Sophocles Writes

According to the dictionary, accident is anything that happens suddenly or by chance without an apparent cause. Or an unfortunate mishap; especially one causing damage or injury. Accidents just happen. You don’t plan it or prepare for it. Spontaneous. Unexpected. Sudden.
I have been involved in road accidents just twice in my life. Both had been with motorcycles, both happened when I was still in secondary school and both happened between Ladigbolu and Eleekara. The story I want to tell now is about the more serious one. The one that left a long lasting effect on my head both literally and figuratively. The one where I hit my head on the ground.

For people who are familiar with Oyo town, Isokun (where the prestigious EACOED Model High School is situated) is far from Jobele (the part of Oyo that I stayed at). I can’t recall the exact day or date but I remembered leaving the school with some of my friends. We branched the usual joints (areas around the school: Beta Taste, the friend fish vendor along Saka Abdullah’s house, Ogundele Stanley’s house). The easiest way to get to my house from school was to ride motorcycles (bikes). I called the next available bike and negotiated a decent fare. We reached an agreement after a couple of minutes of haggling. I climbed behind the bike man and we sped off.

I was thrilled at the speed and recklessness at which he overtook other vehicles (not my fault: youthful exuberance!). “I called the right bike man” I thought. We passed through Winners and Shepherdsfield and took the route leading to the expressway: Fola Tyre, Sawmill, Ilora and Ìdí Ìgbà. The bike was going as fast as his bike could go. Then suddenly he changed lanes and we were facing oncoming traffic but then I didn’t say anything because I believed the man was smart and skillful enough to pull the stunt.

Then it happened faster than I can describe, faster than I can possibly explain. Even after all these years, I do not know entirely what happened. All I knew was a man suddenly crossed the road, the bike hit the man. The momentum lifted me in the air, and I soared, I remembered flying. Like a rag doll tossed from top of a building. I landed on head. I hit my head on the tarred road. My head reached the ground first, closely followed by my elbows and knees. I blacked out but not for long, because when I opened my eyes again, people were running towards us. Some were stopping the oncoming traffic, while some were pushing us off the road to the sidewalk. I got up, dusted my uniform (white on blue) and I paid the bike man in full. The bike man and the man we hit were badly injured with blood coloring the ground. I didn’t feel any pain at that moment. I could not feel the blood rushing from my elbows and knees. But when I touched my forehead I was shocked. My skull had caved in. Like hitting a watermelon with an hammer, the kind of hole you’d get was on my forehead.

I managed to get home from Eleekara without feeling any pain. I took a taxi from Eleekara to Jobele. The moment I got home and calmed down a bit, the pain hit me. Like getting hit in the head my a Soccer ball made entirely of steel. It was like some invisible carpenter were hammering my forehead continuously. The pain became unbearable. I cried. I cried again then stopped. When my mum felt the hole in my forehead, she cried. And I cried again.

I was taken to a clinic where my injuries were bandaged and I was given something for the pain. Then the nurse and my mum tried remodeling my head back to shape. The injuries healed after a while, and the head was remolded back to shape, almost! But the headache and joint pain never left. Whenever the headache returns, it feels like the carpenters hammering my skill came back. The pain is always unbelievable and unbearable. And just as it has come, it goes. The events of the accident is almost forgotten but the effects will stay with me for the rest of my life. The only fear I can never overcome is the fear of motorcycles.

Comments and criticisms are welcome. Please do like and share. Thanks