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JAYNE WITH A WHY |
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January 2006 . : On My Perch at Night, I'm Reading A Book On My Kindle: .
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Monday, August 02, 2010LICENCE TO KILL (JUST GIVE ME THE BLOODY CHANCE!)Good News! After a SEVEN month wait, Hubs has finally got 'Eish!' licenced & registered. Yay-fucking-gads. All it took was several hundred phone calls, a few thousand emails & eventually a plea to President Jacob Zuma's Hotline. The so-called traffic officials in Shleppalale & Poxykwane* combined went well out of their way to make life as difficult as possible for Hubs, requesting original documents, copies & even more copies of totally irrelevant bits of paper. When the clearance came through, Hubs took the papers to the local police station & a particularly obnoxious officer (who had previously informed Hubs "You'll NEVER get this bike registered!") went a lighter shade of latte when presented with the documentation. He then said "I don't know how you managed this!" but forgot to add "without paying me & the traffic cops a hefty bribe." That's all it would've taken - if we'd offered a wad of dosh, our 'problems' would've been solved, just like that. Well my historically-disadvantaged-corrupt-overpaid-and-normally-hungover-or-still-pissed officers of the law, you can go fuck yerselves stikkend, cos we ain't parting with a fucking cent to further line your greasy pockets. Bad News! Our applications for obtaining our SA drivers licences seems to have ended up in File 13 again. Despite providing everything bar a plaster cast of my dentures, we seem to have hit a brick wall. We weren't in the country when the 'old' licences changed to the 'new' credit card style. We got a police affidavit declaring we were not resident in SA when the change took place - this in itself was a bit of an eye opener, as the sergeant on duty at the time said "Eh......what is this......affydavid eh?". Once a senior (white) officer explained what it was, our declaration was stamped & off we trundled to the much hated traffic department. Our applications were rejected outright. We asked to see the traffic chief & he spared us some of his time, perused our applications & declared that Hubs must get a letter from every company he'd worked for in the past 15yrs, stating that he'd worked for them from when-to-when. When Hubs explained that there were a couple of companies that no longer were in business, the Chief Traffic Mongrel said "but you must get the lettah". "Perhaps you don't understand me" said Hubs, with as much patience as he could muster "There are companies whom I worked for during the 15yrs I was not resident in SA, who are no longer in business. They no longer exist." "Eh.......but you must get the lettah" was the reply. Fuck me I thought, what is so bloody difficult to understand here? Hubs tried to explain a 3rd time - talking slowly (watch my lips) and very concisely. "Eeeeyes...........but you must get the lettah!" was the reply, again. Bollocks. What else did this dipshit want hmmmm? Well, in my case, as I thought I'd go the 'other' route & convert my UAE licence instead, a letter from the UAE Consulate would be required. This would have to state that my UAE issued licence was in fact legit. Once this was verified by the UAE Consulate, I had to take sed lettah (another "you must get the lettah") back to the issuing office, because they must also verify that it was issued by them & it is indeed a legitimate licence. Yeah right. "So, I have to get a letter of verification from the UAE Consulate?" I asked. "Eh..........eeeeeeyes" he replied. "And once I have that lettah of verification, I have to take it back to the Road Traffic Authority (RTA) in Dubai, where it was originally issued, to get another letter, which states that they did indeed give me this licence?" "Eh..........eeeeyes. You must get the lettah!" "Er, well, are you going to give me R30,000 to fly to Dubai?" I asked "Eish, no!" he said - opening his eyes so wide I nearly saw the yellow. "So, how do you propose I do this then?" I ask. "Butta, you must get the lettah" came the reply. Now dear reader, take a breather here & picture me. I've never been a 'small' person. I was born big & I've remained big for my 52yrs on this planet. I'm around 5'10" & the scales scream in protest when they whizz past the 100kg mark at a death defying rate....... At the point where this utter fuckwit said his last "Butta, you must get the lettah" I was poised & ready to leap across his scruffy, paper strewn desk & rip his fucking tongue out of his bastard mouth & shove it up his fuckin' arse! Strewth! I dunno how I managed to stay (almost) calm. I was so bloody sorely tempted to let rip into this twat.............but ended up saying "So, when I get the lettah, I can tell you now it won't be good enough for you. You will ask me for something totally irrelevant, because you can!" Hubs put his hand on my knee & gave me a 'don't antagonise the fucker' look. I like to think that Hubs put his hand on my knee as a precautionary deterrent against me leaping across the desk & smacking the fucker into next week! About 6wks ago, I was asked to provide a copy of my residence visa for the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.........................I was there some 10yrs ago. It's just another delaying tactic & another 'we'll screw you around because we can' gesture from the local traffic department. I honestly don't hold out any hopes for getting my SA drivers licence re-issued & in the meantime, I shall continue to drive on my UAE licence. Again, if I offer a bribe, I could probably have my new licence next week. I can 'buy' a licence from certain people 'in the know', but again, I refuse to do this. I could have chosen another option, which would have been to report my licence 'lost' or stolen, but I didn't, because it's neither of those & to do so would be dishonest. (I'll bloody well know better in future!) I'm sick & tired of the incompetence of so-called 'officials'. There's a major drive on overseas to get Saffies back into the country, as there is a desperate shortage of certain skills. What's the fucking point though, if all we get is fucking uphill from power-mad mongrels who are determined to make life a misery, particularly if you happen to have a pale skin? If Hubs or myself are ever fined by a traffic official, for not having a 'valid' licence, we shall eagerly await our day in court. I'm sure the judge would like to hear our story. *Lephalale & Polokwane Labels: Lephalale Traffic Department  
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