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It’s not racist or sexist if it is true, and it is true that black women are the worst drivers on South African roads. Based on close observation over a number of years we can tell you, conclusively, that the black woman driver who is not a threat to herself and every other road user, that black woman is a treasure so rare as to mythical.

The black woman driver (or BWD, for short) can be divided into two major sub-species: the Oblivious Drug Users and the Premature Little Old Ladies. The former act as if they are high on anti-depressants or marijuana, drifting between lanes without indicating, turning across traffic, parking horizontally across three vertical parking spaces and (surprisingly often) forgetting to engage either the hand brake or a low gear when stationary on an incline.

Previous centuries had fewer accidents and no black women drivers. Coincidence? We think not.

The Premature Little Old Ladies, on the other hand, drive like pensioners well past their sell-by date, even though some are still teenagers. They are perpetually terrified and bewildered in equal measure, which causes them to sit at a stop sign for hours even when there is no other traffic in sight, turning on their indicator lights a full fifteen minutes before they intend to turn and crawling along the highways at speeds so slow as to be barely measurable with standard speedometers.

Between them these two groups are the most dangerous part of driving on South African roads. Just like the rest of the world we have the 105-year old men who can’t see over the steering wheel. We have the personal assistants who apply mascara and lipstick at the same time while changing highway lines. We have drunken louts who race from traffic light to traffic light. But by sheer weight of numbers the BWDs are way out in front when it comes to causing heart attacks, incidents of road rage and bumper bashings.

They are especially noticeable because they weren’t on the roads until just a couple of years ago. In what we shall laughingly refer to as the good old days, black women didn’t drive because they oppressed by the state, their families and society in general. Their liberation over the last decade or so has been swift, as has been their acquisitions of cars.

Why are the BWDs so bad at driving? We have a couple of theories, all of which are disgustingly racist and classist. Some of them come from cultures where they are still, effectively, second-class citizens. That doesn’t make for the kind of self-confidence required to hold your own on the mean streets of Johannesburg. Some grew up with virtually no exposure to private passenger vehicles, commuting instead on minibus taxis or trains. Some are ill-equipped to drive the 10-ton 4×4 war wagons they have been assigned, and are maybe also overly aware of the R750 000 price tag if it gets so much as a scratch on the glossy metallic paint job. Given the size of the market in fraudulent drivers licences in South Africa it is a certainty that many of them quite literally bought their licences.

Frankly, though, the reasons don’t matter. Just be aware that they are out there, ready to ignore the rules of the road and cost you a fortune in excess payments on your rental car.

On the whole us South Africans are a broad-minded bunch, easy to talk to and slow to anger. But if you have any intention of engaging in politically-themed small talk – especially in a pub, bar, or other environment rich in alcohol – there are a couple of subjects you should be leery of. They’re not taboo, not as such. They could just earn you an unexpected punch in the face.

For starters, don’t try to argue that Apartheid was a good idea, had positive consequences or was in any other way laudable. Not even to make a point, not even as a joke, and certainly not to try and stimulate conversation. White people will become sullenly unhappy with you in embarrassment, and no court in the land wouldn’t accept the excuse of undue provocation should a black man lift a hand to you.

Speaking of men, you insult women at your peril. Do not belittle their intelligence, their physical abilities or their bravery. We have our fair share of misogynists, like any other place on earth, but they gather in small, secret groups and keep their voices low. The average South African woman can, and will, beat you up. Depending on culture and weight class the attack may range from the business end of a stiletto wedged in your ear to an open-handed slap that could break your neck, but it will be unpleasant regardless.

Another topic to avoid is government corruption, especially when the company is overwhelmingly white and/or middle class. The danger here is that, once you get them started, these people will never, ever shut up. Resentment of the incompetence and malfeasance of public servants is limitless. Tap into this reservoir or bile and anger at your peril.

On the sporting front you are relatively safe. We are tolerant of those who do not support our own provincial or club teams, and gently amused rather than angry when foreigners fail to see the clear superiority of our imaginatively-named national soccer, cricket and rugby teams. Just do not, under any circumstances, cheer an Australian sporting squad. Down that road only severe physical mutilation awaits you.