I’m in a taxi that seemingly can only go about 60km/hr and there’s a strong smell of diesel burning. People are battling to breathe and our eyes burn. The driver is ignoring it. We’re 30 minutes into a 4 hour drive and 2 brave people are trying to start a coup. Mina I’m tweeting.

The coup leaders are begging for solidarity. There are now 4 rebels. They are begging him to call another taxi or else they will call his boss at “the office.” No word from the driver.

The driver, still silent, has pulled over under a bridge on the freeway. He is trying to fix the engine. Everyone in the taxi went out to go look over his shoulder. A replacement car has not been called. It’s cold.

Should I ask my neighbour for a drink? We might be here a while.

The driver filled up with R1200 petrol as we left the taxi rank. That’s too much money to give up on. It’s raining now.

The guy with the Smirnoff bottle says he knows how to fix cars. He’s at the engine now. But he hasn’t put down his drink so ak’thembisi.

The other taxi to Newcastle that was loading behind us at the rank just passed. Our passengers recognised the number plate and waved. I think some people were trying to get a lift. They’re hitch-hiking in a taxi.

The driver asked what our destinations are. There’s a rumour spreading that there is a replacement vehicle on the way but it’s a smaller taxi, so some people must be left behind. People are already debating and caucusing in factions. Kumuncu.

The driver refused to give us the rank-manager’s number. He says we have no right. The drinks are pouring faster. People want him beaten but nobody has made the first move. There’s a lady in the backseat calling us cowards. “Musani ukhlulwa yindoda eyodwa! Shayani lobaba!”

A smaller taxi arrived but it’s mostly full. They can only take 4 people. Everyone is outside fighting now.

Finally a second taxi arrived. We’re all going to be a bit late, but should arrive before dark. The powerbank I bought at the rank only lasted 15 minutes. Pray we make it home safe.

We left the driver there alone. Pray for him too, please.

We made it home safe. They put me in the quiet taxi. I ran into my comrades at the garage and they said Smirnoff guy was drunk and trying to fight the wrong driver. Also, for those who pointed out that petrol and diesel aren’t the same thing: now you know why I stayed in my seat.