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Saturday, 2 April 2016


(Image source: news.motorbiker.org)

15 March, 2015 is a day I won’t forget in a hurry. It was probably the strangest day I have ever had, as you’ll discover at the end of this article. I woke up that fateful day, just as I had always done, since the day I was born. Only difference that day was, I had planned to visit a friend. I had last seen her in camp. What made it special wasn’t the fact that I was visiting her but the fact that I could finally use some of those fighting skills I had learnt  as a kid from the likes of Jackie Chan, Jet Li and of course, Steven Segal (yes, be very afraid). You must be wondering what my fighting skills had got to do with this visit. Well, she had a boyfriend… a soldier by profession. I’ve heard a lot of stories of how friendly visits get awry. It usually happens towards the end of the visit, just when the visitor steps out of the house, a blow would connect to his jaw (best case scenario) or a blow that covers every facet of his face (mehn...this is not even the worst case scenario, they’re more). I don’t really know the impact (if any), the fighting skills of Jackie would have on a Nigerian Soldier but I had little options in my basket of choices.

I stepped out of the house and I found myself frying under the heat of the sun within minutes. Fortunately for me, I found a taxi sooner than I thought. I had estimated a ten minute journey but I have a history of making wrong estimations, so it didn’t surprise me when the journey took longer. I reached my destination after about thirty minutes, I alighted from the vehicle and I almost made it to the stairs of the pedestrian bridge, when I remembered that I hadn’t paid the cab driver. I turned back immediately and I met the stern eyes of the driver that translated, “You’re lucky I didn’t come with my suya knife”. As if on cue, the passengers also gave me ‘the look’. “Oga no vex but I just dey give you this look, so that this driver go pity me collect N100 instead of N150”, I quickly read the mind of one of the passengers. He’s probably dead by now.

I took out my phone, dialled her number and I told her where I was. Before I could blink, she was at the junction. I initially wanted to hug her but I thought I saw a red laser light on my chest, so I shook her hands instead. We strolled to her place, which was about a stone’s throw away. Yea I know most of my friends would be like, “Oh! It’s Kreed, nothing happened in that room” and bla bla bla. Well, what I’m about to say might stun them and actually change their opinions about me, because ‘something’ did happen. I actually drank the Coca-Cola she offered me. Yep, I can see some of them fainting now and I’m feeling so badass right now. Anyways, we talked about a lot of things, watched a movie, etc. I had a nice time, I didn’t expect less and no, I didn’t want more than I got either. Maybe some other time :-D.
Then it was time to go and suddenly, my heart started to beat like some sound track from a song produced by David Guetta. If I had no ribs, I would probably be heartless today because it almost beat out of my body. What was it going to be? I hadn’t been in a fight for years. I had forgotten all my skills (oh wait, I had none). This was going to be a walk over. I had packed my stuff but I was hesitant and then she pushed me towards the door. Just then, what I had feared all day long happened. In split seconds, faster that I had imagined, the door shattered in my face. I thought the dude was going to let me open the door but obviously he had other plans or maybe he just couldn’t wait any longer. I tried to protect my face but it was a metal door, so I cowered in fear as I struggled against the impact.  Just when I was expecting the worse to happen, I heard a female voice say, “I’m sorry”. I looked up and it was a girl, my friend quickly introduced her as her neighbour. She apologised profusely but I told her it was nothing, just like a boss that I am. Remember when I said the door shattered? Well, it didn’t. It only opened, like every other door does.

As soon as I stepped out, I heaved a huge sigh of relief. That was the closest thing to a dent on my undefeated streak (the record reads 0-0-0). I looked across the street and I noticed the traffic scenario was in a heightened state. Everybody was running away from something my friend and I didn’t know. Then I looked up to the sky and I knew why. Ever seen a baby cry for his/her missing toy? He/she does so with all the energy she can garner. The sky was about to do same. I was afraid I wouldn’t find a bike and my fears were confirmed when after twenty minutes, I was still by the road side waving my hands, while the motorists kept speeding past me, like I was just a scare-crow or a fan in a motor GP circuit. If only they knew that I was their future president. Anyway, a motorcyclist finally stopped five minutes later. I told him I was heading to the junction but he told me he wasn’t heading in that direction. I told him I was going to double the price but he rejected my offer. I brought out one thousand naira note and he told me to hop on. “Money stops nonsense.” I said to myself, in Oritsefemi’s voice.

I never knew the power of N1k note up until that night. That explains why I jumped from the first floor to the ground, when my friend showed it to me in secondary school. Money also starts nonsense. Back to my story, the biker suddenly got hyperactive. We drove through manhole-like potholes; speed bumps suddenly became mere zebra crossings, we drove between two on coming vehicles and all I did was laugh. I only drank Coca-Cola remember? I didn’t know speed could make one high. They were many close shaves but I’ll mention this few. Oh I almost forgot to mention but I’m almost certain we went under a trailer once or twice. I wish I could bet my life savings on this but I have none. It happened in split seconds though, so I can’t really say I’m sure it did happen but I’m almost certain it did.
So when I saw other bikers just speeding past us, I couldn’t help but wonder, if there was actually a denomination greater than the N1k note. Maybe they were offered more N1k notes. The later was a more plausible theory however, as most of them had 2 passengers on their bikes. However, this troubled my mind even more. How could they be so fast with two passengers? I was the only passenger on my bike, yet they made my Bolt of a biker look like Toure…no, not Yaya. I postulated that maybe, it had something to do with my weight but that theory wouldn’t fly (couldn’t make it past the preliminary stage as I scrutinised it). Some of you do know that I weigh lighter than some women’s Ghana-must-go…sorry hand bag. In fact, I was surprised that I was still on that bike with the pace it was going. I had expected the wind to lift me off from the bike into the heavens. Maybe God didn’t want the biker to feel like he had missed rapture.

I remember vividly, the journey from the junction to her house took fifteen minutes but this biker covered that distance in just five minutes, even with the heavy traffic!! It is journeys like these that convince atheists that there is God. By the time I alighted, I felt my heart beating in my tummy. It was time to settle my bills. I gave him the NGN1000 note and then I asked him for my change. The next morning, I woke up on a hospital bed with a black eye and all I could remember was…okay, there was no hospital but I felt a bit reluctant releasing the money. I still was thankful; I didn’t fall into the hands of a merciless Nigerian soldier, neither did I fly off the bike into a speeding trailer. It had never felt so good to be home in one piece.

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