Akere in those days it was unheard of for boyfriends; prospective or not, to waltz into homes with the freedom of Gomora’s rodents and liberally behest temporary handovers of their sweethearts.

East Rand’s Tembisa, my then coal smoke misty locale complete with unforgivingly rough and dusty streets, was a perpetual hive of all kinds of activities and had no time nor place for extreme sports or outdoor activities. After all, life was already an extreme sport in these parts as my permanently judgemental childhood friend often quipped.

The last time I ever found myself trapped inside a people-carrying contraption of the taxi industry was shortly before the launch of the now demonized taxi recapitalisation programme that sought to reduce the number of a washed-out herd of Datsun E20s, the Toyota Super Series and the late 1970s favourites, amakatshibane.