WE HAD AN ACCIDENT

been one helluva week.

Returning to Abuja from Enugu on Saturday - just i and the driver, bus crash. We rammed a bike speeding down, and then headed for a nearby tree.

When the catastrophe crescendoed, we alighted. Dust and blood; reminiscent of the Biafra struggle, and how South-Eastern earth became red. Bike passenger sprawled this way, not moving; and where was bike rider??

Someone started a campaign to push the bus backwards. Everyone came together. Rolled it backwards, and the guy fell out from where he hung, mangled. I couldn't look.

The best thing to do was cry, but I guess that required a special skill I didn't possess at the time. So I just fell on my knees.

Thank God I was spared?? That wasn't my preoccupation. I was more like... God, wsup?! Is this the only functional kind of relationship one can have with you? Just because i didn't pray this morning, you disgrace me this way?? So it's.. pray and be safe, don't pray and get your ass kicked??

The two injured were evacuated to the hospital. The converging mob who witnessed it were smoking like fuel... lunging for the slightest scratch of a matchstick. I'd tried to restrain them from vandalizing the bus; that i promise not to run away. They turned on me. One said if i uttered one more word... Big ole Jude went dumb. Kpichikom!

Driver had to make his way to the police station to turn himself in... to avoid any mob action. And that was were he would be for days to come. Passenger woke up along the way, and was only in shock. Her phone was picked up by someone, her husband called, and he came and took his beloved away.

Bike guy? We were to wait on him. Right from the back of the evacuating truck, a drip was put on him. Doctor was cleaning his bloodied mouth; his teeth had torn every corner. A mighty-ass gash on his head. Fractured fore limb. His belly jerked up and down, as he unconsciously struggled to stay with us on this side of existence. I watched in desolation.

The driver who hit him had brought him; that was clear. I guessed everyone now wondered... So who's this guy? I wasn't quick to say i was with the driver; i simply said i was concerned. Fine. I hung around. I couldn't go into the ward where they took him and look at his face... Too gory.

I went to the Doctor's office later on: How far? He said if only i could go back to the scene and search for his phone... It was necessary to contact his family and have them around, so that if blood transfusion, if surgery... someone would be present to approve.

But it was possible he didn't have a phone, Doc!

Either ways, though, i wasn't returning to that scene.

If blood is the ish, Doc, here i am; take mine! I felt all the too much milk i'd been taking all my life would finally server a purpose - other than making my fart the sexiest in sub-saharan Africa.

What's your blood group, Gee? I wasn't sure. B+ i guessed. Or O. In any case, just check.

Nurse took me upstairs to the lab. May i mention here, that the entire hospital wasn't fit to be even a mad man's living quarters. Aiit.

She tied my wrist and drew out black blood. The way it looked, i thought that might be Z-. But she came out confirming it was indeed B+, which meant we weren't going to proceed: the guy that needed it was O.

So i make my way to the police station to see if the driver could do the donation. He was O quite alright - the police guy said that made him a universal donor or something. But then, he said he wasn't releasing the guy to me. He said... this guy can't donate blood. Look at him sef, he needs blood!

True, the dude was still shaking.

We tried to explore a buying option, but the doctor wasn't interested. His argument against that move wasn't succinct, but i figure... there are diseases everywhere, and this crappy hospital surely has no way of knowing if a blood sample contains the ebola virus disease. Plus, he said it was fresh blood that we needed.

What could i do? Make a deposit, go away, hope for the best.

I prayed.

Back at the police station, I was told bail was out of the question until the victim woke up. I left to scout for a hotel, to at least keep the luggage I’d been carrying about.

NEPA in Obollo Afor is as rare as water in a desert. Therefore, what patronage, what revenue… would make a motel run on generator 24/7? Hotels and motels – whatever – they stayed dark through the day, and generators came on at 6:30. I slept.

When light came, I plugged my phone, and then it came on. Call came in: the police.

They’d been trying to reach me. Bad News: the guy gave up the ghost at 6:15pm. His family just left… we all tried to reach you to no avail. A meeting for 10am the next day – Sunday – was fixed. 10am.

For the first time in YEARS my Sunday routine was broken: no church for me.

At the meeting they demanded to see the driver, but it’s not police practice to reveal him. They could hurt him. Even I – the negotiator – was at risk. There were about ten or more of them… family members… all youths. No father, no mother in sight. Down at the negotiating table, everyone who spoke started with… of course no amount of money would bring back the dead. I know that. They quoted a figure, and looked to me for response. I went… of course no amount of money would bring back the dead… They liked my talk; because it was theirs anyway.

Again I went… I’m unable to negotiate this, frankly speaking, given that we’re looking at compensating for a life lost. How dare I begin to bring down the sum! In any case, my brothers (fortunately for us, we were all from the same part of the state), I would have loved you to see the driver in question, and you would realize he won’t be able to raise much. Why don’t we leave it at 400k?

They mutter for a while, and then one speaks up: 500, and that’s final!

Okay, I said. The driver brings half, and the company brings half. So, I would make the journey tomorrow to the company, and see if I can get their half. Let’s meet again on Friday, 10am. The meeting rose.

When I told the driver what there solution was and how much he’d have to cough up, his head dropped. Surely, he couldn’t do it. But I felt family, friends, even his villagers in faraway Kwara State had to get involved. I mean, you don’t kill someone every day! A life is a precious thing to take. When you do take one, even if accidentally, it should jog your life reasonably. My guy saw no end in sight for his ordeal behind bars.

It was past 1pm, Sunday… I went to stand on the road, hoping to get transport to Abuja. Only rickety vehicles were pausing to ask me where I was headed. Even in war times, I doubt I’d hitch such clumsy ride. I went back to my motel room. At 6:30pm Manchester United were still struggling with West Ham. I watched with a haphazard focus. It felt guilty to do what I loved… given that our bus had only just taken a life.

Monday morning I was out. Already at Lokoja, I got a text. It was an alert. 520k. Wow! Quite thoughtful of the VP. I ditched the Peace Bus I was in for another that was going down south. During that interlude, I met Chisom. She was heading to Abuja, and she felt it would have been more fulfilling if we bumped into each other in Abuja where we could spend time… Little did she know… that… her smile… was an oasis of peace in the whole misfortune.

So, back in Obollo, our Friday meeting came up to Tuesday and, not long after that, driver and I were heading to Abuja. Boy did he thank me! He cancelled all the misfortune that probably lie in my way up to the day I die. So, back in Abuja, I took up my BB to check up on the girl who had probably missed me… she was nowhere to be found. For the third or fourth time, she had deleted me. With a cancellation of my misfortunes, and she gone simultaneously, it’s probably good riddance.