Lessons from a taxi accountant

Welcome to taxi accounting – the informal financial system that makes a stokvel treasurer's job look like a holiday.

What is taxi accounting anyway?

Let’s define it in real terms. Taxi accounting is the unspoken, cash-based system used in the minibus taxi industry to manage the fares of every passenger and distribute each person’s change accordingly. It is your job as the passenger to ensure that the driver has his money in full and passengers have their change in hand. 

It’s how taxi owners know if they’ve made a profit – drivers calculate whether their hustle paid off today, while passengers like you and I get to play accountant because we made the mistake of sitting in the front seat. Occasionally I find myself whispering “Okay, R16.50 x 5 is… um… 16 + 16 is 32 plus... wait…”

I am now forced to pull my cell phone out of my pocket with one hand, while balancing people’s money in the other, so I can calculate this mountain of cash I'm holding. 

There are no spreadsheets. Just mental arithmetic, trust, pressure, and hope. All supervised by the occasional side-eye from the fellow at the wheel. 

In most cases people tend to avoid the front seat of a taxi, as sitting there is a high-stakes maths exam disguised as a ride to town. 

Here’s the gig:

Everyone hands you their money. (Sometimes in coins, sometimes in notes that look like they've only just survived the washing machine.)

You’re expected to:

1. Know the fare.
2. Count and verify everyone’s contribution.
3. Distribute the correct change.
4. Smile politely while the uncle in row three questions your grasp of basic maths.

There is no official training. Just the hope that your mother’s school fees didn’t go to waste.

It starts off simple.

You’re in the front seat, minding your own business, when a quiet hand reaches forward from row three, clutching a R100 note. No words. Just silent pressure.

Then it begins.

“Five” says the guy behind her.

You nod confidently, pretending you understand.

Then come more hands. A R50. A R20. A R10 with a few coins thrown in. And it keeps on coming. Soon your head is spinning, and your brain cells are arguing back and forth trying to remember who said “five!” and who said “three!” In taxis, the fare is typically calculated according to distance or location, so it’s not uncommon to juggle five R18.50 fares and three R19 fares all at once.

Suddenly you’re holding a book of notes and a handful of coins. You're sweating. This isn’t maths anymore – it’s trauma.

If you give the wrong change, someone will call you out. Loudly. And the rest of the passengers will turn into forensic auditors with verbal receipts. There’s no HR department to call. You just fix your mistake and try to avoid eye contact. 

A change of scenery

Soon I came to learn that things work differently in different places around the country. Especially when I spent a couple of years in Cape Town. The sites are beautiful, and the culture differs from what I am used to, including the culture of the taxi system – where money is handled slightly differently. 

There I am standing on Main Road, casually waiting for a lift into town when suddenly a taxi comes screeching to a halt in front of me like a scene out of an 80s movie. “Am I being kidnapped?” I wonder. The sliding door growls open, and a man hops out and hurries me into the front seat. “Twenty raand, boss!” a voice instructs from behind me. I heed this call to action and waste no time in reaching for my R20 ransom. Then off we go. 

I know the dance, a bunch of coins and notes are about to come flooding my way. My accounting skills are about to be tested in new lands. At least that’s what I expect, but the voice behind me now reaches his hand out to me, leaving me well confused. The driver sees my puzzlement and motions his eyes toward my instructor, AKA the “gaatjie”.  

In Cape Town, you board the taxi and immediately hear a voice shouting, “Wynberg! Town!” That’s the gaatjie. He’s not just calling out destinations – he’s the official accountant. It’s his job to act as the queue marshal, the announcer and the money collector. 

As a passenger, you get to passenger in peace in Cape Town. Being snatched off the side of the road by a man yelling at you while half his body hangs out the window is a small price to pay. No pressure. No maths. No stress. 

It was fun while it lasted, but I am back home (in Jozi) now, and there’s no place like it. Nothing like a good taxi ride to remind me just how bad my maths is. I was out of touch for a while (not that I was ever in touch). It amazed me how my brain collapsed while trying to compute R18.50 times three without reaching for my phone. “Surely there has to be a way to improve my numeracy skills,” I thought to myself. 

Growing your maths muscle

If counting change in a taxi feels like a school test you didn't need in your life, don’t stress, you’re not alone. But the truth is, strong numeracy skills can help with good money management. Start small: revisit your times tables, play number games with your kids, or challenge yourself with quick mental maths exercises while grocery shopping. You don’t need to become a human calculator overnight – just aim to get more comfortable with numbers. The more confident you are with basic maths, the easier it becomes to avoid those awkward moments where you’re hoping the taxi driver doesn’t ask you to count.

Your ability to keep track and allocate money where it belongs is crucial. If you battle to keep track of your finances or are struggling to handle money well, seek help. If you are the driver of your own finances, let financial literacy be the “gaatjie”. It starts with not being afraid to revisit the basics. Learn about money management and make informed decisions about your cash flow. 

And if you’re not sure where to start? 

Browse our website for real tips to help you move from confused passenger to confident financial driver.