Excuse me officer

We decided to spend the Easter weekend in Swaziland at a game park. Choosing a destination outside of SA at Easter seemed wise. It meant avoiding the carnage on the SA roads (even more accidents happen at Easter than Christmas) and the SA holiday hoards (strangely unattracted to Swaziland). So, on Friday evening, we set off for Mkhaya Game Reserve, chosen especially in the hope that we would see two rare antelope (not that we have become spoilt).

Unfortunately, we failed to factor in ‘likely chaos at the border post’ in our decision to head to a neighbouring country. There were two main contributing factors. Firstly, the Swaziland border post had made no extra provisions for Easter. In fact, they had generously (or cruelly) given holiday to all but one man. They had left him with the world’s slowest computer to input all passport details. Secondly, unbeknown to us, Easter is a time for all South African Zionist to visit their Swazi brethren. Both entering and exiting Swaziland, we were behind at least three hundred of them – dressed from head to foot in green outfits. Thus we queued twice for at least a couple of hours under the very hot sun.

Our visit to Mkhaya was very special and well worth our problems at the border. We managed to see Roan (but not Sable) antelope. We also had intimate moments with Rhino, buffalo and elephants. But enough of that.

Our journey home was made memorable for our Swazi police encounter. Swaziland has very low speed limits that change almost every 200 metres without reason. And they have very active traffic police. The combination of these, together with the immaculate condition of Swazi main roads, means that there are far fewer accidents than in SA. For this they deserve much praise. However, the abundance of traffic police meant that we (or our friend driving) was caught driving slightly over the speed limit. And so we enjoyed another quintessentially African experience.

The first part of the scenario was as you might expect in the UK. A cop stepped out into the road and waved us down. Giving us Easter greetings he pointed towards his speed camera and informed us that we had been travelling 10 km/h over the speed limit. We owed 60 Rand (£6). Recognising our culpability, our friend immediately began paying one of the policeman. The other resumed his camera work.

So far so good, for African policing and law enforcement. But, midway through payment, another car zipped past the police, far faster than we had been travelling. Out stepped the policeman, only to receive a smile and wave without deceleration from the motorist. Into the distance went the car, without any response by the police. Suddenly, Mary was outraged.

M - ‘Why didn’t you stop that man?’
SP – ‘I tried to but he didn’t cooperate.’
M – ‘But why don’t you chase him?’
SP – ‘We have no car to catch him.’
M – ‘But we are now being punished for stopping.’
SP – ‘Don’t worry. I am sure we will get him when he comes back from the shops.’
M – ‘But, if he does return, he will just wave at you again.’
SP – ‘No, I am sure he will stop.’

The conversation was only halted by the approach of another motorist, clearly speeding. Having lost all faith in the traffic cop, Mary jumped into the road to wave him down. The bemused man was then told by a gleeful Mary that he had been speeding and must pay a fine. She showed him his speed on the speed gun. Attempts by the man to cut half-price deal were thwarted by Mary’s insistence that such negotiations were outrageous.

Eventually the man paid up, clearly worn down by the plain clothed and strange accented new Swazi police recruit. The joyous expression on my wife’s face told me of a career option overlooked. It took some persuasion to get her to curtail her work and return to the car. Eventually she agreed, satisfied that some justice had been done. And Swaziland’s motorists took a collective sigh of relief.