Blogsville! What’s good? Damn, those exams were tougher than a morrafucker! Thanks for the prayers though, I really appreciate it. Although I know say some of una no pray for me. You just dey post me abi? Hmm, God forgive you o. Anyways, it’s all good. I’m in a reflective mood today, ‘cos it’s my birthday, and damn, awon boys are getting old. When you start thinking about lying about your age, trust me you’re old.
I woke up kinda early this morning, ‘cos as usual Chief Fineboy called to wish his fourth son a happy birthday. Meeeen, the guy used some brand new words today and got me all emotional but it’s all good. I’ve received quite a few calls already today, a lot of them from Nige. My oldest bro Nigerian Shakespeare was the first caller. Men, the dude is one of my favourite people but the guy dey speak oyinbo eh? Lord have mercy. Chief Fineboy jr.
I also got calls from some of my aunts as well. One of my favourite aunts, Aunty R called from Abuja, and her brother my Uncle S was there as well.
Na so she give the guy phone o. You see that uncle S guy is a bit funny. I’m not sure if the guy’s complete up there if you know what I mean, because sometimes the guy talks some funny shite men. Like this morning, he was giving me the usual prayers o. Like “God bless you, may you have many more" blah blah, and then…….."motor will not jam you.”
I come begin wonder. I had already said “amen,” before I thought about it. Abi this guy dey swear for me? Why would you think to say that to someone? Na wa o. Now I’m all paranoid, because this one that guys are always slapping around central London, anything can shele.
After I put the phone down, I just started thinking about it men. Shey the guy dey see vision ni? We’re going to the Lake District this weekend in a 15-seater, so I gots to be careful when driving o, especially ‘cos it’s at night. And trust me when you’ve been in accident before, you get maaad paranoid. I’ll never forget when one madman bashed me in Yankee. I think I’m still traumatised from the experience sef. Make I give una the gist briefly.
It was the day after Valentine’s day, and the night before I’d had a nice Italian dinner at my omoge’s crib. You know, candlelight, then bubble bath, massage oils, everything! Spent the night (wink wink), woke up feeling nice and refreshed, and took off for work. Men, na so I stop for traffic light o. Just as the light turned green, I just felt something plow into my car from behind. Omo, this one was not CRASH. It was GBAAAAAOOOOW!!! My coin compartment flew open and sprayed pennies and dimes across my car. For a second I was in shock. Like omo am I injured?
I tried to move my main parts, and I see say everything dey correct order. Thank God for seat belt. My next thought was my car. Damn. Just the sound of the metal crashing broke my heart ‘cos I knew my baby must be looking a hot mess right now. I got out.
CHINEKE! The whole rear end don scatter ni sha. The dude’s car was some minivan type car and it hadn’t even incurred any damage. I looked at the were. The guy was sitting there with one sheepish look on his face. He looked like one of those IT nerds with the big glasses and spiderman tie. I was waiting for an explanation.
“Pretty bad huh? That’s a nice car too.”
I looked at the guy and fantasised about punching that his long nose.
I was just thinking, “You’re lucky this isn’t Naija. I for don woze you slap by now.”
Na so I just remember. Men, when you get in an accident, you shouldn’t walk around like you’re fine. Omo, I just went back into my car and sat down. The twit came to my window.
“Are you okay?”
I told him I was gonna move the car off the road and park in a shopping mall parking lot across the road. I moved the car there and the dude followed me. When we got there, men I just palmed like I was hella hurt o. Because if you start walking around now, insurance fit say nothing for boys. The bobo was on his phone the whole time, so I figured he was talking to the police or insurance or what not. He came to my window.
“Err, so what do we do now?”
“You called the cops right?”
“Erm, no that was my wife.”
Fool! So the whole time this nincompoop was on the phone, na im wife e dey follow talk??? Mugu!
Meeeen, I was pissed. I called the cops and told the joker to call his insurance company sharpish. I just chilled in the car like say my back don break. Omo, I begin calculate. This one na upgrade o. Hmm, with the dough I get from the insurance company, I’m copping a 6.45 beemer. I started imagining cruising into DC in my brand new 6.45 coupe. Ha, awon boys go just bounce inside club. Throw the keys to valet. “Don’t scratch my joint, baby.” Represent….
“Sir are you okay?”
There was a policeman at my window. Me wey I don imagine go, if you saw the way I switched my voice eh.
“Are you alright? Can you step outside of your vehicle?”
“Aaaaaah, officer no. I can’t.” I winced. “Aaaagh.”
“Do you need an ambulance?”
“I think so. I don’t know…..aaaagh.”
The nerd who bashed me was looking. I gave the guy eye. If dey born you well, say I came out of the car earlier.
That’s how the cop called ambulance o. In like 15 minutes, it arrived and two paramedics jumped out and brought out a stretcher. Omo! This thing don dey serious o. Yeepa.
“Sir can you move?”
“Err….yeah.” I moved my hand.
“Okay. Do not attempt to get up.”
They opened the door and put me on the stretcher. Ha! See my life o. Which kin’ katakata I don enter? They now hurriedly thrust me into the ambulance. Yeepers. Next thing I know, the guy pulls out a white sheet and starts to cover me up.
“Nooooo!” I no be oku now.
The guy goes, “You have to have it over you sir.”
I felt like telling him, “In my country na dead man dem dey cover with white sheet o, bros.”
“You will have to have it on sir. Or we won’t be transporting you to the hospital.”
Chei. “Alright then.” I go manage am. No be money?
When they covered me ehn, I felt sick. Sirens blaring and everything, white sheet over me like a corpse. Because of small change. See my life.
Long story short, the doctor referred me to a chiropractor who found out I had “subluxations” in my spine blah blah blah. Meanwhile that back don dey pain me since o. I injured it playing basketball, but had thought it was just a muscle that I had pulled or something. I remember when I went to Naija one December and went to the doctor’s about it.
The y sent me to the x-ray guy, one old paps with huge glasses.
“Off your clothes.”
“Off your trozziz.”
Na wa o. A whole x-ray technician. I looked at the baba. He passed me one hospital gown. It was rather awkward but I took my clothes off and lay on the table thingy, flat on my stomach. I couldn’t help feeling vulnerable because this old paps had a clear view of my butt. Is all this one necessary? He put the x-ray machine over me and adjusted me like a million times, each time saying,
“This is serious.”
“Mm mm mm.”
Then making that clicking noise with his tongue.
“This is terrible o.”
I finally asked him, “What’s the problem?”
“You’re asking me. Your back is in a shambles!”
This baba sef.
“This is a slipped disc now. Are you a labourer?”
I wanted to laugh. Did I look like a bricklayer to this man?
“Your back is finished. Your spinal system has scattered. Just go and see the doctor.”
Na your back go run down, you this wicked old man.
He gave me the film and I took it to the doctor, who said it was nothing, just muscle tension. Anyhow he gave me some painkillers and “robb.”
When the chiropractor in America fixed my back months later I couldn’t help but think “We can be so backwards in that country.”
Needless to say, I made mad money from that accident but I won’t bore you with the details. Awon boys did some crazy shopping, copped a brand new ride and ‘all at. So if somebody bashes you, remember to do what I did. But if na okada for Naija, shine your eye o. If you talk about insurance, dem go brush you! I love y’all men, I’ll be blogging properly this weekend.
Blogsville, your boy is back.