A traffic jam in Etosha

I’m not one for traffic jams. In this I’m not alone, I realise that, but I lose my temper all too easy when I’m driving in the city – and I don’t even have to spend much time in traffic. We live relatively close to both my work and my child’s school, which is why we seldom spend more than half an hour on the daily commute.

But during those 30 minutes, several incidents will make my blood boil (and teach my daughter words that bring her grandparents to their knees). It’s usually a confluence of events that lead to the eventual outburst.

It will start when I allow someone in who doesn’t show thanks. Then there will be a few cars right in the middle of an intersection and when the light turns green for me, they’re in the way. It’s