The most vulnerable extension of my fortress. My essential entrance to the outside world, yet the soft spot where I am most likely to be confronted. I have never actually experienced any vicious confrontation, but I imagine it. The cunning one, who moves swiftly, using the moment of surprise and who waits outside my front gate.

From the inside of my house I burrow my way through passages and corridors, eventually reaching the garage where my four wheel drive waits silently in it’s dark, damp sleeping place. I disarm and once inside, I lock the doors. I pear intently into the rear-view mirror, as I hit the button which activates the automatic doors. The metal garage doors roll up slowly, bright sunlight is revealed. I squint ever more intently into the rear view mirror. When it looks safe to embark,  I slowly release the handbreak and glide cautiously backward, exposing my shiny car to the sun. As I wait for the metal doors to close again, I make a quick turn in my wide and spacious parking yard, ensuring that my car bonnet is head first, once I get to the end of my winding driveway.

Now, for a brief moment I can appreciate the beautiful front gardens, with only indigenous flowers and rolling green lawns, which I, together with Sydwell, have maintained since we moved to Johannesburg from Pretoria. Before I reach the front gate, I see Sydwell. He is eagerly weeding in the front patch on his knees with blue overalls and hat to protect him from the sharp midday sun. He waves as I reach the front gate. My foot eases onto the break pedal, as I reach the sturdy black gates, surrounded by strong walls and trimmed with electric fencing. I reach for the other button, on my overwhelmed keychain, and wait until the gate is completely open. I can see now that the street is empty. I urge forward, now with more speed. The moment the boot of the car is clear of the exit, I hit the button once more to close the front gate. Without waiting for it to close completely, I drive on, relieved to have avoided any confrontations.