They say some events don’t just happen to you, they stay with you. I never really understood that until the morning my car was set on fire.
It started like any normal morning. I had parked just in front of my house the previous night. I was ironing my wife's outfit for the day. Nothing in me suggested that in a few minutes, my life would split into a “before” and “after.”
I was inside when I first heard people shouting and banging on our gate, it sounded distant so I didn't pay any mind to it really. But then I noticed the urgency in the voices and how the banging intensified, just out of curiosity I stepped out.
By the time I got outside, the air had already changed. There was panic everywhere. My car was the center of it all. I won’t go into the full details, but I saw enough to understand that it wasn’t an accident. Someone had deliberately set it on fire and disappeared into the chaos of the cold morning.
I stood there frozen. Not because I didn’t know what to do, but because my brain refused to accept what my eyes were seeing. You know that feeling when reality feels like a bad movie scene and you expect the director to shout “cut”? That was me.
I ran to my neighbors door shouting fire extinguisher because I didn't have one in my car, I just got the car and was planning on buying everything gradually. Well, she didn't have, we had to resort to using detergent and water.
In the rush to get water from the rest room, I slid and fell with my head hitting the ground directly. I didn't have time to think or react, I stood up and continued what I was doing. At that time the car was all that mattered.
The fire was eventually controlled, but what remained was a burnt shell and a silence that felt heavier than the noise that came before it.
At first, I thought I was fine. I was talking normally, answering calls, even joking with friends about it. But something strange started happening. Anytime I heard sudden shouting outside, my body reacted before my mind could think. My heart would race, my palms would sweat, and for a second I’d be back in that moment again.
That’s when I realized it wasn’t just anger or sadness. It was something deeper, my mind was still stuck in that morning even though life had moved on.
A friend eventually told me, “Guy, this thing no be just stress o, you fit need to talk to person.” At first, I laughed it off. For car fire? It sounded exaggerated in my head. But the reactions weren’t stopping, they were getting worse.
So, I spoke to someone (my wife). Just deep conversation. And for the first time, I said everything without trying to sound strong or “okay.” I spoke about how I really felt, how sad and how helpless I was in that moment.
Slowly, I began to understand that what I was experiencing wasn’t weakness, it was my mind trying to process trauma. Naming it made it less confusing. It didn’t erase it, but it made it something I could work with instead of something I trapped inside and hid under the guise of "I am a man, I must show no sign of weakness".
Slowly my days were better. There were still moments of panic, still nights where I had to remind myself, “you are safe now.”
The real turning point wasn’t when everything disappeared. It was when I realized I could remember what happened without reliving it.
Now when I think about it, I don’t feel stuck in it anymore. I see it as something that happened to me, not something that owns me.
And maybe that’s the real ending not forgetting, but finally moving forward without fear driving the wheel.
