A dishevelled Man, empty handed, standing in the dirt track waving Nyati down. Another one leaning on a trailer full of sheep hitched onto a bakkie older than Nyati, off to one side.

"Don't stop, its an ambush"… The Gypsy.

A quick scan left & right, no-one hidden, a flat right hand wheel on the trailer, the 9mm safety catch clicked off.

Buuuurrrpp… Nyati slowing… Gypsy very uneasy… Me assessing the situation.
What would Johann do  ?
Paranoid thoughts & behaviour… Survival in modern day South Africa.
Perhaps anywhere in the world that there's been a radical change in demographics.

"Remember the Umhlanga incidents, the wonga kid stabbing you with the screwdriver, the other one, the kid with the HUGE gun & the 3rd time, the Rambo knife".
Now the Gypsy was pushing it.

"This's the desert, different etiquette, farm protocol, I'm stopping".

At last Nyati was able to give. Up to now we'd been needful.
It WAS only a flat.  The guy replaced the valve & we used the on board inflation hose  connected into Nyati's braking system… Quick quick, toothless smiles all-round, & the sheep were on their way to an uncertain future.

I couldn't help ruminating over those initial, uncharitable thoughts, & my mind wandered back to to a time that Helen, Adam & I got lost driving in Miami.
I'd stopped to ask a policeman in a black & white for directions. Fortunately, I'd approached the patrol car from the front, because when I got to the window, he'd drawn his weapon. His advice stayed with me… "Follow me to the highway, & don't stop ANYWHERE… It ain't safe".
That was a long time ago.
What's changed ?

Brakedown in Europe, & a service patrol vehicle will arrive in minutes.
In Africa, there's no safety net.

Anyway, we'd done a good turn, & Nyati happily loped along, following the tracks through the sometimes white, sometimes red, Kalahari sand dunes… Destination, Kgalagadi Transfrontier National Park.

www.rv-nyati.com