An ode of joy to good service

Being faced with the daunting task of getting the metro to fix the leak, I chose to remain silently optimistic that somehow rain water had managed to dam up at the leak. And we all know how difficult it is to remain optimistic in this country.

After all, the unemployment rate keeps spiking, so does the price of food, so does petrol, and every day we are told there is drought, even though we are being dragged away by flash floods.

We will not even talk about our how the government keeps on failing its people.

So, yes, with my frail optimism guarding my failing sense of positivity, I investigated the water meter as a good citizen of the country should, keeping in mind that we are urged to report all water leaks immediately.

And yes, my optimism made way for pessimism. The water meter was leaking. My front yard beyond the perimeter wall had become a marsh.

I could only sigh as my wife told me we needed to report it immediately. My reaction was simple: ”Yes, I will do so”, knowing the call centre was going to be a nightmare, and then we would probably have to wait another two to three weeks for any assistance.

After all, I work in the media and I am well aware of the frustrations of the community and the consistently poor service delivery being dished out.

I was already imagining phoning every three days, citing the reference number. I was also ready to engage in strategic battle, imagining how I would keep on complaining to the metro about the fact that that they want me to report leaks while they fail to upgrade their infrastructure.

Despite all these depressing thoughts running through my mind like a runaway train as I glared at the water meter, I still managed a sly grin, considering it could be worse. After all, my name could be Allister Coetzee.

So yes, the next morning I was again reminded of my duty to report the leak. By this stage I was thinking back several years, when I also reported water gushing forth from a pipe along a sidewalk.

At that time I spent almost five minutes trying to spell the name of the street, and so used up all my airtime.

Funnily enough, we often talk about crime in this country, but it is a different scenario when you actually become a victim.

It’s the same when dealing with the metro and water leaks or faulty streetlights. It’s easy to talk about it, until you become a victim of failing infrastructure.

And so, on a Thursday morning, I found the number of the call centre, punched in the digits and braced myself for pure frustration.

I was immediately given an option of which service I desired. I complied, still overwhelmed with pessimism.

To my shock and surprise (almost dropping the phone), a mere five seconds after punching in my option, an operator from ”the other side” came online.

Just as surprising was the discovery that the operator was friendly and helpful, and the conversation took a mere minute or so. As I put down the phone, the reference number popped on my phone.

So far so good, I thought. Now for the long wait to actually get someone to attend to the mess.

Lo and behold, the next day, yes, a mere 24 hours later, I receive a message on my WhatsApp from my wife saying that the metro was fixing the leak. And no, they didn’t have to return, they could do it immediately.

I almost fell off my chair. The entire process, that I was certain would be incredibly frustrating and expensive, turned out to be joy to behold. A mere day to fix a leak.

Now, my pessimism turned towards optimism, but only slightly; I was still wondering how on Earth it’s possible to get such quick action while the Advertiser remains flooded with complaints about leaks being attended to only weeks, or even months, later.

This is a conundrum I have yet to unravel; why the metro fluctuates between excellent and shoddy service.

Either way, I was overjoyed, and nearly burst into an ode, but then thought better of it, lest someone thought the feral cats were engaged in a nasty fight.

Yes, it is one little old meter, but small things, like good service, do give me hope that all is not entirely lost for South Africa.

I, unfortunately, cannot say the same for our Springboks (I hope they know the debate is on about which team is the best in Africa right now – maybe Zimbabwe or Namibia?).