As I write this piece, I am confined to a bed in a private hospital in Abuja.
The question then is, how did a strong energetic man find himself confined like a helpless being. In life, things happen without your knowledge but with you awareness.
We had closed from church service and heading home when along the Kubwa expressway, my Jeep started misfiring. l asked my driver what could the problem be and he pointed at the fuel gauge. “There sir, their is still fuel in the car” he complained. Where the car stopped was dark and l asked myself, why is the government not doing anything about lighting up the high ways and streets? Anyway, few minutes cooling, the car started again and we were cruising home happily until we made a turn into the road into the service lane near the Area One end of the National Stadium, Abuja, suddenly the car stopped again. This made my driver to start pushing the car towards a more visible area. It got to a stage, l had to join him to push the car. We managed to push the heavy jeep until perspiration and tiredness overwhelmed us. At this time of the night, the time was 9 .30 pm and the surrounding was not too encouraging.
The atmosphere was very unpredictable so l encouraged my driver so that we can push the car further as we got pass the bridge. Reason being that hoodlums and homeless youths convert such places into temporary residence. As we pushed pass the bridge, l asked the driver to go and buy some liters of fuel. Before he locked up the car, a rickety police van stopped by and cautioned against parking the car over night at that spot warning that it may be vandalised by hoodlums. l told the police Sergeant that once we get more fuel, the car would be removed from the vicinity. Not long after the police van left, my driver went in search of the fuel. At this time, l was standing all alone on the lonely service Lane everywhere was pitched dark; there was “ a mystic feeling flowing in the air” according to legendry musician, Bob Marley. As l was waiting for the driver to bring the fuel, two young boys walked past and greeted me. l responded but was tempted to talk them into a friendship discussion ,just to keep me company while waiting for the arrival of my driver. While still waiting, l received a call and went into the car to answer the call. It was while answering the call that a young man with Hausa accent came close to the car window which was lowered a little and showed me a dazzling Jack knife and added” hey Oga, bring your phone and all the money with you” instantly, l shouted at him, “ did your father buy a phone or keep money with me?” Before he could take the next step, l banged the door on his frame and followed up by bouncing on him. At this time, his jackknife had flew off his hand and l grabbed him by the shirt. l also punched his eyes with my two fingers which is the natural measurement of the eye space. The punch made him to scream and behind me were two other members of his gang. They related in Hausa while my first prey was screaming” wayo allah” . One of them, a much taller among them attacked me from the back while l pinned down the first hoodlum and stabbed me on my right arm so that l can loose my grip of the suspect. Also, they were more interested in my Blackberry . Unknown to me, the stab had cut my vein, which made me to bleed so excessively. My white dress got soaked in m own pool of blood. It was when they saw the blood all over my dress that they carried their mate and escaped with my phone. The loss of blood was by then increasing and l was left bleeding profusely. l did not feel any pain but noticed that something like fluid was pouring out from my right arm. As it gushes, so are the collated blood were dropping from under my long sleeve like thick mucous. The blood flowed into my white shoes and made it look as if l stepped into a marshy ground.
At this point, l was already loosing strength and loosing concentration and getting dizzy.
l walked back to lock up the car. l tried to flag down every approaching car but the first three increased their speed on sighting me in my pool of blood immediately they got to my point on seeing me being bath in blood. Thank goodness, there are still good Samaritans in the land and he drove and parked his car to assist me. They were three men in the car and they suggested carrying me to the National hospital. On our way, we sighted my driver with a gallon of fuel. He saw me inside the good Samaritans car and l noticed the surprise in his face. Not too far away We sighted the same patrol team and we asked them to help secure my driver and the car. At the National hospital, we were told about the strike action embarked upon by medical workers. At this time l had passed out due to much loss of blood. According to the doctors at the private hospital l was later referred, “ some godly doctors had identified me at the National hospital and carried out operational six stitches that helped to stop the blood flow” At the Tolbert private hospital in Gaduwa Estate, l was told the stitches were professionally carried out and immediately they transfused two pints of blood. While still on my sick bed, l felt the saving hand of God. l asked myself, the boys that attacked me just to snatch a common phone, were they not the lazy lot roaming the streets of the country? Those hoodlums that attacked me are they not part of the lazy generation that was supposed to be provided for by the government? More painful is the fact that it was only the phone that they removed leaving more attractive items like load and other expensive items in the bags in the car. I thank all those who had showed love and prayed for my quick recovery.