Taxi Guardjie Behaviour That’s Basically Law

A taxi without a guardjie is like a gatsby without chips.

 

Wynberg! Bellville! That’s the guardtjie doing what he does best. Hanging by the door, eyes scanning the road, mouth on autopilot. They know the streets, the stops, the shortcuts. They know which corner has the auntie going to Athlone and where the school kids wait. Some guardtjies are loud, some are serious, some got jokes for days, but all of these ouens are out there making an honest living. Respect that. 

 

If you’ve taken taxis long enough, you kind of know the type. Of course, they’re not all the same, but if someone new was about to catch their first ride, I’d have a few things to share about what to expect. 

 

If you like this post, also read: These 5 Taxi Guardjies Deserve Our Respect.

 

They’ll Sweet-Talk You Right Into Waiting

 

You’re still halfway across the road, and already the guardjie’s spotted you. Before you even reach the pavement, he’s calling out like he’s known you forever. “Gaan jy saam? Kom hie, daar’s nog plek. Os gannou ry.” That “gannou ry” part is the biggest lie you’ll hear all day. You climb in, thinking you scored a quick ride. Half an hour later, you’re still sitting there, watching school kids grow up outside the window.

 

Taxi Turf Wars Over One Passenger

 

Guardjies don’t play. They’ll tug your arm, lift your groceries and toss you in their van with zero shame. Sometimes you’re halfway in one taxi, and the other ou grabs your foot. Next thing you know, the two of them are arguing about whose turn it was and who “took my customer last week”. That’s not a scuffle – that’s how lifelong beef starts in the taxi world.

 

Change Comes in Instalments… or Vanishes

 

If a guardjie still owes you R5, good luck. You’ll get R2 now, and he’ll smile like the rest is coming. Then he acts busy. Jumps out the van. Shouts to someone on the pavement. Eventually, when you remind him again, he hands over the remaining R3 like he’s doing you a favour. And sometimes, if they owe you R1, they act like they’ve never seen you before in their life. That R1 disappears into the taxi air. But you remember. It’s the middle of the month, and a loaf of bread sounds lekker.

 

They Won’t Let You Struggle With A Sack Of Potatoes

 

Some guardjies have hearts of gold. He might hustle you for a seat, but he’ll also carry your auntie’s two-litre Coke, tuck her cake neatly next to her knees, and make sure no box of chicken gets crushed. He calls her “Ma” and says, “Sit reg hier my tietie.” You don’t even need to ask.

 

Full Means Full-Plus-One

 

Forget your personal space – the squeeze is real. When there’s one seat left and three people are still outside, the guardjie will make it work. A tiny oupa, a mama with groceries, and a child can all be packed in while the rest of the passengers adjust their limbs and lives to accommodate the squeeze.

 

Swapping Vans Mid-Ride Is Nothing Personal…It’s Business

 

If you’re riding via Athlone to Cape Town, don’t be shocked if halfway through, the guardjie taps your shoulder and says, “My bru, get in that one.” He’s moving you to another taxi. They’re rerouting to grab better business, and you’re along for the ride, like it or not. It’s nothing personal. It’s taxi maths.

 

Some Guardjies Are Straight-Up Entertainers

 

Nadeem Diempie Swartz from Hanover Park turned peak-hour traffic into a jol. While taxis inch forward into town, he’s dancing, moonwalking, asking for louder music, and making everyone forget they’re late. The bra’s got fans. He’s a local legend with takkies that can’t keep still.

 

Careful With The Word ‘Guardjie’

 

Call him “my bru” if you’re a guy. “Jongetjie” if you’re a girl. If you’re feeling fancy, say “sliding door operator.” Some ouens don’t like the word “guardjie” – saying it makes them sound like background extras. They want respect. And for you to pay your fare with R20 and not a R200 in the morning. But mostly, respect.

 

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