HOW I SURVIVED THE GOVERNOR

Music: Excess Love By Mercy Chinwo

Brothers and Sisters in Trekking, I almost died today.

After work today, I was so excited about the public holiday on Tuesday as if we didn’t just return from the weekend. I took ‘keke’ to Kurmin Mashi to go take my third doze of injection with a nurse my mother recommended. Afterwards, I went to her (my mother) house to get the clothes I left during the weekend (As person no well, na to go mumcy house ooo. I can hear you say, “go and marry!”, you better mind your business).

I left Kurmin mashi around 6:30pm for U/Maigero. Now, I need you to picture the distance between these two places and the cost of transportation, considering the state of the city right now, which would have not really been a problem if I actually found a vehicle to take me. A journey I am not in a hurry to forget, even if I tried “God abeg, make pesin no continue dey depend on public transport after this year, I take Jesus beg you”.

Bear in mind the ban on bikes and the restrictions on ‘keke’ guys.

Easy, I got to Nepa roundabout from K/Mash. After about an hour of waiting and stopping random ‘Kekes’, with none enroute to new road and decided to start walking. Normally, trekking has never been an issue for me; when I was in school, I trekked from KASU to Kurmin Mashi several times and I did not die, so we move. I walked from Nepa roundabout to Hotel Seventeen before I found a bike man who was ready to take me to new road but was going to turn at Kaduna business school. I had my official laptop and some books in my backpack, strapped to my back, heavy as hell and a polyethene bag filled with the clothes I took from my mother’s house.

Bike man: canji ne a hannun ka ko? Da ka ba ni, so that in ka sauka in juya kawai.

(Translation: He basically asked me to pay him, so that he can just zoom off after he drops me, this is to avoid the police or worse; KASTELEA).

I am a fundamentalist, I like rules and regulations and I follow them to the latter, but at this point I was tired and frustrated, so if there is a ban on bikes and there is one ready to oblige me, I am taking it. With a sigh of relieve, I hopped on the bike with my 30pound load, closing my eyes intermittently and taking deep breaths as the wind hit my face and through my wholly hair, I could feel my sweat dry, the stress radiating off my skin and the pain on my butt cheeks from the injections was eased.

The road from Hotel Seventeen all through KASU is pretty much straight and I was at peace until we pass JAMB office. The bike man and I sighted a KASTELEA vehicle with an officer holding a stick (gora) waiting for us at that Almanar traffic, unfortunately for us it was a red light but the bike man was not ready to stop and the officer was ready to hit anybody on the bike with his Gora because the governor has instructed him to kill anyone riding bike in his city. My bike man with 15years experience and a Ghost rider award to his name, was trying to Swerve or subway surf his way around the waiting cars, the gigantic gora and the red light, threw me off the bike like I was riding on a horse that hated me, right in the middle of the road where the imaginary lines of moving cars intersect, I bruised my knees which punctured a huge hole in my best office trouser according to Peace because I wear it every time, bruised my knuckles too, pain in my wrist and I shattered my laptop screen which I’ll have to explain at the office on Wednesday, Thank God, there was no approaching car or something like that, it would have been fatal. Guys coming out from the Almanar mosque witnessed everything, one even helped me with my clothes, began insulting the officer, they were even more pissed than I was TBH. The bike man was no where to be found, I just walked away from the scene and continued my journey as it was still quite a distance from my place. Don’t forget that I already paid the man ooo, hmmm.

I walked from the scene of the accident to the Bridge on New Road like nothing happened, before a good chongai man offered to drop me at Karji Juction. While I was walking, was when I began to think of all the possible outcome of that event, then I got a little bit scared or not. While it was happening, I wasn’t scared at all, I didn’t think to scream Jesus! Or Mummy! Or Wayyo Allah na! or anything like that. It was like I didn’t care at all. Please you guys should tell me if this is normal or I need therapy.

I am fine and it’s on God as always.

Trekking no dey kill pesin, na bike man wey dey fear KASTELEA with gora.

Please, Celebrate Grace.

P.S. Apologies to my non-Kaduna based readers, I’m sure you get the picture; The journey far. If you see any error, my hand still dey shake abeg.