
The GAC GS3 Emzoom is a refreshing and a different offering in a flooded SUV market
Sporty and stylish: The GAC Emzoom is a refreshing addition to the compact SUV market.
It might come to the point where we lose track of how many Chinese brands there are in South Africa.
We might even begin to lose track of how many compact SUVs are in the market because it has become congested with them.
Chinese brand GAC Motor entered two SUV models into the South African market in the middle of 2024: the Emzoom and the Emkoo.
In typical fashion, both cars looked good and came with all the fancy technology that we have become accustomed to getting in Chinese cars.
The
Mail & Guardian
got behind the wheel of the Emzoom, which is available in three variants: Comfort, Executive and R-Style.
We were lucky enough to get the top-of-the-range R-Style model and I was pleasantly surprised.
I knew that the exterior and interior were going to be appealing, because Chinese manufacturers always put a lot of emphasis on bringing out a neat product.
However, I did find some styling similarities with BMWs. For starters, on the R-Line trim, the black grille gets three gold panels, much like some BMWs, which have M-specific colours on their grilles.
The colour coding on the inside also provided some similarities. The same blue plastics you see around the aircon vents in BMWs are present in the Emzoom R-Style.
This is probably because Thomas Schemera, who has held key roles at both BMW M and Hyundai, is now the chief operating officer and senior vice president of GAC International.
Alongside the ambient lighting inside the Emzoom, the air conditioning and volume dials also get a rainbow light around them. These style features give the car a fun and sporty atmosphere.
Manufacturers sometimes try too hard to make compact SUVs feel luxurious with fancy screens, decked out interiors and the absence of buttons. While the Emzoom still has the fancy screens and is decked out, it doesn't aim for a luxurious interior, but rather something that boosts adrenaline.
The Emzoom comes with the standard 1.5 litre turbocharged petrol engine that we are accustomed to getting in Chinese compact SUVs. Paired with a dual-clutch transmission gearbox, it will deliver 130kW of power and 270Nm of torque.
The coolest feature of the car is the exhaust system which is designed to produce sound through 'active exhaust valves'. These can be toggled between open and closed, allowing for a louder and more sporty sound when open, especially in the sport mode.
It adds to the fun feel the Emzoom was meant to have. You could actually fool people into thinking you were driving a sports car.
But this feature also has a downside. I became obsessed with the exhaust sound, continually putting the car into sport mode. This exposed the sensitivity of the accelerator, making the car move too quickly. This is not ideal when navigating into tight parking spots or even pulling into your garage.
Besides that, the Emzoom provides excellent handling and effortlessly picks up speed when you need it to.
I experienced some turbo-lag, but it was not bad at all. It didn't make the vehicle feel unresponsive.
The other downside is the fuel consumption. This is a pretty compact vehicle and, while GAC claims a consumption figure of 6.2 litres/100km, I averaged 8.1 litres/100km.
Overall, I really enjoyed the GAC GS3 Emzoom. It felt different and refreshing. I loved the fact that GAC went all out in making it a fun and sporty experience without producing a performance monster.
You get everything you need — and the lovely exhaust sound as a bonus but, in a flooded SUV market, it is difficult to say whether the Emzoom will make a splash.
Pricing
GS3 EMZOOM 1.5L T Comfort — from: R419 900
GS3 EMZOOM 1.5L T Executive — from: R439 900
GS3 EMZOOM 1.5L T R-Style — from: R489 900
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Mail & Guardian
14 hours ago
- Mail & Guardian
Starlink raises questions about necessity and relevance of BEE laws
The licensing of Elon Musk's Starlink has sparked debate about whether South Africa's black economic empowerment laws are an impediment to growth or path to an inclusive economy The South African government may have said that black economic empowerment is not negotiable, but Starlink's battle to enter the market has brought into play the influence of international trade. During a Q&A session in parliament last week President Cyril Ramaphosa said his administration is seeking to create an inclusive economy making broad-based clack economic empowerment (broad-based BEE) legislation critical. Ramaphosa was asked a barrage of questions about racial categories by members of the National Assembly on Tuesday and whether he was willing to do away with BEE laws. Starlink's efforts to set up shop changed in February shortly after US President Donald Trump was inaugurated into office and the company withdrew from licensing hearings. Instead the company argued in submissions that its global policy does not allow local ownership. Democratic Alliance (DA) member George Michalakis asked Ramaphosa whether he would do a cross-departmental review of legislation that stifles investment and limits growth at 1%. This came after Minister of Communication and Digital Technologies Solly Malatsi, a DA member in the coalition government, issued a policy directive to review ownership requirements in the information and communication technology (ICT) sector. Malatsi Portfolio committee chairperson Kusela Diko had invited Malatsi to explain the policy directive and said other telecom companies do business in the country without complaint. Malatsi told committee members that his department sought to allow contribution to transformation besides share ownership to historically disadvantaged groups. Portfolio committee members accused Malatsi of seeking to draw back transformation for the sake of one multinational company and for using a ministerial policy directive instead of tabling a bill to amend legislation. After receiving public comments in the next 30 days, the Independent Communications Authority of South Africa (Icasa) will conduct a six-month study on whether equity equivalent programmes (EEIPs) can be implemented in the ICT sector. While the ANC is considering EEIPs under the Transformation Fund as an alternative to the 30% share requirement, it rejected Malatsi's policy directive, stating there was no deal struck during the Washington visit. Economic Freedom Fighters committee member Sinawo Tambo criticised Malatsi for using a ministerial directive to amend legislation, and said the tactic sought to circumvent parliamentary processes. uMkhonto weSizwe party portfolio committee member Colleen Makhubele said Malatsi was using a 'clandestine unilateral approach' to fast-pace licensing of Starlink instead of empowering 490 already licensed network providers. Although South African billionaire Johann Rupert, When answering Michalakis' question during the Q&A Ramaphosa said he would initiate a 'regulatory review process' that would unleash 'speed of execution' in government administration but doubted BEE was the issue holding the economy back. Corné Mulder, leader of the Freedom Front Plus, asked whether Ramaphosa was prepared to take a different approach, away from BEE and the Expropriation Act, to stimulate the economy. Ramaphosa said his starting point was the redress of past black economic exclusion and cited an International Monetary Fund report that highlighted the concentration of capital and ownership, where the top 10% own 86% of the wealth as the hurdle for growth. 'I'm rather surprised and taken aback when I hear that the policy of BEE militates against the growth of our economy. That I find surprising,' he said. 'If we accept that ownership of our economy is imbalanced, the clause on equality in our constitution seeks to undo that. So therefore ownership in our economy should be broadened,' he said. Build One South Africa leader Mmusi Maimane agreed that the EEIPs as an alternative to share holding are important to attract foreign investment and asked Ramaphosa whether these will be extended to South African companies. Ramaphosa said his government was looking at a number of laws that would address both past racial exclusion and growth to build an inclusive economy. 'To do so we need to take into account where we come from, what our constitution says, what our laws say and be able to move forward in a very determined way,' he said.


Mail & Guardian
14 hours ago
- Mail & Guardian
What makes a building memorable long after the paint dries?
Imagine 17!: Not all architecture is appealing, such as the Disa Towers in front of Table Mountain. But even these buildings invoke people's memories. Photo: Supplied Everyone remembers the corridors of their school and the distinct smell of specific classrooms. If you've ever been divorced, I am certain you will never forget those cold courtroom walls as you went in to finalise the legal process. It's hard to forget the home where your baby took her very first steps. And one cannot possibly erase the feeling of time spent within hospital walls, where the happiest of hellos and hardest of goodbyes intertwine. Buildings shape us and live inside us as the years go by. Cities with their people and properties evolve through human stories. South Africa, with its rich layers, contradictions, and painfully beautiful potential, is bursting with spaces that people have emotionally connected with for centuries. As I stood inside a heritage building last week at a property launch, I was reminded of just how many of Cape Town's buildings are not just structures but characters in the city's ever-evolving plot. I looked at the 120-year-old solid, bulky wooden beams above me and admired the original sun-dried brick walls —almost two centuries of history right at my very feet. And now, this building will receive a new lease on life as she enters her new chapter. She will become a modern apartment block. The developer will combine the old with the new, transforming this heritage building into something inspiring. They will incorporate modern, contemporary design, all the while maintaining the extraordinary façade with its vintage architectural charm. Have you ever sat and thought about the buildings in our cities and how they came to be? Let's take those three tall towers (known affectionately by Capetonians as the Tampon Towers) perched awkwardly at the base of the Mother City's iconic Table Mountain. I have tweeted a lot about these pepper pots, and the general consensus is that people either really love or really hate the towers. This controversial trio of architecture, officially known as Disa Park, is situated in Vredehoek, Cape Town. Big and brutalist in look and feel, it was designed by the architectural firm Bergamasco, Duncan & James. The towers were cylindrical in shape to withstand the strong Cape Town winds that are experienced in this section of Vredehoek. Some see them as charming reminders of youthful independence: their first-ever student digs, where they shaped the early days of their lives. Even today, those who live there love the towers' close proximity to nature trails and the cosmopolitan vibe of the Mother City. Others view them as visual intrusions on one of the world's natural wonders. Some of my Twitter, now X, followers have said the building sways when gale-force winds blow, and sometimes, a window or two has blown out. Did you know that the original plan was to build 17 of these towers at the base of Table Mountain? And have you ever wondered why three towers of this size were allowed to be built this high and so close to the base of Table Mountain? There is, of course, a fascinating story behind all of my above questions. Back in the 1960s and 1970s, Cape Town was dealing with a 'white housing' shortage under apartheid. More housing needed to be built specifically in areas designated for white residents. In an effort to speed up construction and encourage development, the government suspended many building restrictions and relaxed zoning regulations in white group areas. Developers took full advantage and started building much taller buildings than was previously allowed. Cape Town then experienced a surge in high-rise developments. Murray & Roberts, the company behind the construction of Disa Towers, found a loophole. They built the base of the towers just below the legal development line at the foot of Table Mountain, then went upward. They were able to bypass height restrictions legally, and technically. Thankfully, only three towers were built, namely: Blinkwater, Platteklip and Silverstroom. Construction was completed in 1969. Each one has 18 storeys and is 54.86m high. The diameter of each tower is 24.384m. Amenities include a tennis court, squash court, swimming pool and braai area. With a total of 287 apartments and 340 parking bays, the cost to build this development at the time was R3 million. The third tower took just 63 days to build. If only we could close a pothole in record-breaking times such as this. And what was the monthly rent for an apartment in Disa Towers back then? R55 to R160 a month. This rate included water and electricity. The son of the National Party finance minister at the time — Nico Diederichs — was a junior partner in the company that developed Disa Park. The conspiracists say his involvement could have also contributed to these controversial towers being built at this location. Today, those towers remind us of a complicated era — one where architectural ambition often trumped environmental and social ethics. But they also reflect how policy shapes our skylines, for better or worse. Other notable buildings built during this cowboy period of development include Blouberg Heights, an extremely tall block that stands out like a sore thumb in the coastal suburb's landscape. Blouberg Heights, built in the 1970s, is 17 storeys high and is on Sir David Baird Drive in Bloubergstrand, Cape Town. It is the only building of its kind in this area, as other structures are much lower. Gardens Centre Tower is on Mill Street and Upper Buitenkant Street, Gardens, Cape Town. It was also built in the 1970s during this era of the 'white housing' crisis. It was completed in 1973, measuring 81m with 22 floors. This erf was once the home of the International Hotel before it was transformed into a residential tower with a shopping centre component. Last, the well-known Twin Towers in Sea Point were also built during this period of relaxed regulation. These two identical towers are right next to each other on Beach Road. All this was done in the name of alleviating the housing shortage for the white people, who were the only ones permitted to live in these areas. It's crazy to think that these developments were all built as a solution to a housing crisis at the time, yet their effect on the Cape Town skyline will be experienced by so many generations to come. They've left a significant imprint on the city's urban history. Perhaps they are a fundamental lesson for us all when it comes to the sustainability and essence of urban planning and design. Not all buildings are pretty. Not all histories are happy. But they all deserve to be heard. The concrete and steel don't just support floors. They support stories. They tell us who we were, how we lived, and if we're paying attention, what we should carry forward. Sometimes in our rush to innovate, we forget to anchor. We want smarter buildings, ROI, the latest tech and green ratings. Buildings shouldn't only help us move forward; they should also help us look back. Urban development should always listen to a place's heartbeat before changing its face. In the end, people don't remember square metres. They remember how a place made them feel. How a room held their joy or sorrow. How a view reminded them of something they'd forgotten. Ask Ash examines South Africa's property, architecture and living spaces. Continue the conversation with her on email (


Mail & Guardian
21 hours ago
- Mail & Guardian
Unpacking South Africans' response to ‘the 59ers'
(Graphic: John McCann/M&G) It is Tuesday evening. I am seated with a friend and my son in our favourite restaurant in Bloemfontein. My son listens to our conversation as I note that the 49 Afrikaner migrants (or 59 as some reports suggest) incorrectly and problematically afforded refugee status through executive order by the Trump administration have landed in the US. Their departure is called the 'Great Tsek' on social media. We laugh conspiratorially. South Africans respond to most situations with a trademark humour that inspires much hilarity. We repeat the in-joke in multi-cultural and multi-classed spaces — taxis, buses, lecture halls, at a Sunday braai, in a coffee shop, between co-workers — we evoke the reality of co-created belonging through humour. Our humour, a shared South African-ness irrespective of historicised divisions of race, class, creed or gender, masks our discomfort, or psychological and emotional pain. Whether we are supporting Tyla's right to self-define as coloured — while ridiculing and stereotyping colouredness — and interrogating black Americans' failure to unpack the context of coloured in South Africa, or vituperatively disowning Elon Musk, South Africans have a unique, enmeshed and complex affinity and loyalty to each other. Amorphous and responsive, this loyalty is an organic response to a perceived threat, or a show of appreciation or forgiveness — recall our troetelnaam (pet name) for our president: Cupcake. South African humour and loyalty are revealed on TikTok, Instagram and X. On these platforms we deconstruct the perceptions and slights of 'ordinary' South Africans as we digest and metabolise the news together, as South Africans, and as global citizens in conversation with other global citizens. We find solace in our derision, and the truth etched onto the edges of that laughter. The phrase 'Great Tsek' is an incisive commentary on the double-edged nature of the 59ers' departure. As South African stayers imagine saying that, they remind us of a socio-cultural memory in which white Afrikaners would chase black people from their farms with the word 'voertsek' (go away, get lost). And in return, based on commentary from a few of the emigrants, we can duly imagine the 59ers exclaiming 'voertsek' as they took off from OR Tambo International Airport. The phrase, Great Tsek, thus points to a rejection that is mirrored by those who stay (are left behind) and those who leave. Amid the laughter M, a young black woman who has experienced the harrowing loss of dispossession of family-owned land in the Free State through apartheid's legalised appropriation of land, comments: 'I'm laughing, but they're still South African, man! What are they going to experience there? It doesn't matter that they are white. I worry about them. They are us.' As a national human collective — South Africans — we don't want to be rejected, or 'left behind'. It is a typical human response to excise the offending parties from our collective. But still there are those among us, like my friend, who compassionately tries to understand the reasons for the 59ers' departure, and hopes that they haven't made a mistake that will have enduring negative repercussions. The reasons for emigration are multiple, but this particular departure underscores a severance of ties with the land of their birth, our South African humour, and much more that embodies a particular national expression of humanity. The 59ers are not Europeans; much less American. They are South Africans; and we are a complicated mengelmoes (mixture) of peoples who embody various amalgamated traditions, languages, orientations, humour, oppressions and battle scars. Violence, risk and resilience are endemic to the South African narrative, no matter which ethnic tributary you lay claim to as you arrive here on the shores of a contemporary South Africa that is being lived in the trenches and robustly debated on the streets of social media. Those who speak, who stay, who worstel (struggle) with the inadequacies of the state, birth South Africa's next chapter in which every lineage and narrative have value. We navigate turbulent racialised, ethnicised and citizenship currents, potholed roads and jagged promises of well-being for all in rickety boats, maladapted vehicles and kaal voete (bare feet) together. We are not necessarily seasoned or adequately equipped; and the shoreline of our dreams is unfamiliar, with the horizon blurred and distant. But for those who stay, the vision of a South Africa that supports the well-being of all her citizens inspires us to put our shoulders to the wheel, and to live not only for ourselves but for others. Each one who voluntarily remains behind assumes an active role in envisioning, dreaming, crafting, moulding and building South Africa's next chapter. Each one. And so, during supper when my son asks what the word 'colonisation' means I try simply to chart South Africa's convoluted history. His response — 'not all white people are like that' — is not a negation of our past. Rather his words confirm, as a seven-year-old, that his immediate and direct experience does not align with our 'black and white' histories. They offer a moment of pause, as I come to terms with what my lineage has experienced pre-apartheid, what I have experienced during and post-apartheid and the future my son is living into existence. He demands from me, and you, a conscious recognition of how far we have travelled as South Africans to be here — constructing our futures with clear sight of our histories. His words defy an easy, glib and uncontextualised narrative of what makes us South African. And, like M, he inspires us to accept that we are complex and incomplete as South Africans, whether at home, or in the US, without each other. Professor Joy Owen is the head of the department of anthropology at the University of the Free State.