THE ACCIDENT

 In my final year in school, I had the honor of being made a prefect. I was given a position of authority, some level of responsibility. In those days, it was a real privilege to be made a prefect. We were like the chosen few. It was a position of respect. Even our mates reckoned with this position of responsibility. The school authorities expected us to be at our best behavior, and to set the right precept for our mates and juniors. The authority therefore frowned at any occasional misdemeanor from any prefect.

My duty as the prefect require that I go into the city once a week. I chose Fridays because we close early, and I get the chance to get back to school on time. So every Friday afternoon (12pm) I’m at the VP’s office (Mr. Oladele) to get the money needed for the trip. He was always generous. I loved the job. And apart from the generosity of the VP, I make sure that I go to my Father’s office. My weekend was always ‘Nairaful’.

Tuesday, 12th October, 1999. We had completed our GCE examinations, we only had Yoruba language exam to write; that was on friday, the 15th. I was back in school, since I had an exam to write on friday, I decided to go on that Tuesday, 12th October.

As always, I go alone. But on this particular day, a friend, and also a prefect, Makanju, wanted to buy mosquito net, so we decide to go together. We got to dugbe, bought the material, and headed straight to his mum's office (and my dad's later of course), I do my weekly business there. On our way, there is a particular busy and narrow, one-way road that we had to pass through. Makanju was in front, I, at the back walking against the traffic.

Then all of a sudden, some meters away; an old Land Rover jeep lost control; the break failed, coming towards us.

People in front were trying to get out of the way. The road was crowded with traders’ stalls and wares; it was really narrow and difficult to find a leeway. Makanju who was just a couple of pace ahead of me was able to evade this charging automobile; I could not.

I was hit and thrown on the traders’ stalls nearby.

The look on st. maks face, he thought I was badly wounded. Luckily for me, I escaped with a cut just above my right knee... and a limp.  

Writers' Block

You know, nearly everyday. I open my account; and I have to post something, but it all returns blank. Not that nothing is happening around me; in fact a lot is happening, rather too much. My thoughts keep jumping from one thing to another. I am focused, yet 'am not.

I have to post something.

I now have a job. I wake up 5am. 6am am out on my way to work. I get back 8pm. So how do I blog? And oh...how I miss blogging. All those memories racing through my mind, wanting to be penned down, wanting to be all let out.

The passion and will to continue blogging has even been made much more irresistible when I met some old high school friends on a face book group solely dedicated to the school. We share experiences, both present and past, we bring back yesterday.

Well even if I can’t blog on how I got beaten by a senior, or how I had to sleep in the Classroom over the night. I have just posted something.

Later.