How My Road Trip Became A Death Trap
Must be thinking why would anyone in his right senses embark on such a journey in the first place? well, I’ll tell you, but before I do so, few events transpired prior to the trip, one of which was a kid who’d been crying since my arrival at the bus park.
Her cry got louder than usual. A girl of about 8 years old (let’s call her Sadiya) sobbing in the back of this new-looking white 18-seat Toyota Hiace bus.
Her mum sat next to her. Sadiya has been crying due to the deteriorating condition of her ill mum. Sadiya and her mum visited her aunt who recently gave birth here in Lagos. Now they have to cut short their visit and leave for Abuja, a few kilometers away from where I’m headed, Kaduna state, both in North-central and North-west Nigeria respectively.
Sadiya’s mum gave up the ghost. It was 9:34 pm local time. All passengers’ luggage had been packed and the driver getting set to arrange passengers before kick-starting the journey.
The death of Sadiya’s mum meant the trip is put on hold. Sadiya’s cry became louder as sympathizers stormed the scene en mass to console and also take her mum’s corpse away.
I imagine how it’ll feel to witness the demise of your mum right in front of you after going through excruciating pains talk more of being Sadiya who is just 8.
Everyone’s luggage was offloaded to give way for Sadiya, her mum, and her brother-in-laws’ (who’d accompany them to Abuja).
It also means the bus is short of three passengers and has to fill up before the journey commences. Luckily, two couples showed up a few minutes later, and that was enough to get the bus going because along the way, the driver could fill up the last spot.
It’s now 10:46 pm. As we assemble to take our rightful seats…
An outburst of Roaring laughter ensued.
Puzzled why such would happen considering the mood everyone is in after the demise of Sadiya’s mum and also, having been in the park for long hours and how fatigued everyone felt.
I walked over to see what was funny, and there, sat a young man(one of the passengers) fast asleep, with his face dripping with sweat. Apparently, they’d been trying to wake him up to enable everyone take their rightful seat. His unresponsiveness prompted laughter, looking at him you could tell he’s Mai kaya (Load carrier in Hausa language). People pay them to carry their loads. Their job is physically demanding so they tend to overdose on hard drugs to meet up.
“E don take kolombo” (he’s taken kolombo) says an elderly man as he burst into laughter.
Drugs like tramadol and kolombo(local gin) are widely taken to make them feel numb which enables them to carry out their unimaginable and physically demanding work like lifting 100kg bags of rice for a long distance.
He eventually woke up and we all got into the bus and started the journey around 10:57 pm.
The bus is headed North (Abuja, Kaduna, before Kano) from Lagos, western Nigeria but will pass through Ogun, Ibadan, Osun, Ekiti, Ondo, Kogi state respectfully.
If you’re still wondering about the purpose of my trip which, I was going for my immediate younger brother’s Passing Out Parade (POP) and presidential commissioning into the Nigerian Army as a 2nd lieutenant. It took place on Thursday, 6th October 2022. He’d be graduating from the renowned Nigerian Defence Academy. After five years.
I had to be there. Fortunately for me, it’s happening in the state I was given birth to. I left Kaduna state 22 years ago and the nostalgia felt great going back there.
Also, I took a night trip knowing by daybreak, I’d be able to enjoy the land scenery of major uplands, hills, and plateaux Nigeria is endowed with which consoled the initial setbacks encountered before the journey commenced.
I mean scenery like this
I aimed to capture as many as possible not until after encountering a life-defining experience
Many of which could be described as graphic but all are real life events that occurred on the trip.
My bus arrived Lokoja(north central) — Abuja(federal capital city) road where we met the unexpected.
The trip came to a grand halt.
An absolute logjam. On the right lane, were trucks of different sizes parked on both sides with their engines switched off. Some have been there for over a week. This was never envisaged. Few vehicles that could utilize the small available space to reverse back, did.
The road is blocked. Submerged by water. No vehicle can go through. So you’re left with two options.
One of which is to take a bike (best option if your luggage is handy) and the other is to take a locally built canoe (if you have a sizeable load or traveling in numbers) operated by the locals.
Here’s how the canoe looks like
Several stranded passengers narrated how they had been trapped for days or how their fear of water prevented them from using either of the two options to pass through the submerged area and continue their journey.
It’s Wednesday. It was a race against time to get to Kaduna state for my brother’s graduation. Therefore, I decided to bike through the submerged area. Mind you, this was never part of the budget, I had to leave my bus behind to continue my trip.
I carefully selected a mature-looking rider with a strong bike, as that would alleviate the concern of getting drowned or the engine going out in the submerged area.
Before boarding any bike, the bikers would inform you of the risk involved, prepare your mind for the worst, and if you decided to go ahead, they would quote you a price.
I’ve already spotted a bike man I liked. A man I would describe as a savage (equally sane and insane demeanor).
And as expected, briefed me on what lies ahead and if I’m down. Yes, I am, I replied.
It took about 20mins of 150km/hour for the biker to get into the submerged area.
The area was a natural disaster. To the bank of the area were canoes loading passengers while a glance in front of me were bikes just like the one I’m on. An almost 100% risk to cross over.
I was told the flooded area is a community.
I saw houses like this
And also, a filling station is almost covered with water
I was on the flooded bank so I could afford to take these pictures. I felt a bit relieved. We moved further. Buckle up, it’s about to be a crazy ride… said the bike man.
He increased his speed as I put my smartphone inside a water-proof bag then inside my school bag I hung at my back.
The road we are on is built on a hill, yet water got up to that level. To my far left and right were lower lands, residential buildings sprawled out. I mean, bungalows were completely submerged.
To my far left was a story building with a figure that caught my attention.
A story building almost submerged to the rooftop. There was a man on the roof. He sat with his knees shooting upwards and both palms on his cheeks with his elbows resting on his thighs.
He’s just one of the victims of the popular yearly flood besieging North East, Central, and most time southern parts of the country during raining season. It coincides with the opening of a Dam in Cameroon, a neighboring country.
I wasn’t done soaking in what could be going through the mind of that man when I noticed the number of bikes on the road had reduced. I counted up to ten initially but could only see four. And those four? parked.
There was a wave.
The bike I’m on had to stop almost mid-way. It happens that this wave is one of the major causes of casualties and if you get caught in it, you’re gone. You’ll be swept away. Just like those six bikes, I could no longer see.
Visible in the wave, I lost count of human corpses being washed away. They range from all ages. Kids, teenagers, and adults (male and female) Few with their fingers halfway clenched. Majority with clenched fists. Others with hands stretched out. Eyes stark white. Teeth gnashed firmly. You could tell it was a struggle before giving up the ghost.
Dead bodies everywhere. But there I was, right in the middle of a wave. With an almost zero chance to make it through the submerged area.
The immediate town you get to after crossing is koton-karfe. So the bike I boarded together with others stood firm till the wave swept through with lifeless bodies, few meters from where I stood.
It got me thinking, No proper burial for those corpses. All Gone. But those are fellow human beings like I am. They are gone. But here I am, still breathing. Looking at the faces of the wave survival like me, they just want to get to the other side of the flood and continue their journey. Survival instincts kicked in for everyone. All men for themselves.
The panic was at all-time high. The wave swept through and we began our journey. We crossed over and I got into Kaduna at about 8:13 pm. In time for my brother’s graduation which will take place the next day.
It went great.
I narrated my ordeal to my brother and it was all laughs, crazy I know.
My hope is, the flood would go down before my trip back home.
So I took Friday to rest.
It’s Saturday, Prepared to move. Kefas (My brother’s friend) drove me to a bus park ill board a bus back home.
I had already called a close contact of mine, an inspector in the Nigerian Police to narrate my journey because his state(Kogi) is at the heart of the flood. Also, as a force personnel, he’d be vast with routes to salvage my quagmire. He gave me three possible options. First of which is to take a bus to Onitsha(Anambra state, southeast) and then board another bus to Lagos(expensive option).
The second is to go as I came. A cab to koton-karfe(border town and center of the flood) then use a boat or bike to cross over into Lokoja(Kogi state) before boarding a bus back to Lagos.
Lastly, he advised I take a bus that’ll pass through Niger state and connect to the outskirt of Kogi which is quite far. But It seems to be the best option compared to others. He advised I don’t take the Birnin-gwari route which he described as a “terrorist den”. Where kidnappings and all sorts of heinous crimes take place.
At the park, I asked the driver of the bus I’d board the route he’ll pass through, he informed me he’ll pass through Niger state. Perfect! I said to myself. I paid for my ticket.
It took just 30 minutes of the ride for me to figure out the driver lied to me. Not just me, but every passenger. The driver is taking the flooded route. Everyone on the bus became audibly angry at the driver for lying. But He assured everyone that the flood isn’t as bad as it was days ago. vehicles are passing through. Although that was later confirmed to be true, another reservation was how old this bus appears. You could tell the driver is just getting by. The sounds emanating from the engine and how he struggles to reverse the steering on many occasions.
Then we approach North of Koton-karfe, the border town. Around about 10:40 pm
The steering cut off!
The driver lost control and my bus ran into this thick forest. It was dark. Good thing is, there were more weeds than trees. He was able to match the brake and the bus stopped.
Now we all are in the middle of a bush in a foreign land, deep into the night, and would have to wait till the next morning to get any possible help.
Everyone started grumbling, voicing their frustrations about how the driver not only lied but also deliberately drove us in a bus he was aware isn’t road worthy for such a long trip.
For me, all I could think of is how to get the hell out of that place.
It’ll be a devastating risk to pass a night there. I was on the lookout for any opportunity to dash out.
It didn’t take long before a single headlight burst into scene from afar, coming towards our direction and that was how everyone took to their heels. They thought it was one of the notorious highway robbers. I did too, then I noticed the bike man waving and yelling “I mean no harm!”.
I stopped running and moved closer, he inquired what went wrong, and after explaining to him, he walked to the scene where the bus is parked. I noticed this man had a sword hanging on his back. At the Sight of it by me and other passengers, took off again hahaha! Everyone was scared. He kept screaming.. “The sword is for self-defense, I mean no harm!” his English is broken. He’s Fulani(herdsman). A tribe predominantly from Northern Nigeria. And down here, there’s this stereotype when profiling all Fulanis. They’re dangerous people. It played a role in the whole mistrust.
Needed to listen to him express his intentions and continuously state how he meant no harm. It was all gut feeling for me at that point. I noticed he wasn’t sober. Weed, drugs, or both. But heck, he’s got a bike and I need to get out from there.
It’s now 12:13 am. Other passengers saw me conversing with Fulani man(Dogo) and then came around.
At that point, something dawned on me. Don’t know what or why but I needed to get some words out there to those close to me about my situation.
That’s unlike me. Hate bothering anyone or make them to get worried about me. But this is a different case.
I’m about to board a bike of Dogo who is overdosed on drugs. Midnight. In the middle of a town, I’d never imagined finding myself stuck.
I whip out my phone and explained to Blessing(my sister), Daniel(my brother I just visited), Zinny(church member), and Destiny(my colleague, the most unserious dude I’d ever know lol)
Then I shared my current location with them all via WhatsApp.
I could sense the panic in them aside from Daniel lol. It’s not intentional, I consoled myself but words needed to get out for my sticky situation.
Another passenger indicated interest to join me. Dogo’s so nice he only asked me to give him money to help him get fuel. What a seamless price anchoring(making the price of a service/commodity make logical sense) that was. My copywriting instinct kicked in. I felt the need to reciprocate his kindness even as I needed every help possible. Dogo is not a marketer but his genius no-pressure pricing was something to behold.
Saying he needed my money for fuel to enable him to transport us struck a nerve. Others might exploit the sheer opportunity. In reverse just as other bikers milking stranded travelers in that area.
Dogo also narrated how he takes care of his cattles which he informed me were in the bush a few kilometers from our location. Left his herds and was on his way to get himself food with his bike.
Together with the other passenger, we were able to cut a good price Dogo accepted.
The inevitable disaster
I could sense it. Gigantic potholes and rough terrain. The road is a disaster in waiting especially for two-wheeled unfocused bikers. Remember Dogo isn’t sober, visibly struggling to see clearly. On both sides of the road were heavy-duty trucks parked.
Before I could say jack, Dogo was heading to the ground, he climbed a bump and his shaky hands ensured the fall is inevitable.
Lucky for us, we jumped out before the bike slid right under the monstrous-looking heavy-duty truck.
Ah well, I sighed. I’ve seen enough to get myself worried nor panic for any possible eventualities.
That disaster was gone.
We approached the flooded area and Dogo dropped us off and bid us farewell.
It was time to cross over. I observed the water isn't much. But still wavy.
I opted for a bike, again. Time check,1:43 am. It was dark. Flooded. Yet I was calm.
Was it previous experience playing a role in my sudden calmness? I dunno. But I could count my breath now.
I surrendered to my reality.
I accepted everything as they were. I tried not to “wish” things were better. I just told myself whatever the case, it was fine.
It became an internal dialogue.
Peace swept true. Not bothered nor over-complicating things with thoughts. It’s past midnight and I’m about boarding a bike to pass through a wavy water in a place far away from home.
On our way through the flood, we fell thrice. Got a few injuries. But we made it to Lokoja.
It’s 3:12 am. The city was quiet. Everyone is asleep. Early Sunday. I remember whipping out my phone again but this time to update my status which read:
God has a hilarious sense of humor. And why wouldn’t he?
This is why i laugh so hard in adversity you’d think i”m insane.
And why wouldn’t you?
Things are the exact way you make of it.
Choice is yours. Always has been.
During which I was filled with gratitude, bursting out with laughter. I felt like a new person entirely. You don’t go through all that and come out the same.
I called the Inspector and he directed me to a park where I slept till daybreak. Hungry was foreign. Never felt it. Just wanted to get home. Which I eventually did on Sunday evening.
Got home and had a proper bath. Discovered dry wounds on both legs, Injuries never felt due to my numbness all through the journey.
Sadiya and her mum came into my thoughts. What if her mum was able to fight through and travel along but get stuck in that flood? Maybe her demise was timed by the almighty?
Lost in thoughts. Was it the prayers on my behalf by Zinny and others that made me survive the journey? Was it my resolve? Was it down to me surrendering to the situation? Sincerely, I can’t say and doubt If I’d ever do, however, I write this with a grateful heart, less scared of death nor do I take life too seriously to be preoccupied with emotional stressors.
But this is me thinking out loud. Happy to still be alive and continue being of service to not just my family and friends but also, to business owners driving sales & revenues through emails.
