Visiting SA - DO NOT DRINK and DRIVE Never!!!

So we want you to come to SA and spend your hard earned FOREX ;Well, I'm like most of you, a beer here, a glass of wine or two there, and I always drive the car, because I brag to being a better driver drunk than a Stone cold passenger when my spouse drives!..Sounds familiar.

Well if you visiting our shores as a traveller or even if on holiday - find some responsible driver, taxi backup for ALL YOUR EVENTS when there is booze.

The situation is serious here - the law itself states NO DRINK and DRIVE but it is what happens when you are arrested that really takes its toll.

So for the rule:

DON'T DRINK and DRIVE (That includes me)

This is a recent story that just puts it into perspective in SA and how things can go.

14 March 2011


Dear Family and Friends

I am sending the same email to everyone because I just can’t bring myself to repeat this story over and over and so that everyone is on on the same page with the same information.

On Friday 11 March 2011 at 10pm I was pulled over in a roadblock and arrested for driving under the influence of alcohol. I had met my friend Jenny at a nearby restaurant to have a very civilised dinner and a catch up. I had three drinks and two glasses of water, something I know every single one of us has done on many occasions. I knew full well at the time that I shouldn’t have had the third but I did. We left just before 10am because I needed to get a decent nights sleep for Andrew’s birthday party on Saturday morning. I felt 100% percent when I was pulled over and told that every person stopped would do a breathalyser test. The police woman said she really wasn’t concerned about me but now that I had been stopped we would have to go through the procedures. I did the breathalyser and was just over the legal limit of 0.24. I was put in a police Quantum and with 8 paralytic men and taken to Honeydew Police Station. I phoned Bradley immediately who threw the kids in the car and arrived just in time for the kids to see me being taken out of a police vehicle.

I honestly thought that Brad would speak to the nice police officers and the nice affluent lady from Ruimsig would be sent home. 18 hours of pure unadulterated hell ensued. I was put in a room with drunk, foul mouthed men and the start of the paper work began. I was then taken in the Quantum again with these men to the Randburg Clinic to have blood tests. I was convinced we would be killed from speed and wreckless driving. I am grateful to the policewoman who stayed with me and kept the men away from me. The person who took my blood was practically illiterate and when I asked him to put gloves on he said he wasn’t afraid of my blood. I told him “buddy I’m scared of yours”. It was all done properly, I took photos of the blood kit and documents which the cops found very interesting as everyone else was sprawled out of the floor not knowing the day of the week. Bradley had taken the kids to my mom at this stage and was outside with my friend I had dinner with and her husband who is a lawyer. We were then taken back to Honeydew where we were told it would be a few minutes and we could pay our bail and go home. It’s now midnight.

Apparently to post bail you need a detective and there were no detectives and only one small cell which couldn’t accommodate the “detainees”. I was finally separated from the men and put in an office with 8 policemen sorting out crates of booze from a shebeen. They had great fun making jokes with the “lovely white lady”. At 4am three more women were brought in, 2 motherless. Just for the record, of the 23 arrested, I had the lowest count. The cops also found this amusing as I should “never have been detained”.

At 4am Honeydew police station decided they couldn’t find a detective and just couldn’t process us. We (4 ladies) had to hand over everything, including cell phones and even our belts and shoelaces and were told we would be taken somewhere much more comfortable for us. Somewhere where we would be with criminals like ourselves. We were frog marched to a proper police van and thrown in the back. Stinking filth would be a mild description. The cops told us they were taking us to the veld for some fun which white ladies enjoy. There are no words to describe the fear and degradation. We were taken, sirens screaming and ramping pavements to “shake us up” to Randburg Prison. We were reprocessed and told once again that as criminals we had no rights.

Us 4 ladies were put in a cell in the prison with 6 other women. Prostitutes, drug addicts, a shebeen owner etc etc. We were treated shockingly but I am grateful to God I was not harmed in any way. I have learnt a lot about myself and how truly strong a person I am. I was more than ready to take on a stoned drug addict who didn’t like my face. There are no words to describe the hell I have seen and experienced. The prison movies I have seen are mild. There literally is writing on the walls in blood and no where to sit or lie but on an ice cold concrete floor. No food and no water. The fear and conditions mess with your head so badly, I desperately wanted them to call me and get me out but at the same time I was so terrified of being alone with a policeman I would rather have stayed in the cell. All this time Brad was outside with Gavin and other family members gathering. Gavin woke up people, there was even a Judge on the phone. They could do nothing!! I was finally granted bail and released after 2pm.

Andrew’s birthday party was cancelled, I have had to explain this situation to my children and see the terror my mothers face. I put Bradley through unspeakable anguish. I can’t even scratch the surface of how this has affected my family.

The reason I am telling you all of this and not keeping it to myself is because it’s not in my nature to ever shut up as you well know, and it would just eat away at me carrying a secret like this. I take full responsibility that I broke the law and will face the consequences. I will not dodge prosecution or “make evidence disappear”. It’s unfortunate that I am the one who has had to learn this lesson while almost every person I know does the same thing regularly. I believe that this has happened for a reason and possibly that reason is for my friends and family to catch a wake up and realise that this can happen to anyone. I don’t know how strongly I need to say this, I need you guys to listen to what I have to say and take it very seriously. I never want anyone I care about to have to go through what I did. I am getting trauma counselling and am a complete mess. Please trust me it is worse than any movie and any nightmare. I am not being dramatic in any way that when I say if I could video what I saw and experienced, no one of you would ever touch a drop again. The big hero men who thought it was all so amusing initially, left the prison broken. Me as a female was exposed to unspeakable things. I have witnessed people taking drugs next to me and going completely mental, I have used a steel filth encrusted toilet in front of a room full of people, I have been told my Nigerians and Zimbabweans that their only wish is to “f^%$ me until I die” and i have laid on a filthy concrete floor completely helpless. And that's the mild stuff.

I want every single person to think about this and stop what you are doing. Do not ever get behind a wheel after so much as one drink, its not worth it. Male, female, young, old, black, white, affluent or not. No one is excluded from this stuffed up system that is policing our country. It doesn’t matter how little or how much over the legal limit you are, you are a criminal in their eyes and will be treated as such. Ladies, your civilised dinner parties, book clubs and play dates in the afternoons with your children could honestly land you experiencing what I did. Guys a beer or two after work, same story. I will be going to court and I will have a criminal record.

I am not saying don’t drink, I am asking you all to drink in the safety of your homes and to never ever under any circumstance get behind a wheel after drinking anything. It’s just not worth it. You don’t know your limit, everyone is a different weight, size and everyone reacts differently. Just don’t take the chance, ever.

I apologise for this letter sounding like the ramblings of a mad woman but I felt I needed to tell everyone while it was still fresh. I haven't told a tenth of what happened. I am not ashamed by what happened and I cannot let my experience go without doing something constructive to prevent others from having to go through the same thing. I won’t punish myself for the rest of my life and I will still have a drink or two but I swear I will never again get behind a wheel after so much as one sip of alcohol. I have a long road ahead of me to sort my head out and many months of court cases and trauma ahead, make sure this doesn’t happen to you.

Lauren

Hey Lauren, good on you we all need a flippin serious wake up Call.  Catch a taxi man!!!!

Wilbur Smith and the rhino

This is a factual account written by Wilbur Smith. I'm pretty sure you'll all enjoy the read! He is a great author after all...


The plight of the Black Rhinoceros is, of course, due mostly to the value of its horn and the ferocious poaching that this engenders. However, a contributory factor to the declining rhino population is the animals disorganized mating habits. It seems that the female rhino only becomes receptive to the male's attentions every three years or so, while the male only becomes interested in her at the same intervals. A condition known quite appropriately as "Must". 

The problem is one of synchronization, for their amorous inclinations do not always coincide. 

In the early Sixties, I was invited, along with a host of journalists and other luminaries, to be present at an attempt by the Rhodesian Game and Tsetse Department to solve this problem of poor timing. The idea was to capture a male rhino and induce him to deliver up that which could be stored until that day in the distant future when his mate's fancy turned lightly to thoughts of love. We departed from the Zambezi Valley in an impressive convoy of trucks and Land Rovers, counting in our midst none other than the Director of the game department in person, together with his minions, a veterinary surgeon, an electrician and sundry other technicians, all deemed necessary to make the harvest. 

The local game scouts had been sent out to scout the bush for the largest, most virile rhino they could find. They had done their job to perfection and led us to a beast at least the size of a small granite koppie with a horn on his nose considerably longer than my arm. The trick was to get this monster into a robust mobile pen, which had been constructed to accommodate him. 

With the Director of the Game Department shouting frantic orders from the safety of the largest truck, the pursuit was on. The tumult and the shouting were apocalyptic. Clouds of dust flew in all directions, trees, and vegetation were destroyed, game scouts scattered like chaff, but finally the Rhino had about a litre of narcotics shot into his rump and his mood became dreamy and benign. With forty black game guards heaving and shoving, and the Director still shouting orders from the truck, the rhino was wedged into his cage, and stood there with a happy grin on his face. 

At this stage, the Director deemed it safe to emerge from the cab of his truck and he came amongst us resplendent in starched and immaculately ironed bush jacket with a colourful silk scarf at this throat. With an imperial gesture, he ordered the portable electric generator to be brought forward and positioned behind the captured animal. This was a machine, which was capable of lighting up a small city, and it was equipped with two wheels that made it resemble a roman chariot. 

The Director climbed up on the generator to better address us. We gathered around attentively while he explained what was to happen next.
It seemed that the only way to get what we had come for was to introduce an electrode into the rhino's rear end, and to deliver a mild electric shock, no more than a few volts, which would be enough to pull his trigger for him. 

The Director gave another order and the veterinary surgeon greased something that looked like an acoustic torpedo and which was attached to the generator with sturdy insulated wires. He then went up behind the somnolent beast and thrust it up him to a full arms length, at which the Rhino opened his eyes very wide indeed. 

The veterinary and his two black assistants now moved into position with a large bucket and assumed expectant expressions. We, the audience, crowded closer so as not to miss a single detail of the drama. The Director still mounted on the generator trailer, nodded to the electrician who threw the switch and chaos reigned. In the subsequent departmental enquiry the blame was placed squarely on the shoulders of the electrician. It seems that in the heat of the moment his wits had deserted him and instead of connecting up his apparatus to deliver a gentle 5 volts, he had crossed his wires and the Rhino received a full 500 volts up his rear end. 

His reaction was spectacular. Four tons of rhinoceros shot six feet straight up in the air. The cage, made of great timber baulks, exploded into its separate pieces and the rhinoceros now very much awake, took off at a gallop. 

We, the audience, were no less spritely. We took to the trees with alacrity. This was the only occasion on which I have ever been passed by two journalists half way up a Mopane tree. 

From the top branches we beheld an amazing sight, for the chariot was still connected to the Rhinoceros per rectum, and the director of the game department was still mounted upon it, very much like Ben Hur, the charioteer. 

As they disappeared from view, the rhinoceros was snorting and blowing like a steam locomotive and the Director was clinging to the front rail of his chariot and howling like the north wind, which only encouraged the beast to greater speed. 

The story has a happy ending for the following day after the director had returned hurriedly to his office in Salisbury, another male Rhinoceros was captured and caged and this time the electrician got his wiring right. 

I can still see the Rhinoceros's expression of surprised gratification as the switch was thrown. You could almost hear him think to himself. "Oh Boy! I didn't think this was going to happen to me for at least another three years".