Dear Traffic Department,

Thank you for your kind correspondence of late. I realise that you are important and busy, so I will not keep you long.

On receiving my first and second fine of R400 each earlier this year, I scolded myself terribly and promised to look out for the speed limit and adhere to it.

Upon receiving my third, fourth and fifth speeding fines of R200 each, I promptly gasped and had my mother scold me as she was reading my post over my shoulder without me realising it. I thought this was quite rude, but nevermind, I know it was not your intention, dear Traffic Department, to get me scolded by her.

Incidentally, have you ever had your mother reprimand you inside your own house, in a way that not only makes you feel completely belittled, but guilty, angry and ashamed at the same time? I have. It’s not really that nice. But I understand, you were only doing your job.

When I received my sixth fine yesterday of R700 I nearly fainted. Traffic Department, you cunts, how the fuck am I supposed to pay this shit fine? Jesus. H. Christopher. I am a 23 year old woman for fucksakes, who lives alone and pays bills, petrol, petfood and still tries to eat every night.

Oh my hairy ball sack. This is not good.