This work emanates from one of Robyn’s childhood memory visiting Durban. These were the Zulu rickshaws whose “pushers” (or rather pullers), with their elastic stride, seemed to dance with their bodies suspended in the air. Despite the strict regulations governing this colonial practice, rickshaw drivers competed in inventiveness by customising their rickshaws (to the extent that they could do so, since they were not the owners) and their costumes, but especially their headdresses, sometimes monumental in size, made of feathers, pearls, seeds, and two, four, or even six cow’s horns. The common interpretation was that these horns (identifying the rickshaw pullers as bulls) were both a sign of dignity and power for those who wore them, and yet a strong rebuke of their status as human beasts of burden. For Robyn, the visual beauty of these ornaments has its flip-side, it conceals a “dirty history” deeply buried in the political collective unconscious – and all the more so as the rickshaws are now a tourist attraction, a ‘wonderful way to discover Durban’s Golden Mile’ – a stretch of beachfront praised by the tourist guides. With this piece, Orlin highlights all past and present facets of the Zulu rickshaws, considering its origins, inseparable from the time of colonisation. She pays tribute to their beauty and elegance, while showing that these qualities are expressions of resistance. In the way that only Orlin can, she delves into their mischievous appropriation, sublimation, irony, and self-deprecation, as she celebrates the rickshaw driver’s refusal to concede their dignity.