While I was still in Limpopo, I used to see my grandmother get on the bus to work in the morning and got off the bus in the evening from work. I got curious about what happens on the bus.
One evening I got on the bus, since I was still at a free-bus-trip age. I only had to smile at the driver and took a seat in the middle of the bus. Everyone got off the bus and I was the only one left. I went to the driver – his name was Michael – and engaged in some small talk. He gave me a can of Coca-Cola.
The bus driver took me back to where I had got on. My grandmother and uncle were waiting for me at the bus stop and we went home. When I got home I was told that I was lost but to this day I don't believe that I was lost.