10.
The tarred road rushed under the "Bull" at a speed of about 124km per hour for about 10 minutes, then, I approached a junction where true Nigerian roads began. My negotiation to the right had a warm welcome from an unfriendly pot-hole, that narrated the full stories of deserted communities around. The Bull dangled it's way around under my tutelage. A 54 year old country still discussing roads of this nature certainly requires a spiritual check-up. Instead of this, my leaders are busy writing letters to themselves, exposing their mental illnesses. Some just reminded US that they attended Open Universities, so, open letters ain't out of place.
Oh, by the way, what's this thing I'm hearing about introducing Letter Writing as an independent course in Universities? Ai...I still love my country. Afterall, that's why I'm hurrying down to serve her.
The journey continued unperturbed and the Bull groaned at my command. My "brothers-in-black" seemed to respect my NYSC status that was flaunted by my emblemed cap lying conspicuously on my dashboard. Or, was it my lawyer's wig that lay with it? Well, whichever was doing the introduction did it well, for my brothers avoided me like a plague as soon as I got close enough for them to see the emblems. I simply drove along and watched them do their "primary assignment"; collecting bribes from wayfarers!
A man stood right in the middle of the road, shovel in left hand and a stretched right hand. Obviously, he's been filling the gutter which lay right in the heart of the road. I scurried around for some "change" and found the pieces of notes totalling 90 Naira, which I got from buying an MTN recharge card with a boldly inscribed "100 Naira" on it. I had paid an extra 10 Naira...maybe for the paper, I guess. Hmmmm... I gave the worker some of it, he frowned, looked at me as I drove past, and pointed ahead in a "please get out of here" format. I simply smiled and drove away , feeling like the biblical widow who offered a coin.
Signposts kept revealing how closer to "Hell" I had dared myself to. Akamkpa, Biase, Ugep...
Just then, I picked up my mobile phone to make a call, a habit I'm still learning to quit...operating my gadgets while driving. While I dialed the digits of my colleague's number, I noticed that the network indicator kept losing weight. The bars hurried out as like a dog in heat that has sighted a mate. Finally, the display changed to "Emergency Only". I dropped my phone and looked up. The road had completely changed. The environment looked dead. No more houses and busy streets, no market stalls, no signposts, no human activities, just my Bull and her commander. Just then, I saw a small rickety war-time sign ahead. It must have been fixed in colonial times since age had its hand on it. I could barely see what was written on it until I was about 100 metres away from it. A faded inscription of white on black read "Obubra 2km"!!! My heart skipped about 13 and a half beats. My Bull entered 2 "potholes" due to my distraction. This threw me back to senses, though sights of demons flocked my thoughts.
This was suicide because I voluntarily kept my feet on the gas pedal, pushing my Bull towards the unknown planet. Soon, figures of human-like figures began to pop around. The dialect around sounded like the beating of an old talking drum. I knew, most certainly, I had arrived Hell. So, I ordered the Bull straight to Satan's office. This, I guess, was a terribly idea. As soon as I stepped unto the dusty dead "tarred-road" towards it, I remembered that my NYSC Identity Card lay right under my pillow at home!
I stopped in front of where i prefered to call "the seat of hell", the NYSC LI's office. Behold, Satan sat boldly on his throne!
No comments:
Post a Comment