A Rea Vaya cashier sits quietly to the left-hand side of a meandering queue, triumphantly counting coins of money, while frantically jotting down notes on a piece of white paper, using a red pen with a blue button at the top.

She hangs it with a black string around her neck, as she helps each commuter pay the bus fare before being allowed access to the station’s paid area, through the electronic turnstiles.

Outside the boundaries of the transit station, the mood is idyllic as two security guards assist elderly passengers to pay the bus fare. Nearby, another security guard helps a youngster wearing a Real Madrid T-shirt with his luggage, while his other colleague counts the number of passengers boarding the bus to ensure compliance with Covid-19 health protocols. These are scenes playing out as I enter Rea Vaya’s Thokoza Park Station after the outbreak of the Covid-19 pandemic.

Since the City introduced social distancing measures to combat the vicious spread of Covid-19 – which has claimed thousands of lives in the last year – there’s very little buzz around the station where I board, and the usual act of jostling for seats has dissipated. After passing the electronic turnstiles, I’m greeted by more snaking queues, with each passenger lining up and trudging towards stationary busses destined for different locations.

I can smell the scent of fragrance, as though it’s a fresh lavender flower, as a man sporting traditional Zulu attire holds a stick, looking as if he’s headed for a cultural ceremony. He has no shoes on and sneezes on his hand. Other passengers walk past him, while City Parks and Zoo horticulturalists prune the park beside the station.

The Zulu man swings his stick impatiently while waiting for the T3 bus, which is destined for Johannesburg. Behind him are two small children with their mother, who towers over them while sharing a cold drink through a straw. As the bus pulls into the station, the children start pushing and shoving people out of the way and one lady drops her handbag in the tussle.

Their embarrassed mother quickly apologises on their behalf. Inside the bus, a young, smartly dressed lady plays Sudoku on her smartphone, as two school children argue about a football clash between Inter vs Dortmund. One passenger chomps up a pack of bubble gum, much to the chagrin of commuters seated beside her, muttering expletives.

In that instant, the bus drives past Industria via Commando road southwest of the Inner City. A passenger whose head leans against the window purrs a soft little snore, rattling the pacey peak hour traffic. The inharmonious melange of the sound of his wheeze and the hooting cars outside creates an undesired symphony as the day progresses. The City aims to have at least 15% of motorists in Johannesburg switch to using Rea Vaya soon, in a bid to ease congestion on the road and to offset about 380 000 tonnes of CO2 emissions per annum.

Before the global outbreak of the Coronavirus, a Rea Vaya would be bursting at the seams as it approaches UJ’s Auckland Park Campus, with hordes of folks standing while the bus is in motion. By here, most passengers would be panting close to each other due to congestion, sweating from the heat. This is why the City has allocated R800m for the procurement of new Rea Vaya buses to alleviate pressure on the existing fleet, which is caused by increased demand. Rea Vaya ferries about 35 000 passengers a month, however, the number seems to be dwindling with the lockdown, given to people losing their jobs, restricted numbers in each bus and other socioeconomic factors not discernible.

Since Rea Vaya’s social distancing policy was promulgated, seating arrangements have been reconfigured to compel passengers to adhere to social distancing measures when travelling inside Joburg’s mass transit bus system. Some Rea Vaya stations now have sanitising booths to encourage personal hygiene. Health awareness posters with precautionary messages inscribed in bold letters are mounted on the wall, perhaps for those with poor eyesight. Passengers no longer breeze past each other in a frenzy, and the excessively long, snaking queues are no more. Every commuter now wears a face mask, covering both their nose and mouth. The new seating arrangement encourages daily travellers to observe lockdown regulations aimed at helping public transport commuters avoid transmitting or contracting the novel coronavirus.

As the bus readies to depart from the Helen Joseph Station, a man running after it is stopped abruptly by the security guard in the paid area, cautioning him to put on his facemask before boarding. Inside the bus, there are seats marked with X on them, symbolising the need for social distancing in compliance with the law. No passenger is standing on this bus. A woman seated behind me is reading a newspaper with a picture of the Health Minister, Dr Zweli Mkhize and behind her, is a man in a black suit and brown shoes, sporting disposable gloves. He warily looks on as a young lady seated in front of him removes her facemask to apply makeup.

At Noordgesig station, the driver suddenly switches on the radio. There’s a sound-bite of President Cyril Ramaphosa who had just addressed the country on the implementation of lockdown levels. The trip from Thokoza Park to the Metro Centre takes 45 minutes. As I alight at Constitutional Hill, scores of people line up the building, glued to their smartphones while connected to the City’s free Wi-Fi. The sun is sweltering hot and I can hear birds chirping from a nearby tree.

In the late afternoon, when I board the bus home, there are various groups of girls sitting and chatting amongst themselves. They break out into melodic song as the bus pulls into the station, and we’re soon in motion as the driver reprimands them to observe Covid-19 regulations. At the station near the SABC, two boys and an elderly man rush into the bus on Empire Road, leaving him without a seat. The driver calls out the boys to vacate those priority seats, which are reserved for elderly people and those with disabilities.

The afternoon is humid and overcast, and we’re in rapid motion. Rea Vaya stations we drive past are unusually teeming with parked busses. Taxis are causing chaos on the road, slowing down traffic. By now, most passengers are travelling from work and seem tired, some of them have put on earphones. Very few people remain on the bus as the driver approaches the iconic Orlando Stadium. Rain and cold weather is threatening, but I’m sheltered from it under Rea Vaya’s weatherproof design. As I alight at Thokoza Park to catch a feeder bus to Phiri, I can hear the loud chatter of two women and a man, complimenting how efficient and affordable Rea Vaya is.

I find Rea Vaya to be budget-friendly, irrespective of the destination one travels to. It is also fittingly snug and warm, with sufficient ventilation features and a prompt public transport schedule that’s unmatched, adding to its good qualities. By connecting Soweto to the Joburg CBD, the rapid bus system weaves the fabric of the City seamlessly, creating a new narrative for spatial design within the municipality. Plans are afoot to expand it to Midrand in the north, Wynberg, Alexandra, Sandton and Rosebank to create the country’s first large-scale convenient bus system that travels on dedicated lanes.

A single trip from Soweto to Johannesburg costs R14, 90 and a return trip is R29, 80. Rea Vaya operates between 5 am and 10 pm during the lockdown. The last bus leaves the Joburg CBD at 9 pm. Travelling on dedicated lanes enables the bus system to ease congestion of road traffic, making it the most convenient way to travel between the two suburbs. All Rea Vaya bus stations are beautifully decorated with fetching art pieces, making them picturesque. It’s been an eventful day as I arrive home and observe precipitation letting out, an omen for emotional relief and a testament to how I feel after a long hard day at work.