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By Earl Coetzee

Digital Editor


Welcome to the 21st century! – SA’s drinking ban way overdue

While reminiscing about her own irresponsible youth, Jennie Ridyard realises that SA's ban on a single drink when driving is long overdue.


A friend sent me a photo of a fond memory, a crowd of us girlfriends enjoying my favourite meal: lunch-into-dinner, lubricated by little drinkies. The restaurant was in Greenside, far from my (un)natural habitat of Benoni. We looked so happy, we looked so young… We looked so tipsy. “Um, how did I get home?” I finally forced myself to ask. “How did WE get home?” “Don’t ask,” she said. I guess we drove, no doubt after a few glasses of that magical, sobering elixir of tap water and a strong coffee. So now, at last, South Africa is bringing in…

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A friend sent me a photo of a fond memory, a crowd of us girlfriends enjoying my favourite meal: lunch-into-dinner, lubricated by little drinkies.

The restaurant was in Greenside, far from my (un)natural habitat of Benoni. We looked so happy, we looked
so young…

We looked so tipsy.

“Um, how did I get home?” I finally forced myself to ask. “How did WE get home?”

“Don’t ask,” she said.

I guess we drove, no doubt after a few glasses of that magical, sobering elixir of tap water and a strong coffee.

So now, at last, South Africa is bringing in a zero-tolerance approach to drinking and driving: even one drink will be one drink too many.

Well, hello there, the 21st century – you finally arrived.

Last century, last millennium, I remember other drives home from nights out in the city with other friends, braille driving as we called it, going bumpity-bump along the cats eyes because that’s how we knew we were in roughly the right place on the road, shrieking with laughter, windows down so the night air would keep us awake, would sober us up.

I don’t know who drove – it hardly  mattered because we were as over-the-limit as each other.

Sometimes we’d stop for crisps at an all-night petrol station, and there would be many others like us, leaking mascara, leaking testosterone, the swaying kids from Joburg’s feeder suburbs heading back after a night out on
the town.

Many never got home.

It’s enough now. I have lost too many people to our highways in my life, too many school friends were killed on the way back from a night out clubbing, their last night ever.

Yes, there was a time when I’d have argued that I’m a better driver after a drink or two, because I’m so paranoid  about getting pulled over that I drive with extra care.

Yes, there was a time when I’d have argued about the impact of a complete drink-driving ban on isolated people living far from their “local” who must now stay home alone, barred from going for a pint by a nanny state.

Now I would not argue at all. I will only argue we were lucky, and these days there’s Uber if you must.

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