, whom I later discovered was Malume Mleya, a popular Taxi Operator within the airport premises, responded with a faint smile on his face.

“Malume” as I call him, took me through the journey of South Africa through his very own eyes and from his perspective. “There is no business for us [Taxi Drivers] my friend, this costly event should just end and we can move on with our normal day to day profitable business”, he expressed with so much disappointment in his speech. From my perspective, the World Cup stood as an investment for Africa especially South African citizens. Local business operators are meant to expand and also contribute to the boosting of South Africa’s economy and infrastructure. Through my conversation with Malume Mleya, I figured out that a local more over Taxi Drivers ,strongly believe that this event was simply hosted on African soil to exploit rather than to enrich Africans, yet there was supposedly job creations, service delivery improvements, “is it not so Malume ?” I asked him with a confused face.

“Mamela mtshana…….”, he clearly explained himself , implying that so much money was used “wasted” on just an event’s month. In as much as it is a world event, at least it should have empowered the locals more over them who are in the transport business. The government sidelined them and gave the privilege to other private stakeholders to transport tourists. This was the only opportunity for visitors to have a feel of the life of a real South African yet the government handed the button to “Cheesy” operators as Malume referred to the other service providers. “Moreover yi screen saver leso mtshana !” he exclaimed, implying that it was an artificial presentation of the actual situation.

“The world cup stood as a platform for me and my family to build a dream house, buy new stuff, Uyabona ?” he explained with a shower of saliva splashing through the gaps of his teeth. Three of his colleagues had joined the fray and further spiced up the conversation with their opinions, shading light to the Billions of Rands spent on the stadiums, suggestively which could have been channeled towards building more schools and hospitals though the stadiums have proven to be counted among the best. Malume is of the notion that its not beauty that the locals are after , “Abantu abadli lama Stadiums mtshana, what will happen to all those casuals after this Fokolo event ?” he opened his eyes wide looking around, “the only solution is to do away with these makorekore (foreigners) and empower umuntu ophuma la !” he exclaims suggestively.

The end of this World Cup could result in the catapulting of the unemployment figures, economic breakdown and poor service delivery. If the government does not have a solid plan to keep people economically active, the country would be in a sorry state. “My bru, this government of ours is selfish, neh…. the only thing there think about is the present yet there is the future.” exclaims one taxi driver, “especially thina fethu basivalele ngangaphandle uyazi…” expressing his anger.

Personally, I thought that this event was a dream come true for Africa. South Africa had represented every Africans dream and aspiration by hosting the world Cup on our soil. Before flying down from Bulawayo, my heart was beating so hard, not because of fear, but the overwhelming excitement I had. But, the very same fire burning within me was slowly cooling off and up to now, I don’t feel it anymore. The least person to have influence upon my life, had brought a new realization to what I thought was Africa’s time, to a “possible” Africa’s doom. Put yourselves in my shoes, did Malume brain wash me? A question still hangs in my head, “ Is it really time for Africa’s improvement or it’s time for confusion to eradicate within South Africa and the rest of the continent?” What is the future of the nation after this event? This is a question that is continuously ringing in my little head and would like everyone to partly answer, if not completely. I f a mob of normal citizens(taxi drivers) share the same sentiments as Malume Mleya, then I wonder how many South Africans have the same thought. What is the future of the nation and its foreigners? Might there be a possibility of another phase of xenophobia, as rumoured. Not that i am putting ideas in people’s heads, but these are the questions that are tormenting me at this very moment. But, lets bare in mind that this is merely a perspective of South Africa through the eyes of a taxi driver.

- Gilmore T. Moyo, Global Changemaker

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