My car fell into a ditch last Friday.
No, it wasn’t a TGIF thing.
Neither was I high on alcohol nor Shitta marijuana.
I was driving home from work after a hectic week.
GDM is 10 and we are planning big.
From a Marketing Innovation Masterclass to Beach Party, and other things.
I was driving home.
Reflecting. Scheduling. Projecting.
Then I hit this crazy traffic around Tollgate, along Ibadan-Lagos expressway.
From experience, that traffic would extend to Ojodu Berger and beyond,
Even to Kara, the disgusting cow market on the outskirt of Lagos.
That’s about a 9km stretch!
Gosh!
So, I activated my sixth sense and searched for an alternative route.
Google Maps couldn’t help this time around.
I saw Danfo buses and SUVs make a turn somewhere around Ikosi.
I followed them.
I shaa know we were heading in the same direction.
It was a very rough drive and we plowed on like badass.
Until we hit a narrow culvert that could only take one vehicle at a time.
However, about 20 headlights were pointed at the culvert,
Each wanting to take the first shot,
I was among them.
It was a tug of war.
If you know you know.
Some cars were scratched.
Some bumpers smashed.
Side mirrors are broken.
And headlights shattered.
Different strokes for different cars.
I pushed roughly with my rugged Toyota Camry.
Sweating like a guy hacking KGB’s website.
Until it was my turn to scale the tiny culvert
I did scarily, threatening the competing cars to back down,
Luckily, they did, and I smiled inward.
Victorrrrr! I hailed myself.
Awon elei.
No, they didn’t back down.
They left me to my doom.
They understood that part of the road
And left me to fall into oblivion.
My front wheels on the culvert, about to scale off,
Then Gbaam!
The right wheel was in a ditch,
While the other parts of the car dangled in the air.
I was calm. I came out of the car to inspect the scenario.
Sharply, Lagos drivers found a quick alternative and turned the other way.
No one came to help.
My car was sinking, Lagosians turned a ‘deaf eye’.
I was calling, no one came.
Then suddenly.
A monster truck bullied its way into the scene.
And became my neighbor in the ditch.
In a jiffy, six scary hefty guys jumped out of the truck.
Including an aggressive and fully kitted mobile policeman who cocked and raised his rifle.
These guys meant business. I thought.
They yelled and barked orders.
Like the American SWAT bursting into a terrorist camp.
The MOPOL moved behind to stop the on-coming vehicles.
His rifle still threateningly raised,
In a Move-And-I-Fire-You kinda posture.
Hold it!
They looked like daredevil armed robbers in a getaway mood,
Protecting their loot with all it takes.
Of course, they lifted the Truck so it can reverse out of the ditch.
However, my car was an impediment.
That means in order for them to get out, they needed to get me out first.
Again, I smiled in Chinese.
Chin-Chun-Chew.
Then they ordered me into my car,
And told me to reverse out after the count of three.
Yes Sah!!! I obeyed the last order.
Waaaan! Tuuuuu!! Tiriiiii!!!.
They lifted the car and with a reverse gear engagement, I pulled out.
5 minutes later, I was licking Ice-cream and crunching Poff-Puff,
Coasting home in my old Army-Green Toyota Camry,
Shaking my head rhythmically to Baba 70’s Beast of No Nation,
And wondering why unique Angels always show up for me in troubled times.
While in the ditch, I saw cars with different church stickers pass by.
Men of God. Ushers. Deacons. Choristers.
Maybe. Maybe not.
They looked, then turned away.
But help came from unlikely quarters.
The daredevils.
My thoughts are not your thoughts
Nor are your ways my way,
For as the heavens are higher than the earth
So are my ways higher than your ways.
Isaiah 55: 8-9
I rise.
#EKO.
