The Roads Are Alive, We’re Just in Denial

I’ve recently discovered that Namibian roads are alive.

Ama i ge. They wake up at any time of the day, stretch, roll over, and sometimes gasp for air.

Unfortunately, this causes cars to fall off and overturn. Think of it like this: We drive on roads that lie there for us and, with no ill intent, they just wake up, and we die.

There is no way that what we call “road accidents” are of our own making. Or is it?

My theory is that there is something organic in the tar mix. Because obviously it can’t be us.

My cousin says the Roads Authority has approved the use of nanotechnology to improve our road network. The tiny machines in the tar react to temperature changes, vibrating inside the road under your tyres.

It sounds crazy, but it’s still more believable than us being the problem.

There are portions of our roads that look neatly straight, but would suddenly twist like a snake that just woke up. The next thing – the bakkie is in the bush.

How was the driver supposed to know the thing would wake up?

Oh, I’ve seen these roads. You’re doing a safe 120, then the road suddenly dips. Now you’re picking up speed. The brakes need to be pumped to catch. You look up and there’s a truck in front of you.

You move right, and suddenly there’s a seven-seater coming up the hill.

There’s something wrong with our roads, I swear. I’m sure you’ve also experienced a treadmill at the gym. You set it to 90, and it jumps to 160.

Back on the road, you’re doing 90, and this road, which looks like a conveyor belt on a treadmill, starts spinning at 160, and you can’t reach the “down” button to slow it down.

You wake up later, and they’re singing ‘Ameni amena, ameni amena’.

Ya, ya, you’re thinking about the kudus, oryx and occasional warthog, right?

We’ve put up signs for those creatures, clearly marking where they should cross. But just like us humans, they will not walk down the road and cross where they should. At the same time we’re ignoring the signs telling us when to slow down.

Look, we’re experiencing real losses and losing real lives that matter. Accidents happen, but if we don’t stop to figure out how they happen and how we can reduce them, we’ll soon refuse to drive and will rather walk. Or maybe take the train, if only they don’t derail too. Mukuru uandje, what are the options now?

We’ve all gone on a rampage about driver behaviour and attitude. When you hear a driver asking “owa tila okusa?” your blood boils and you want to strangle the person, but that too would cause an accident.

So you laugh worryingly, as if the sick joke can’t be challenged. We’ve even gone militant on drunk driving. At this rate, we’ll need a soldier in every car. Maybe even shoot people before they drink.

What do you do to one who is rushing to clock two trips between Ondangwa and Walvis Bay? They get so exhausted they sleep with their eyes open on these roads. Everybody in the minibus is either on the phone or eating chips and Russians, so no one speaks up.

I’m also starting to think the cars are in on it. You push the brakes, and it’s as if it’s asking if you want the car to stop immediately or a bit later. The same goes for the steering wheel.

You nudge it to the right, but it develops an attitude and goes 360. This is getting weird. I’m sure you’ve tried to switch on your lights, and they’re telling you it’s not 22h00 yet. What exactly are we dealing with here?

I’m not making this up! You buy new tyres for the car and just hours later the thing is drifting from left to right with no grip.

So, you get off to inspect, and the tyres look like the bald head of a professor. Muatje, where are my new tyres?

As we prepare to bury our loved ones in these coming days, we have to ask: What if the problem is us?

Until we take responsibility, don’t be surprised when I say the roads are alive and they are out to get us.

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