At this age, it’s expected that David Ozouwa, the great big giant should at least have learned to commandeer a vehicle like his mates are doing now. I actually did go to a driving school. That is, my parents gụpụtara N9,000, si m jee muo motor, with the hope that at the end of two months (or was it three months), David ga na anya James Bond. But at the end of the day, David still uses uber.
This is a story that gives me great discomfort telling.
So, It was 2017 & that was around the period I was almost rounding up with driving school. I was feeling so fly. Soon, David would be a certified driver, or so I thought. I had visions, great visions. Visions, where I’d drive my family to social functions like my older friends; visions where I’d see my friends on the road and wave at them with satisfaction and smile; visions where I’d cruise around Enugu and beyond in my mum’s car and a whole lot more. Those visions were my driving force, my motivation, my engine. I was a vision-driven young lad.
So that fateful Monday morning, the sun was warm and blissful, and I smiled at it. All was well with the world. After the morning devotion, I was to wash my dad’s car. It was as if the Holy Spirit had told my mum what I had in mind because before I had headed out the door, she warned me sternly not to drive the car. Little did she know that nothing on earth, come rain or sunshine, can stop a vision-driven lad who was too big for his age from achieving what he thought was his destiny.
Quickly, I headed downstairs, fetched water from the well, and like Barry Allen, I was done washing the car in a flash. The time had come. It was as though everything that had ever happened in my life led to that exact moment. It was time to show the world the student had become a master; what vision can do. I literally bowed like a monk before entering the car. Did I tell you the car was already packed outside from the previous day by my father?.
So in the driver’s seat, I was, hands on the wheel, feet appropriately placed on the pedals, and then, I started the ignition. Oh, it felt like heaven, the glory, the ecstasy, I was a vision-driven man. Off I moved. Slow and steady, they say, wins the race; so that’s how it all started. In a matter of seconds, vision told me “Think big, start big”, which I interpreted as “itinye the motor oku”. I added more weight to the accelerator.
Then came the defining moment, the bend. Now remember when I said it was a Monday morning, now imagine how busy the road I was bending to was as it was a small but busy road. Those who know Enugu well should know how Timber, Maryland can be on a Monday morning. I missed my cue to turn but I turned anyway and came to an abrupt halt on getting so close to a truck parked to load cement. This truck was big that the height of its tires was almost the height of my dad’s Audi in general. At that point, I began to question what really was driving me; vision or vision’s evil twin. I wasn’t thinking, I know I touched the gear with the intention of putting it on the reverse but trust manual cars na, you have to be very sure. So when I looked back to reverse, you could imagine my surprise when instead of moving back, I was moving front. And that was how I drove my dad’s car under the truck thereby smashing my old man’s windscreen. All eyes on the road were now truly on me. I came out of the car and I muttered a prayer to God “Father, if it be your will, let this cup pass over me”.
Anyways, long story short, after talks by amebos who had found gist for the day, someone helped me drive the car back home and told me not to worry, that it happens. My parents of course scolded me, but trust me, that was the least on my mind. The incident made me question Comrade Vision.
That was how my fear of driving started, but you’d think David learned his lesson. Next time I will tell you how my mom’s Highlander also fell victim in my hands.