You should meet ' My God '

2:18 am Dec. 27th 2008.
At about 1.30 am yesterday, the car I was riding in with a couple of friends was doing turns in the air. Wham ! Bam! Gbish! Gba! like a really bad sex with a lot of energy. Finally my side of the car crashed into a makeshift container shop, shedding us with a mass of glass and slowing down our space odyssey till we hit the surrounding bush.

Two guys in front, a friend I had invited for the trip and my humble self. It had happened, we were stunned, probably in mild shock cos we started making jokes about the accident immediately. My side of the car (the door) took a huge beating and would have to be replaced; my neck, head and shoulder cannot be replaced but they hurt like shizzles.

I had broken glass scattered under my skin (Now they call me Mr. Glass), sitting in a fresh accident spot, surrounded by the darkness, sand, dust and the heavy bush. I ordered everyone out 'cos we had to make sure the car won't burst into flames (James Bond style). We were somewhere around Eleko Beach, coming back from a hitherto promising party (@ Hermitage Garden Resorts, Akodo). Like very good children, with our collective very good upbringing, we had limited the alcohol intake and also limited our speed to about 220 mph; then the fine tarred road ended abruptly like a bad joke gone stale and sour, and then presented us with a huge gaping hole.

The first to arrive was the scene was a group of black on black men (of the infamous NPF) and a vigilante man brandishing a huge but blunt looking machete. Depression hit us immediately; Surprisingly, the police men were sympathetic and were insisting on getting us to a hospital quickly because they saw the accident and could not believe that anyone survived. Annoyingly, the vigilante man wanted us to pay for endangering people's lives (ours, I think) and he wouldn't listen to anything till one of my friends paid him 1000 Naira.

And then more people arrived the scene, acting shifty and shady. The oldest man wanted the police to make arrests, the police told him he was crazy. After plenty prostrations and scolding, they let us go and we made our way back to civilization with an accidented car, doing 30 mph. I kept reminding my friends that my God saved them because of me, but they kept insisting that their individual God saved us. We argued about it till we got home. I couldn't call my baby...she would kill me if she knew. People I related the story to wanted to see blood as evidence and right about now, I am heading out again for some kinda thanksgiving. I've fallen in love with the night these days.

Another day, another major proof that God exists (for all you doubting Thomases).