During the early hours of the evening the road was busy. The Freestate farmers returned from their weekend’s at their luxury homes on the North and South coast of Kwa-Zulu Natal. Towards midnight, the cars were far and few between. By this time the frustrated Peter was disgusted at his fellow white Afrikaner’s attitude for not stopping to offer him a lift.

It was not as if Peter cared for the safety. As he stood there supposedly in the name of “Ons vir jou Suid Afrika”, he despised this unique breed of Super Afrikaners. These remote Freestate areas, a breeding ground for many Afrikaner narcissists. Peter was cold and furious at these barbaric chauvinists pigs. Peter had to be back at the De Brug camp at 7 am the next morning, It was still a good 3 hour drive to Bloemfontein. Time was running out as he was lying flat on the ground to avoid the full blow of the ice cold wind. There were few cars travelling at 2 that morning.

Peter could hear as the cars approached, then see the lights in the distance. He would get up hopeful, almost beggingly extend his hand to catch a lift. It was only around 4 in the morning that a taxi stopped a few meters from Peter. A black man emerged and stood next to the taxi, relieving himself. Come. He called Peter over. Peter walked to the taxi with a mixed sense of gratefulness and a little bit of fear. During these days of apartheid, with the racial tension at it’s peak, most Afrikaners, let alone those in uniform, would feel intimidated and not expect a kind black taxi driver to offer a lift at this time of the night. Where are you travelling to. The driver asked Peter with a smile. Peter, much more relaxed now, replied: De Brug on the other side of Bloemfontein. I am Nelson by the way. The taxidriver announced as he extended his hand towards Peter. He introduced himself and was Instantly relaxed.

Peter soaked up the warmth of the taxi. It was filled to capacity, he was given some space behind the driver seat. Despite the loud indigitious music playing Peter fell into a comfortable sleep. Peter woke up much later with his resting on the man next to him’s shoulder. The sun was starting to rise. The man smiled, opened an old tupperware container and offered Peter a sandwich. Peter was hungry and said thanks as he took it from the man’s hand.

The taxi driver looked over his shoulder and with a smile: Oh you awake. Peter smiled back and asked: How far are we from Bloemfontein? It was about six in the morning and he had one hour to get to De Brug. The driver saw the worried look in Peter’s eyes and said: Don’t worry brother we will get you there in time. Peter was relieved as he saw the gentle look in the man’s face. He stared out the window while thinking about this experience and the contrast with the lift a few weeks earlier.

The taxi stopped at the De Brug Defence Force Unit’s gate just before seven. The guards were on alert. Looked strangely at Peter as he emerged from the taxi and shook the driver’s hand. Peter offered to pay but the driver waved his hand as he drove off with a smile. Peter was grateful as the taxi driver took a detour of more than 40 kilometers to deliver him safely at the gate of an army camp. The people devising horrific plans to discriminate against and destroy the African people.

Peter entered through the gate, the guards checking his passbook and walked up the road towards the barracks. The unit was busy at this time of the morning as soldiers and officers moved to and from the kitchen. Peter was looking at things differently. The Afrikaners were the cowards and with fear, oppressing millions of Africans. The Africans on the contrary were mostly brave in their oppression and always forgiving.

There are thousands more good taxi drivers out there than bad. There are millions of Africans praying and hoping for this strange phenomenon to come to pass.