It's his fault, officer!

On 4 January 2002, I committed a murder. I killed my Beloved Consort's beloved bakkie.

It was, of course, an accident. (Murder just made a better intro, I admit.) It was dark and raining. The roads were fairly empty. There was a flicky green arrow telling me I could turn right. I turned. I drove straight into another car, which had also been obeying a flicky green arrow in the other direction. Leaving aside the embarrassing question of why I didn't see him in time (was he driving at Jozi superspeed? Was I not paying attention? Given my previous and subsequent driving record, there's a strong possibility of the latter, but never mind), it was obviously the traffic lights that were to blame - I later realised that the flicky green arrow lights (but not the rest) on one pole had actually been turned round 90 degrees.

I always wondered whether this could happen accidentally. Turns out, at least one person has indeed been deliberately fiddling traffic lights. Tow trucks, huh? One more reason to hate them.

Still, given that both us drivers made a lot of noise about the lights being screwed up at the time (and were completely ignored by the lovely policemen), and that they remained screwy for a good few weeks and I personally heard of at least three further accidents there during that time, I do wonder whether the rot goes even deeper. Were the tow truck companies also paying off someone in the police or traffic dept to turn a blind eye?

Nah. Too paranoid. (Embarrassed chuckle.)