Not a Schuster movie, it’s Joburg

It’s been a waiting game between two thoughts – and I wasn’t entirely sure which notion would trump which.

Would it be Leon Schuster revealing himself as a disguised homeless man directing traffic or would Johannesburg’s metro police eventually station an officer at the intersection between Rivonia Road and Witkoppen?

The traffic lights at this intersection have been out for about three months and for the entire quarter year, there’s been a handful of well-meaning homeless guys who intervened where the City of Joburg and its metro troops have failed.

Correction … I once noticed an Outsurance-sponsored pointsman spend about an hour shooing cars through the busy intersection. More than that, nada.

This week, a metro police van hooted at the guy in rags who was lending a hand to motorists, yelling and laughing at him at the same time – and disrespecting someone that’s serving the community for a few tips tossed roadside from moving traffic.

To my astonishment, instead of stopping to take over managing the traffic, the laughing, yelling, hooting uniforms continued on their way.

It seriously angered me and, unfortunately, it is not an isolated incident. All over the northern suburbs there are beggars, homeless people and assorted others who have taken it upon themselves to help. It’s dangerously well intended.

ALSO READ: City to spend R200m on ‘smart’ traffic lights for Joburg

A frog in a pot brought to boil slowly – to almost quote President Cyril Ramaphosa, according to the late Mario Ambrosini’s memoirs – dies a slow and agonising death. And it doesn’t know it’s heading toward the choir invisible. Johannesburg is the frog.

After more than 100 days in office, the Democratic Alliance-led minority council’s intent may have been great on paper before the polls but, thus far, the new broom hasn’t swept clean: it’s still waiting for someone to pick it up and do something.

In the Western Cape, the “Cape Doctor” isn’t simply a wind. It’s an illusion. But, despite the usual problems endemic to South Africa, it still feels foreign to a “Gautenger”: the streets are tidy, and on a recent visit, I became anxious when I couldn’t see any potholes. It didn’t feel normal.

Setting foot back in Joburg a couple of days later, the benefit of temporary distance really highlighted the mountain of neglect the new municipalities up north must deal with. Between home and my son’s school, I stopped counting at just over a thousand potholes.

Fair enough, the school’s in rural Benoni, but it’s only eight kilometres from my house. That’s 200 potholes per kilometre and likely several sets of tires. Zoom out and consider an entire city of millions of residents.

Just like the rat population is said to outnumber the human population, it seems likely that potholes will soon outnumber us, too. And that’s just the potholes. Street lights are out everywhere, cables get stolen piecemeal in broad daylight; there’s water interruptions; there’s crime.

Then there’s the odd speedster arrested for throttling it up to 200km/h. It’s more dangerous now than ever before, considering the state of our municipal streets.

Contemplating how the executives of Joburg or Ekurhuleni could possibly rebuild the metros into something vaguely functional is overwhelming.

Where do you start? There must be some kind of beginning and at some point, a few milestones to achieve. But I haven’t seen it, yet. It must exist somewhere between rhetoric, an action plan and implementation.