Once upon a vintage of black and white A time…
There I was on that good evening hauling myself home, tired, worn out from dragging a Toshiba tecra A9 that had given up the ghost mysteriously alongside my books plus a newly hijacked zinox smart laptop that’s supposed to be a replacement to the aged, deceased A9.
Well, as at that time of getting out of the school premises to the express road to get myself into a bus or anything that will carry me to where I stay for N30, the evening wasn’t good yet.
As fate had it, it was few minutes way past 9 in the dark, I was almost falling from weariness. And 20mins + and counting, no bus had come by nor was any in view!
Deep down inside, I had made a bargain with myself on behalf of any conductor or driver that would show up, “I give up on my N30 ministry, I’ll just agree to any reasonable price they say”… Well, ” dem gree show???!”
And so I began to mutter prayers unconsciously as I stood by one of the speed breakers on the express, and there comes this car that’s very much like the others used as cabs. I beckoned at it with hope and wawu! It did stop, I got close and feigned strong face: “oga, N30 o…” and amazingly at minutes to ten this Angel of a man didn’t argue the price but rather just nodded in agreement and signaled that I hop in with his hands as he said something which was unclear to me(but who cares?)
In less than a minute into the approximately 7minutes drive, people of God, I noticed straight up, this man was quite shaky with the steering! (Ayemi o! 😱 What have I entered I said to myself) I eventually figured sir driver is an Hausa man, who’s not good with English pronunciation yet, hence his unclear statements, and likely a learner which will explain his erratic driving as we proceeded.
Right there it all came rushing to me, how Granny actually died from an accident (aeons before my birth) how I had an accident suddenly became real again for that moment, then I recalled how two of my sisters had been involved in accidents that was caused by an Hausa man!
Yeppa! Mogbe! I’m done for, I said to myself. I wanted to ask him to stop, but I said to myself what if he misunderstands, get confused and eventually in a bid to interact lose control? And there was a trailer trailing beside us. Until the trailer went out of sight my heart resided in my mouth.
I just couldn’t wait for the drive to end, wish I could draw the junction I’m stopping at nearer.
But the very thing that prolonged the torment was same thing I’d say saved us. The driver was taking it slow… like he was on a medication of “low driving”, I was saying prayers as he stiffly held the steering like it was an hostage.
To cut the story short, we got to my junction, and I stammered: stop. I came down feeling my self to be sure it hadn’t happen so quick and I’m on the other side. And so I stretched him a hand containing his pay, and surprisingly he said to keep it by the signal of his palm, I was taken aback by this act of kindness, it was very much unexpected!
Well people I trekked the liitle length left home that day, praying God be with him all through his learning and thereafter.
And that taught me a life lesson. Don’t judge a family by the acts of a member, never a book by nor it’s cover nor a laptop by its size nor fried rice by it good looks.
Whatever, but you get the point. I went into a panic mode that nearly gave me a cardiac arrest because I had this wrong mentality that had made me attach: “bad driver“to every someone that was an Hausa and I got proven wrong big time! As even a learner drove with dire caution against my beliefs and still turned out to be generous too!
Moral: Before you judge, learn to understand before you conclude.
P.S: The N30 provided groundnuts.