Something with a siren was approaching fast, racing down the highway that curls into the top of Cape Town’s city bowl.

For a moment I wondered if it was an ambulance, shrilly announcing that someone’s Sunday afternoon had started very badly; but a moment later all was revealed as a cluster of muscular black SUVs surged around a corner into view. A blue-light convoy: someone in government was late for something.

The vehicles bunched together like a phalanx of obese dung beetles jealously guarding a piece of shit somewhere in their midst. Startled motorists slowed, trying to find a safe place to pull to one side, and got angry bleeps from sirens for their trouble. One last taxpayer swerved out of their way, and the freeway was clear: the dung beetles scurried onto an exit and were gone.

I don’t know who was being rushed into the city, or…