It is true, I would appreciate it if you insulted me in any language but bold Setswana because I have yet to find a language as descriptive and honest as my mother tongue, and I have lived among foreign speech.
That is why I believe that those of us who have risked heart attacks and possible strokes let alone bankruptcy to get through the horrific process of obtaining a driving licence in Botswana, know the true meaning of the small fonts on the seemingly innocent little pink card reading; teseletso ya go kgweetsa!
If I had my way, beside the photo image, they would be the only characters on the card. Okay, you can sense just how new my licence is, but hey, I survived a war with rushing blood, drenched in sweat and shed enough tears to power the Kariba hydropower plant!
The next step, as if by natural progression, would be to hook myself up with some nice cheeky wheels, super sound system because you really have to sing with the turn of the wheels at your mercy, a genuine window tint and Antarctica air conditioning; Botswana is home of the Kalahari!
Look, I’m a responsible young woman with plans for the unplanned and, so I get car insurance!
WHAT? Wait a minute; ABS brakes, antiskid and all the other 101 fancy stuff with fancy abbreviations just to make the car stop better work right now! I am forking out as much as my Schumacher/Mantshwabisi of a boyfriend. That cannot be fair or right.
We all know that insurance is based on risk and probability. For example, when you do not have an electric fence or quick response home alarm system, the probability of your home being burgled is high, and the risk of an insurance claim is high, hence your monthly household insurance premium being on the high end. Same with vehicle insurance, a 19year old who got his licence last month will pay a higher premium because the assumption is that he lack driving experience and the probability of him being in an accident is high and the risk of claims increases.
Right, that said, generally women are the more careful, cautious and slower drivers; whether it is because we are simply terrified is beside the point. You know that women are involved in less car accidents than men and the resale value of our cars is higher. We do not drag race at the Phase 2 CBD or spin the tyres off the car at Block 7 just to show Scabo or the guy who is dating our sexy ex how good we are at messing up the car. I dare you to refute the fact that women use 10% more brain cells than men.
So, since the probability of a woman being in an accident is ridiculously low, the risk is considerably reduced, why am I as a woman, paying the same premium as that man who drives like mad, in this pothole infested country of ours?
This is really like typical sex, I put in as much as the man but he gets more out of it. While I am warming up my engine he “claims” his price before I even shift to gear one. Men drive fast, die first and climax fast! So yes, chances of me claiming on vehicle insurance are as high as me reaching an orgasm before a man; close to zero. Why are we paying the same then?
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