I stepped out of my parents’ gate near the expressway, ready to catch a bus back to Enugu after the holidays. The moment I got to the bus stop, goosebumps covered my skin. Nothing bad had happened to me that day, so the feeling made no sense. Still, I listened to it.
I decided to delay. I said a few prayers and just stood there. Buses kept pulling up, drivers calling “Enugu?” I shook my head to all of them. Even the tanker driver who’d later cause the crash drove past and asked if I was going. I didn’t answer.
After 30 minutes of waiting, I finally entered a yellow bus with only a few passengers. We took off, and our driver was flying, overtaking trailers like he was in a race.
As we approached Proda flyover the exact spot where accidents always happen — something in me snapped. I started shouting at the driver to slow down. “This place is dangerous!” He reduced speed. A car overtook us, and one passenger started quarreling with me to leave the driver alone. I told him straight: “If you want to kpai, kpai alone. Don’t drag the rest of us with you.”
Then we heard it — a loud bang. The tanker that had driven past me earlier, the same one our driver wanted to overtake, lost its brakes and lost control. It slammed into the bus beside it. Because our driver had slowed down, he was able to hit the brakes in time.
No major casualties, and I thank God for that. I pray for the driver who didn’t make it. Rest in peace ✌️🕊️. And respect to that tanker driver for managing to control it enough to limit the damage.
May God keep protecting all of us.
You must be logged in to post a comment.