Whew! it was one hell of a weekend five weeks ago – one I pray never to have a repeat of.
The highlight being in the wee hours of Saturday when my brother had an attack, at 2am; you see my brother is asthmatic, but it’s been well over a year he last had an attack of such intensity, and scare.
The inhaler, and all other home remedies that we use whenever the crisis began, failed this time. Then, there was no car; neither was it possible to seek help in a medical facility as the government-imposed curfew compelled us to wait till about 5am before help came and we rushed him to the hospital.
Not to unnecessarily lengthen an otherwise story short, he’s well now and about🤗.
But as my brother started recuperating, I practically took over, such that I am only just getting my mojo back.
Throughout that seemingly accursed Saturday/Sunday, save for one sausage roll and several bottles of Lucozade Boost Sport, nothing entered my mouth. Me wen like food pass anything. Let’s just say I went to hell and sneaked back.
Anyways, the pictures above is what I’d really love to talk about. While in the hospital, a young boy was rushed in, apparently an accident had occurred.
The victim was a northern bike rider, who was more concerned by the fact that he was hit by a Yoruba bus driver.
It was so bad that the hospital initially rejected the boy, falling back to the old gimmick of requesting for police permit – or is it report – alongside some other things.
The boy was evidently dying, as he kept requesting for water.
After much pleading, the hospital admitted him, but about 15 minutes later, over 30 bike men had gathered around the hospital premises, with at least 15 sauntering into the ward.
These other bike men left their businesses and bikes and whatever hustles they were involved in to be with a brother.
My sympathy went out to the offending driver, who was made to cough out a deposit of N50,000. Yet, that was someone who might not have made that much the entire week.
Plus, he might not even be at fault, but because someone’s life was at stake, nobody wanted to hear that part. I mean, we all know how rough these uneducated bike riders can be.
The friends/brothers of the victim kept policing the offending driver as he was walking upandan making calls and trying to raise money.
For a second, my mind raced through the happenings of that day and came to the conclusion that amongst Nigeria’s multiple tribes, unity amongst northerners topped the charts.
Yes, I know how terrible they’ve been stereotyped and for very glaring reasons too, but, I also know that the symbolism of what the co-riders did would not be lost on the motley crowd that witnessed the entire scenario.
A bike man will be ferrying a passenger and upon coming across his kinsman having an issue/argument would stop to inquire what the problem was before continuing on his journey.
When you touch one, you have touched all.
Not many other tribes would do what these people did sha, like, abandoning your own business just to tend to someone else’s, not because you both are from the same womb o, but simply because you are from the same region.
At the time of taking these pictures, it was almost 6pm, so that meant they sacrificed an entire day.
If not for how they gathered, their brother would probably have died, or the driver would have just fled the scene without any responsibility to pay the bills.
Quite an enviable lesson in unity.