My first BRT experience

After a discussion with a friend I decide to take the BRT today. Good idea, I just chose a bad day.
I arrive at the bus stop and there is an uneasy feeling in the air. Perhaps the heavy police security. Or maybe the drive-by taxi shooting that happened last night? My first instinct tells me I should just cancel the trip but the greyhound-comfort that I could only dream of in a taxi puts my doubts to rest.
There's deafening silence as we leave the bus stop. Suddenly I miss the loud chats and (somewhat) private conversations that take place in our not-so comfortable taxis.

Halfway to Jozi the uneasy feeling I had passes as people start to chat. Even though the major topic is the shooting last night I welcome it with a smile - better than the quietness, more like a traditional township to city taxi ride. As we enter the city the mood quickly changes to a more familiar one - friends saying their goodbyes to each other as we're about to land.
When I get off I snap back to the reality. I just took a ride on a dream, a dream that the government pitched to the people the first time the BRT was announced. The masses welcomed it with open arms, and who wouldn't have?  An alternative to the aggressive verbal and sometimes physical abuse from our notorious taxi drivers is a dream come true to anyone who uses taxis to commute daily.
Maybe, of course, the power of the dream blinded us, and the government too, to the threat of the taxis. A  threat that must be dealt with quickly. I would love to use the BRT again in the future, but maybe this time without the fear of my head getting blown off.

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