It's past 9:00pm and I haven't reached half of the journey to visit my maternal home. Part of my new year resolution was to visit my maternal home and before the end of 2021, that resolution must be satisfied. So, I set out after two days of fasting and prayer for divine protection and guidance having heard a lot of disturbing tales of how witches and sorcerers can overturn one's good fortune.
This is a journey of life and death. Many Africans like me would not venture going on a mission that could boomerang, not because I have done anything wrong but because wickedness abounds in the hearts of men.
First, the vehicle going to Aniocha from the park wasn't getting filled on time. And from advice, it's preferable to board a cab from the park. So, I had to wait till it filled. Seventy percent of the passengers were old men and women, walking with the aid of a walking stick. I sat in the front seat and started praying silently.
Before this journey, I had perceived that most of the dangerous people in Aniocha are the old people who refused to die but would replace themselves by the way of evil enchantment for the lives of the young.
Since I believed in the supremacy of the blood of Jesus, I wasted no time bathing myself in faith with it.
The driver of the bus appeared from the blue with his morning chewing-stick by the corner of his right cheek and chewed away. Upon seating at the driver's space, he greeted:
Unà Wunu oooo - May you live long
Some of us responded while I shook my head in the affirmative.
He made an incantation then ignited the vehicle engine as we moved. Cutting through the hills of Modàkéké, we traveled for almost three hours at a snail crawling speed. When we reached Ifé-Tédo, the front tyre had deflated. The driver parked at a dangerous corner along the road as we alighted so the extra tyre can be used to replace the deflated one.
One other guy at back seat of the bus whom I later knew as Cyril started narrating how kidnappers have operated without interference within this axis. Then, my fear increased. A little before long, the driver completed changing the tyre.
After we have moved for about thirty minutes, the newly changed tyre busted on motion with a loud noise. I was so scared that my heart came to my mouth. Our driver held the steering as the bus swerved from one end of the road to the other.
Without anyone telling me, I knew this journey to my maternal home was a dangerous move.
Once again, we alighted and everyone came to see the degree of the damage done on the tyre, it was damaged beyond use. The only option left to the driver was to pump the other tyre.
Without destination, Cyril and I volunteered to search for road-side vulcanizers to put the tyre back in shape so we could continue the journey to Aniocha.
To my amazement, the tube in the tyre has been stitched seventeen times. How on earth does this driver want this to work? Seventeen severe patches!!! That's off the hook. It was already night and the risk of following on this journey could be detrimental. The vulcanizer charged $5 which the driver could not afford.
I beckoned on Cyril to follow me as we seek another way to get to Anoicha before it gets darker.
My stay in Aniocha was a pleasant one. My maternal home is a place I would love to visit again.
Great entry and story telling
Thank you. Its great to be in your team.
Great to have you in the team
Excellent storyline, there are a couple of scary parts in there like coming up on the night time, and Cyril, the young man at the back of the bus, telling stories of the kidnappers working the area freely didn't help your fears any lol!
Beautiful sourcing! That is perfect!
You are a wonderful storyteller @mrenglish!
This post was obtained through Dreemport .
I knew I have a trust in your eyes sir. I do appreciate your constructive critique of the post. I will make an adjustment as soon as possible.
Thank you for always coming around.
Happy New Year.
Happy New Year to you as well Mr English!!! Have a blessed year!
That was so risky.
Interesting story.
@dreemport brought me here.
Thank you so much for posting this story on @theinkwell @mrenglish, This story makes us think about things that are not easily explained.
Thanks also for the links you build with other members of the community.
Hmm, I got scared reading this but thank God it ended well. You got home safe. No matter the delay or disturbances on the road, when we have prayed and believed in God to help us, he sees us through
Thank you our chef. Though the story was fiction, it depicted the real nature of our society. Thanks for coming around.
Nigeria drivers and their level of risk management. Thank God I saw the stitches earlier, else many passages become victims of what they don't know about.