I’ve been working as a petrol jockey in Joburg for a few years now. You know, greeting customers with a big “Howzit?”, checking oil, cleaning windscreens — I love it. I take pride in my work; it feels good to make people’s day a bit better.

One morning, during my tea break, I got an anonymous message through Honestli. It said one of my colleagues, Sipho, had been pouring extra petrol into containers and selling it on the side, pocketing the money. Yoh, I couldn’t believe it at first. Eish!

But the message felt sincere, not like skinner. It wasn’t someone trying to start trouble; it was someone looking out for all of us. I decided to talk to the manager quietly. He checked the cameras and, sure enough, it was true.

It was hard seeing Sipho get into trouble, but I knew it had to be done. If that carried on, our whole garage’s name would’ve been dragged through the mud. I felt relieved that someone cared enough to send that message without drama.

Here in Mzansi, we say “umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu” — I am because we are. That day, I really felt it. That one honest, anonymous message protected all of us.